I would never ever have fathomed that i would be standing here today with a past like mine. These 8 months were never supposed to happen. They were not in my plans. They were not supposed to intrude into my life the way it did, and they were never supposed to interrupt my life the way it did.
Why are my peers able to go through the final 18 weeks without much of a hitch? Does it mean that they are not trying hard enough? Does it mean that they aren’t good? No. Then why is is that i am nowhere near graduation? What makes me any less than my peers, even if i have been largely a good student through my years in nursing school?
It is precisely because i have been trying too hard- trying too hard to be ok, trying too hard to put up a facade, and trying too hard to be my best. Struggling actually, to stay afloat while being heavily weighed down by weights bound to my feet, flinging and thrashing my limbs about wildly, till i grew too tired and weary that i gave up and sank to the bottomless pit of the ocean.
Maybe they were right- i just need to get my act together and go for it, i just need to ‘psycho’ myself into thinking that everything is fine, that life still goes on, that i’m gonna be ok.
But that’s precisely what i’ve been doing for the 20 years of my life- pretending that everything is fine, that i’m gonna be ok. And that is why i am where i am now. There is only so much that a person can take, and that was as far as i could go.
It’s always easy to demean myself and say that i am weak. I am weak, but i am weak because i am only human. I am human with a whole load of emotions, heavily laden with baggage, without proper coping mechanisms to go along with it, and many traits that, when combined with all other factors, only served to stir up still air into a storm.
I’ve never stopped trying. There were times when i felt like i was giving up because things seemed hopeless, but it was effort nevertheless. It took effort to get through every single day when all i wanted to do was just to disappear from the face of the earth. It took effort to do everything that i did in a desperate bid to help myself.
But i guess it wasn’t enough. I expected too much from myself. People expected too much from me. I struggled hard to meet my own expectations. I struggled even harder to meet the expectations that people had of me- or so i thought. And it was never enough. I was never good enough at anything. There were always things that i could be better at.
So when will i ever be good enough? Never i guess. I’ll never be good enough.
I wish i could muster up all the strength that i have, to pull through the final 12 weeks. But if i’m gonna be what i’ve always been, i’ll never make it through the 12 weeks alive. Because i’ll be eating myself up alive for every single little mistake that i do. I will not take anything less than mediocre. I will not take failure as an answer. And then that would be the end of me again. Just like how i fell hard on my ass again. Things were going well many a time, but i was beating myself up for all the wrong reasons. Nobody could see why i fell, but i know very well why i fell, and why i fell hard.
‘Psycho’ myself? I’m afraid it isn’t as simple as that.
I’m just sorry that you cannot be proud of me. And i guess that i will always be a failure in your eyes, because i wasn’t able to ‘psycho’ myself.