By Katelyn Obermiyer / The Jambar

I’ve gone through a rinse-and-repeat cycle of homework, extracurriculars and expectations for six weeks. I think my washer’s beeping — my load’s unbalanced. 

Another textbook chapter to read. Another presentation to prepare. Another story to write. Another meeting to attend for another club I’ve joined. Another thing that needs my attention.

My attention has a fill line. My washer is pinging three times. 

This is exactly what I wanted in my last year of undergrad, but why do I feel — unsatisfied? 

I know what you’re thinking — this is another woe-is-me college student whose biggest contention is the privilege they’re too involved. But stay with me for a minute, please. 

I wanted to share my experience to highlight the way I view, or viewed, overcommitment. I’ve always admired my peers who I saw juggle a full course load, extracurriculars, honors societies, internships, jobs and involvement with sororities or fraternities. 

I always felt like their accomplishments gave them so much to be proud of — so much fulfillment to be involved — that I found myself craving that too. 

But I’ve always been someone with a limit, whether from my workload, social battery or bullhoney meter, even if I don’t like to admit it. Like the character Elphaba in “Wicked,” I wanted to reach a moment where I felt unlimited by myself — a moment I could fly and take on the world. 

But now as the semester ramps up, the first major project deadlines approach and the first exams creep up, I’ve noticed my capacity dangerously near the top. I won’t be able to spin out the cycle properly if I’m overcommitted. 

Society praises overcommitment, especially in college students. Whether it’s the resume that showcases someone who will make every effort in their involvement, or like I saw it, the suspected happiness from taking on as much as one can, this praise overshadows the effects of stress on a person and can keep them going until, well, their washer breaks. 

Additionally, some college students coming into their own in society fuel the inclination to overcommitment. Maybe it’s fear of missing out or motivation for a competitive edge to

diversify oneself, according to a 2020 article of collegiate polls from Pepperdine University Graphic.

Any way you shape it, the views of overcommitment lead to a perpetual cycle that leaves some of us out to dry. 

But the hardest part is that even if I acknowledge I’ve overcommitted with a limit, I struggle to accept it. I want to keep doing more and more to chase that suspected value I can see in everything I do, even if it’s draining me. 

But I can’t pour from an empty cup, or clean clothes without water connected to my washer, if the first was too cliché. I can’t really feel all the benefits I perceive if I can’t be fully engaged to experience them. 

Whether I’m held back from lack of sleep, a slight cold or sufficing on too many snacks, I need to evaluate my base needs to make sure I can balance what I have. 

To the person reading this who might be feeling the same way, take a deep breath with me. We are going to commit just the right amount to ourselves first to keep our systems going. Let me get my tool box to look at the washer.