……DRAINING AND VERY DISCOURAGING! On February 21st, my dad died. February 22nd, quiz day! February 26th, speech day! Again, February 26th, exam day! February 27th, discussion due! February 28th, funeral day. All of these assignments and events were thrown at me back to back. The frustration built up. “When am I supposed to do all of this? How can I meet these deadlines? Why is there so much to do?” These questions constantly ran through my mind. As I drove 2 hours and 30 minutes every day leading up to the funeral, I could feel my body shutting down. I felt completely drained and had no motivation to keep up with school while dealing with the loss of my father. 4:30 am, my alarm goes off; time to get up. 5:30 am, my alarm goes off again; time to get on the road. When 4:00 pm hits, that means time to go back home. It was a repeating cycle. The semester turned me into a person I never knew could exist. I was at my lowest. I was living physically but dead mentally.
“WITHDRAW!”
“YOU NEED TO TAKE THE SEMESTER OFF!”
“YOU WON’T MAKE IT!”
I never thought these words would come out of the mouths of some of my professors, friends, and even family members. I thought they were being genuine and thinking about my mental health. But, my mental state fueled them with happiness and allowed them to manipulate me. They wanted me to fail! These words of discouragement would replay in my head over and over.
“I can’t do this!”
“I’m so sorry daddy. I give up.”
I started to believe I couldn’t finish the semester. But, that all changed when genuine people in my life encouraged me to keep going.
“NEVER GIVE UP, SAMYRA!”
“YOUR DAD WOULD WANT YOU TO FINISH STRONG.”
“PUSH THROUGH!”
These are the words I needed to hear. These words pushed me to go back to school. But, some of my professors were not so understanding and would not work with me at all.
FAIL. FAIL. PASS. FAIL. FAIL. PASS. FAIL.
I have never seen the letter grade of an F so much in my entire life. My semester was not going well at all. I didn't have time to properly study. But, who can study after unexpectedly losing a parent?
My room in my apartment became my new place of comfort. As I laid on my hard floor, questions would constantly run through my mind. “Why can't my professors see I’m trying, but I just need a little more time? Why are they not trying to help me? Why do they want me to fail?"
My frustration grew stronger. My eyes turned red. Then tears rapidly fell along the side of my cheeks.
As I stared at the white ceiling, I said to myself, “this semester is not working in your favor”. Part of me cared, and the other part of me was over the semester. I was officially becoming someone else. DRINK. DRINK. DRINK. That became my new lifestyle. Soon as I entered my apartment, I walked up a set of stairs that led to my room, full of excitement to crack open a bottle of liquor. Soon as I got to the bottle, I poured a shot reaching the rim of a 2-ounce red cup. As I raised the cup to my mouth slowly, I quickly tilted my head back and consumed the liquor. When the red cup was empty, I poured another cup. Then, another one and another one. Drinking turned into my escape from my current life. It was an escape from the pain and suffering I did not want to face. I would look forward to drinking and feeling the numbness of my body so I could suddenly collapse and fall into a deep sleep. That became my happy place. It allowed me to forget about the painful world I existed in. But, drinking was not the only thing that caused me to lose myself. I knew I was turning into someone else when I………TO BE CONTINUED.
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