Last year was a very bumpy time of my life. I battled some new beasts, acknowledged what I have been denying for so long, and felt that I fitted in the best community ever.
I started 2016 by receiving my very 1st F. Back then, I was in my 4th year of pharmacy, so receiving an F after such a long journey in this educational system was of course very devastating. I cried, a lot. However, my tears weren’t because ” I failed a course”, but for understanding that I will have to study again an entire course that I absolutely loathed, and take the exam that is prepared by a Dr who isn’t interested in knowing how much knowledge you gained from his course, but how much can you recall.
I had to spend my semester break studying and revising over and over for that course, and in the end, left the exam unsure if I solved enough to make me pass. After a few weeks, my grade was up on my student account; I got a D+. I was happy to finally be done with that course, but had to take the next level of that course, which is given by the same freakin’ Dr.
On the first lecture, which I had to skip to revise for my make up exam, the Dr. told the students that all of those who failed the course, flunked because they didn’t attend his lectures. I am so happy I didn’t attend that lecture, else I would have called him out on that BS!!! I attended every single lecture, took notes, studied so hard, yet still failed. If all I get is a D+ after studying the course more than 7 times, and being able to explain it to some of my fellow students( who freaking passed), then I am not the problem. The problem is HIM.
I would like to say that I passed the higher level of that course, from the first time, with a humble D.
The beast was admitting that I had depression, and coming out to my parents to ask for help. It was a very hard step for me to take, but I am glad that I finally did. I will tell you the story in another post, if you are interested.
Now, let us spread some sprinkles on this gloomy cupcake! I write for my university’s newspaper. I joined when I was in my third year of Uni, and I am still a part of it. In 2016, I got my very 1st short story published.
After an entire year of being a part of that writing community, I finally saw my own written piece being shared across the social media, and it felt freaking awesome.
I am proud that I am here now, in this brand new day; still fighting the demons, yet celebrating the bright interludes. Let us see what this new year has in store for me.