The Little Red Button

I’m sitting here on this aggressively bumpy bus ride on the way to the Livingston football game (perhaps one of the last games of my high school career) and I notice a little red button opposite me labeled “reset button”. Its purpose is unknown to us mere band students, but in my sentimental state I can’t help but wish that I had my own little reset button to fix everything stupid I’ve done in my life. And not even the obvious stupid stuff but all the little stuff too. I really should have been nicer to my mom this week. I really should have submitted that college app earlier. I really should have studied a little harder for that test. The list goes on and on.

Obviously, it’s not too healthy to dwell on the things I can’t change now so that leaves me wondering why the hell everything I do bothers me so much. Through introspection I’ve kind of figured that it lies in the fact that I really don’t know where I’ll be or who I’ll be next year. It’s a problem for all of us seniors: everything as we know it–this somewhat comfortable life–will be obliterated and we really don’t know whether that’ll be for the better yet. It’s scary, yes, but how does that tie into the reset button?

There’s this thought within many of our minds convincing us that maybe if we would have been a little better at school, a little kinder to everybody, a little less complacent with ourselves then we wouldn’t be in this unnerving situation, waiting for our future to aggregate instead of being confident in our ability to find success. But for most of us, we really did do the best we could, or the best we thought we could at least.

I studied those hundreds of hours; I made myself sick worrying about my perfectly fine grades; I advocated for those silenced by bullying; I kept it together in front of those miserable patients on the verge of death while doing rounds with Dr. Khan at the hospital on the weekends; I tried my best to help the lady with Alzheimer’s when she thought she killed her dead mother; I did everything I could to prove myself as a strong, determined, and independent person. It just doesn’t feel like enough when I don’t know for certain whether it really will be later on.

It seems silly, I know, but I guess that’s adolescence. Or maybe it’s just me. It’s hard to tell sometimes when everybody else looks so well put together. All I can do is keep trucking on, hoping that I won’t even want that little red reset button a little further down this convoluted road of life.

*sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes–this bus is too damn bumpy.


5 comments on “The Little Red Button

  1. There are so paths to success. You will find one of them- maybe not the shortest one. I love you and you make me proud!


  2. Hey Christi!!! So I come to your blog pretty often, mostly because I think you have one of the most honest and approachable voices as a writer—it’s awesome. But also because your posts don’t feel like homework when I read them. This post hit me with especial potency because it really reflects how I felt this year. I, along with many friends, was probably the most insecure about myself these past months than I have felt in several years. College apps really give us the sense that we are insufficient, and I think the internet is definitely a contributing factor. I don’t know about you, but I found myself reading blogs about people who got into the schools I was applying to and comparing myself to them to the point of self-destruction. Like you said, I wanted that red button to start my high school career over, so I could work harder and strive towards the ambitions that I now have. Some part of me feels as though I have wasted so much time, and I’m late to the game. Like I shouldn’t get in these schools because it wasn’t my goal from the beginning. But I guess the most chronic factor that is contributing to this growing sense of worthlessness is just my tendency to compare myself to people–even my friends. I can’t help but feel as though every little thing they have beat me in, scores, etc. is going to be THE FACTOR that gets them into college and leaves me out.

    So now that I have sufficiently vented, I guess that the solution for both of us is to live in the moment. (I know that’s lame). But really. The more time we spend wasting thoughts on what we could’ve done, the less time we have to do things we can do—hang with friends, play music, etc. The truth is, colleges are only as significant as they make themselves out to be. Call me an optimist, but I truly believe that you can be a “big fish” wherever you go as long as you work hard. One final note: you’re amazing, Christi, and any college that doesn’t see that isn’t a college worth their salt.


  3. This post put into words pretty much all of my feelings I’m dealing with right now. As much as this year has really sucked school-work wise, we all have our little routines that we’re mostly comfortable with. I think it’s extremely unnerving that we have such a finite amount of time left here; we only have a couple more months to smile at teachers in the hall or form relationships here. That being said, I think we’ve all worked hard enough (especially you) to get to where we need to be and while the thought of a reset button sounds pretty tempting, we should be proud of how much we’ve accomplished these few years. ❤


  4. […] Christi‘s take on the end of a long chapter in our […]


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