So last quarter was pretty hellish and I blamed it on the fact that the classes I were taking were too rigorous and I just didn't have time. But I could always make time? But they were really difficult and too much to handle all in one quarter. But was it because I just couldn't handle it? That I wasn't good enough?
These were questions that I constantly battled. My dad's always instilled this mentality in me that if I wanted it badly enough, I could do it. "When there's a will, there's a way." Basically all these really positive mottos and slogans. He was my mental cheerleader. And that mentality was a great thing to have... when I was on top.
But when you fall, you begin to wonder how it happened. One thought leads to the next and inevitably, you begin to question yourself. You're the number one suspect. You let it happen. You have failed yourself and others around you. You are guilty.
These thoughts were vultures, circling me throughout my college years, waiting to swoop in and pick off my carcass when I was most vulnerable.
And I endured the pain.
(I actually diagnosed myself with depression for a moment there, but that's another story.)
I told myself that it could only get better from here and I continued on, with that same mentality--that I was a superhero and as long as I tried hard enough, things will be better.
But I was wrong. Things got worse. I'm not a superhero. I failed--and not in the melodramatic way either, but I actually, really failed a class. It gets worse: I actually thought I would have gone out with an A in that class. Hilarious, no?
After some crying, lots of thinking, and a "mourning" period, I picked myself up. I was going to redeem myself and retake the class. I was going to take on 20 units and do other stuff and be proud and happy about it. I was going to organize my time so wisely, I would be jealous of myself.
Then this morning, I found out that I didn't need to take the class. That starting from now on, that class was no longer required for my major. The class that I had failed last quarter. The class whose grade would permanently ruin my permanent record didn't matter anymore. Oh, did I mention today is also the last day to drop any classes? (Shoutout to the advising committee.)
So, I have two choices: to drop that dreaded class and move on with my life and make the most of everything OR to stay in the class and try to redeem myself and replace my fail grade with a less fail grade. And there are so many factors that I have to consider with each option--so many variables that come into play in this unfortunate equation.
And I still don't know what my answer is.
I'm wandering and I feel like I'm just getting more and more lost.
Life's just kinda been throwing me around--it gives me hope and strings me along for the ride and then just completely crushes me--repeating this cycle over and over and for what? To test my strength? It's really hard to keep your eyes on the prize when you don't even know what's at the end of the tunnel.
I just really wanted it to work out. For something academic-related to work out for once in my life. But all attempts have been futile... and I'm still lost.
Actually, I'm on the bed, singing TSwizzle songs. Because, y'know... TSwift solves everything.
