The First Day of Literally the Hardest Year of My College Career
Well today was the day: the first day of sophomore year. I know my activity on this website has been pretty low, but I honestly do believe that I should be documenting the most pinnacle moments in my life, and boy was this one of them. I woke up almost two hours before my class, wore an actual dress with heels, my eyebrows actually made an appearance, and my overall confidence was through the roof. “I’m going to make sophomore year my bitch” was a phrase that would be ingrained in my subconscious over and over and over again. So when I arrived at my first class of the day, a statistics class with a focus in human physiology (my major), my confidence was absolutely through the roof.
After that class, a pointless physics lab, and studying for almost three hours in the basement of our main building, I began to comprehend what this year actually was. This was the drop period: the moment where almost fifty percent of my major class would switch majors because the classes and work load was too much for them. And realizing that absolutely shook my confidence to the CORE! Those self-empowering thoughts I had in the morning soon turned into thoughts of despair. “I can’t do this”, “You’re not smart enough for this major”, “Just quit now while you’re ahead”, “You’re going to crash and burn”. These thoughts were louder than screams, louder than thunder and lightening, louder than explosions five feet away from you. They were so loud that it would affect me physically, sending shivers down my spine and making me almost want to faint.
All of these thoughts, and I’ve literally only had two classes today.
My goals are pretty set: I want to help people. I know I have hands that were meant to heal. But sometimes I wonder why that one simple goal felt eons and eons away. People are telling me not to worry, that these are the least of your problems, that I’m young and don’t know what it means for life to be hard for me. Sure, life will get harder for me, as it will for any human being, but I am living in the now; not the past, not the distant future, but NOW. And to be completely honest, I’m fucking terrified. I know I have people to back me up: my family who I love, my friends who I confide in, my advisor who encourages me to never give up. I have all these crutches for if I do end up falling, but that doesn’t make that terrible feeling inside you go away.
I’m honestly praying to whoever/whatever is in the sky playin games up there that I’m worrying for nothing; that everything is just a simple delusion in my way-too-psyched-out-mind.
My college years are supposed to be the best years of my life. I should be making mistakes, going to parties, hopelessly falling in love with random upper class boys only to have my heart broken a week later. Yet I’m afraid that most of it will be spent stressing out, having anxiety attacks, and wanting to give up when things get tough.
I honestly hate to say it, but only time will tell what will happen to me this school year.
A solid school year goal: too not fall apart.