Defined by Deadlines, Not by Me

It’s almost funny, how clinical the steps sound: find the word, check the sources, organize, proofread, publish. That’s how you write a dictionary definition. That’s how you make meaning out of chaos, apparently. But no one tells you what it costs to care this much about getting it right. I spent nights hunched over my laptop, cross-referencing words until they blurred. Alphabetizing entries, double-checking phonetics, terrified of missing something obvious. Every mistake felt like proof I didn’t belong here. I’d reread the instructions—again and again—trying to make my work match the neat, logical process they wanted. My brain was a list of rules, not a place for ideas. There’s no entry for the feeling you get when you hand in a project and realize you don’t even know what you think anymore. Just that you followed every step, like you were supposed to. That’s what school taught me: how to define things, but not myself. #AcademicBurnout #CollegeReality #Perfectionism #Education