Reflections on Spring 2013 (A year late)

Hi people!!! So I know I haven’t posted anything in a few months and this blog has been really inactive, but I’ll try to change that post things at least once a week from now on!

Today I’ll tell you about my spring semester of freshman year, undoubtedly one of the most difficult periods of my life. It’s not that easy to talk about it, but writing about it helps let out the pain, and I hope my story can inspire others who are going through rough periods of their lives. Parts of this post are going to be emotionally evocative, and it’s an extremely personal post, but I’m completely comfortable sharing it. I’m not ashamed of anything that happened: in fact, I’m proud I managed to be so resilient.

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I ended my first semester of college with a bang. I finished my first semester at Berkeley, a college that 6 prior scared the shit out of me, with a 4.0, and I was riding that high all through the break and into next semester. Because I did so well with 17 units, I decided to up it to 20 units for the spring. I was set to take Chem 3A/L, Math 16A, Anthro 1, PMB 13, Public Health 116, and a DeCal called Sather Health. Little did I know what was going to happen.

I remember early on in the semester I had applied to the Berkeley Free Clinic’s lab section; having volunteered at a free clinic in high school, I was absolutely pumped to start volunteering at BFC, but I was so dismayed when I was rejected after what I thought was a great interview. The neurotic pre-med voice inside of me started flaring up, and I felt very, very inferior to others. Was I to be one of those 4.0 robots? Only time would tell.

I also remember having my first date early that semester, during the superbowl I think. It was a nice dinner, but I remember there not being much chemistry and it not really leading to a second date, so I felt really, really bummed. I worried that there was something wrong with me, that I was an inferior human being because I was not able to “succeed” in a romantic or sexual manner. It seemed like everyone around me had their share of fun, so I felt very isolated.

With these misfortunes under my belt, I treaded through my first round of midterms and wasn’t pleased with the results: I remember getting below average on my first Math 16A midterm, which shocked me because it’s supposed to be the joke math class that’s like AP Calc AB. My GSI talked to me separately during class and asked about my math ability, and it was the weirdest experience, to having done so well in one semester to now being below average.

The Chem 3A midterm went pretty well, but the B+ I received was underwhelming in the light of my A in Chem 1A, so I was similarly displeased. It seemed like nothing in the world was working my way, and I questioned whether or not I was actually intelligent. I sought solace from this self-perceived failure in my social life, but like everything else in this story, it wasn’t very fruitful.

My floormate suggested I join Rotaract, and I always liked doing community service, so I decided to give it a try. They had their own “family system,” something I definitely felt I needed in spite of this other failure. Now I know plenty of people I met in Rotaract will be reading this, and I want to say I have nothing against them or against the organization, but I didn’t really enjoy the social aspect of Rotaract that semester; in fact, it made me feel even worse. I felt like I couldn’t connect with others in my “family,” that I was just this weird person on a completely different wavelength. I was extremely outgoing and wanted to meet everyone, but no one ever clicked with me. The only reason I stayed in Rotaract was my dedication to service, emphasized and idealized through the president at the time, who is to this today one of the most influential and inspirational people in my life. Despite my passion for service, I still felt alone. That semester I also had joined OASES, where I was able to tutor elementary school kids with other Cal students. Yet again, no matter how hard I tried, I felt unable to form strong connections with anyone, and I still felt alone. Add this to the list of failures.

One night in particular was extremely painful: I remember leaving a frat party one night. As many men do at frat parties, they ask girls to dance, but despite my effort for a few hours, not a single girl danced with me. Now most people wouldn’t think about this too much, but this not only tipped the camel’s break: it crushed every vertebrae in my spine. At 1:30 AM I went to one of those benches near Stephens Hall and started crying for an hour straight. I hated what I thought myself to be: an academic and social failure. Now this wasn’t the first time I left a party, or any engagement for that matter, depressed, but I had never sunken to this depth before. When I came home that night I wasn’t able to look my roommate straight in the eye or even talk to him: I just went to bed.

The irony among all of this was that I had joined You Mean More that semester, an organization that supported Mental Health awareness and Suicide Prevention. That semester I probably had the worst mental health I’ve ever had. My entire life I’d been, and currently am, a more-or-less a happy person, but that Spring just ruined me.

After halfway through the semester things started to get better: I got a 95 on my second Chem 3A midterm (the average was 62) and on my Anthro 1 midterm, so I felt pretty ecstatic….until I started applying for internships and other positions. I applied for HSI and FSI through Public Health 116, got interviews for both, and got into neither. I remember talking to my friend who thought she had bombed her interview: turns out she did get into HSI, and I, who felt like my interview went well, did not. But it wasn’t just that internship: I started looking for research positions and actually got an interview with Tyrone Hayes, but I didn’t get it, probably because I told him I was taking 2 classes that summer, and he probably thought I couldn’t handle it. I felt like I would be doing nothing productive that summer and that I’d rot away behind my books.

You might be wondering when things started to turn around, when my usual aura of optimism and positivity started overpowering the negativity. There wasn’t a specific event that magically turned everything around, but it was gradual process that ended around the summer. I ended that semester with a 4.0, which completely surprised me because I was expecting a B or C in Math, but because the professor was terrible and made the final obscenely difficult, my mediocre performance earned me an A+ in the class. This definitely brought my spirits up in the context of my academics, but I felt like a failure in other ways as well. My social catharsis happened at several of the club banquets, where I felt appreciated for who I was and finally felt like I was accepted into their social sphere. There were several other events that happened during the summer that really brought my spirits up, but I’ll save those for another night.

I wrote this story for two reasons: first, to release many of the emotions I have regarding this period of my life. I don’t know about ya’ll, but writing about stuff is hella therapeutic, and I feel very relieved letting a lot of this off my chest.

Second, I know that I’ve developed a reputation as an intelligent, successful Cal student who is apparently unable to struggle in classes or in anything in life. I’ve noticed whenever I try to complain about anything, my friends always bring up my past successes or my image as this really amazing beast. I’m not gonna lie: I’m awesome.But even the based god has his struggles, and this is meant to show not only that even I have gone through my fair share of shit, but also that I got through it and grew as a person.

Lots of my friends, especially the pre-meds, are worried about success and failure. They worry about doing poorly on a midterm or not getting a certain position or whatever. Regardless of what happens, you need to remain optimistic. There will be a brighter tomorrow, but only if you work for it. There comes a point in life when it takes back its silver platter; that time varies from person to person, but you should be prepared for your descent from whatever privilege once encapsulated you.

I’m not gonna lie: this current semester is wrecking me pretty hard academically, and I’m way more stressed out this semester than the last. But this is a 100x better than last spring, because I have confidence and the belief that I can do it: I can get good grades, I can  succeed at interviews, I can actually have friends (sometimes too many, which is probably why I get distracted from Bio 1AL reading), and I can actually enjoy all that life is giving me.

I hope that whenever you start to doubt yourself and lose faith, you remember the resilience of our species. I know you can do it.

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If you managed to read the entire post, I hoped you enjoyed it and that it will help you in your times of need.