Journal Three by Jacob Kelley

Holding On is interesting in that it offers incredibly brief glimpses into incredible people. I've enjoyed it so far. Because they are so brief, they are easy to read, reread, and work with. I think by offering such short glimpses it allows the reader to see so many different people. By offering so many subjects, I feel like I'm getting more comprehensive understanding of various topics. Unfortunately, I believe that some of the pieces are so short that I don't get a full understanding of what's going on within the pieces themselves. They seem to often capture one emotion or point. The good side of this is that in making me want more I feel compelled to look things up. The piece that best represents this for me was the one on Miles Mahan. The way it was written in interview form seemed to best show the way Miles Mahan's mind worked and what it must feel like to talk to him, but I had a hard time picturing or understanding what was going on with his museum until I looked it up online. Because it was so short and the way in which it was written, it took a little more effort to understand it, but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't change it. I've found that if I underline things and write my immediate reactions to them I can return to them quickly before class and engage with the text more actively.

When I think of fear, I think of the first time I can remember feeling it. I am not talking about the fear you get when you cut yourself or the fear you get when you are on a roller coaster, I am talking about the fear you feel as you leave uncertainty and engage with responsibility. It was not until December, 2008. Maybe a better to start is why did the chicken cross the road?

The first time I dropped out of college was because I could not open a web page. Despite my all of my attempts to open it my computers out dated browser a day later than I should of, it could not open the program necessary for me to schedule classes. I looked up the IT number and I could not call it. I could not contact my advisor. I could not tell my parents. I could not say or do anything to anyone. Looking back on it, I cannot describe my thought process but can describe what my first panic attack felt like. It felt like I had to go to the bathroom. It felt like a cramp welling up inside my lower intestine that would not go away.

When I interrogate myself as to why I could not do it which trust me I have done a thousand and one times, I come up with only one answer, protection. If I did not approach the problem, then there was no answer I did not want to hear from the problem, so uncertainty acted like a blanket of protection from responsibility, a brief reprieve from consequence and somehow made that feeling in the pit of bowels go away. It felt like a small stay of execution.  The protection of uncertainty acted as a trap.

I can feel sympathetic for Robert Shields from Holding On. His protection, his obsessive chronicling of what is going on in his life so he didn't have to face the uncertainty that no one would remember him is similar to what I felt except I craved uncertainty. Compulsive behavior like this is hard to understand unless you've been there. Fortunately, my story has a happier ending.

All of the sudden, one silly moment in my life due to technical error spilled into an entire series of moments, of questions, and of fear. Why don’t you talk about your classes? What classes are you taking next semester? With every question that feeling gained a new hold, a new edge inside me. I had no answers and skirted the questions until the day after school was supposed to start. When after hours of sitting and hiding in a park, I called to confess to my parents. Then that moment tumbled into a series of other moments. My parents understood. I got help. I would go on to do an internship in Washington D.C. That feeling stays away longer now. It does not come back when small things go awry most of the time. The certainty I was concerned about turned out to be better than I could have ever hoped, and now here I am three years later that feeling is not gone but I am back in school.

So why did this chicken cross the road? Maybe it was to get a college degree and maybe a job. Maybe it was because people are sometimes willing to give you more than a second chance. But more importantly to me so I can know whether that feeling I am feeling is nerves or a I have to go to the bathroom.