I Will Never Write About This Again (I Hope): LU3 Year-End Reflection

LU 3 is finally over, and before the experience becomes a hazy memory, I need to write about it. Hopefully, this will help me remember the things I've learned this year. This will be quite long, I think, so I hope you stay with me until the end.

Beginning a new phase in life, we can be anxious and full of fears, or we can be excited and ready to take on anything life throws at us. Sure, I felt these, but most of all, I was full of hope. Not surprisingly, I took several risks. First, I applied for the position of head of MSC's Academics and Research Committee. Unfortunately, there were better applicants who got the job. Next,  I ran and got elected as my class's Vice-President for External Affairs. Third, I continued my participation in MedChoir. Back then, I was  just recently elevated to member status. Fourth, I accepted the job of IMDC co-head. I was so confident I'd be able to accomplish my tasks and still perform well academically.

Oh, I was so wrong. I struggled. My once goal of thriving became a daily battle for survival even if it means crawling. As the VP, I was failing miserably in achieving my goals. I couldn't get people to participate. I received a lot of complaints about how people don't like the way I run things. People talked behind my back. At some point, I stopped believing I was cut out to be a leader. As member of the choir, I felt like I was only holding everyone back. I was embarrassed by the feeling that my peers have developed their skills and have become so much better than me. I once thought that while I may not have talent, I can always develop my skills. I stopped believing that too. As an IMDC co-head, I felt useless. I couldn't provide any vision or direction for the event. Most of the time, I felt out of depth. I was only able to perform the tasks assigned to me. Although everyone considers it a successful event, I feel that it would have been much better if someone else became co-head. While these were happening, I was also having a hard time with my academics. I was barely passing my exams. I didn't know what to do. I tried different approaches and methods to studying, but nothing seemed to work. I guess after some time, I ended up thinking I just wasn't intelligent enough.

I once thought I was a strong and resilient person. I truly believed I could handle whatever comes my way. There was a time I would actively seek challenges, so I could better myself. No matter how many times I fail, I would always get back up. But you see, it's actually possible that little by little, these failures could shift one's consciousness. It happened to me. I can't tell the exact time, but one day, I realized that I believe I'm a failure. This realization changed the way I did things. For class events, I hurriedly looked for heads so that I can let go of the event as soon as possible. Why? Because I thought the class stood a better chance if I don't interfere. My motivation for going to choir changed from developing myself into avoiding being alone. For school, I learned to settle, to be content with mediocrity. I found that it was the only way to save my sanity. 

LU 3 was the most painful time of my life yet. Each day, I dreaded going back to my dorm because it meant I would be alone. When I'm alone, I start obsessing over the things I did wrong during the day (e.g. like I could smile more so people won't think I don't like them, I ran out of patience again, I wasn't nice enough). Many times, instead of studying, I find myself lying in bed, not having the willpower to do anything. I would foolishly hope that the morning would bring vitality. There were days that I would wake up with a renewed vitality, but most days, I would just feel tired. The only thing that kept me going during those days was my fear that if I don't act normal, I would be creating problems for the people I love such as my parents.

I never consulted a psychiatrist, but I think I was depressed or starting to be depressed. It started a series of reflections that ended with a resolution, a resolution to get better. I thought that things would be better from then on, but unsurprisingly (though it was actually surprising at the time), it got more difficult. I had more episodes. I got affected more easily. I would try to go to sleep, but I'd still be awake, crying from the emotional pain that's making my chest feel tight. I would ask God why I feel so much pain then ask him to take it away. I would bargain with Him. There were even times I would get my phone and contemplate on calling my parents because I desperately needed the pain to go away. I never called them because I thought it was selfish of me to trouble them at such an hour. I would keep on saying "I don't want to feel this pain anymore. I want to get better." until I fall alseep due to exhaustion. As it turned out, to get better, it would take much more than having a resolve to get better.

When did things start to turn around? It was in April. By that time, I wasn't able to keep everything to myself. I had an episode right after choir rehearsals, and my friends knew that something was off about me. Since then, I felt more support. My parents especially my mom played a very large role in my recovery. I don't know if she sensed something was wrong, but during those times, she became more vocal in saying how much she loves me. It was more frequent too. My mother would sometimes unexpectedly message me on Facebook saying she loves me. When I was in high school, I kind of ignored those messages. I would reply saying I love her too, but it was an empty reply because I was too preoccupied with whatever I was doing. But in LU3, those messages made me tear up whether I'm in the middle of a lecture or studying in the library. I appreciated the message much more. I appreciated her more.

The last piece that caused another shift in my consciousness was my birthday. I was very busy on that day because it was the day before the choir's concert. I told my parents that, but my mom insisted we celebrate my birthday. I told her I only had an hour and a half of free time that day. She said she was fine with that. I don't know why, but when I saw them that day, I was so moved. After we finished eating, they prayed for me and told me how much they love me. They also assured me that whatever I do, I'll be great. It was just the love and reassurance I needed. I thought my day couldn't get any better until my friends gave me their gifts, personalized coupons for the goods or services they can give me and a folder containing messages from different people. I really hope that people meant what they wrote because for the first time in a long time I believed. I believed in myself, and I had hope.

Have I completely recovered? Maybe not, but I'm sure I'm on the right path. By being able to believe in myself again, I can take risks again. I ran and got elected as PAGSAMA's Social Consciousness Force Head for the next school year. I'm joining MedChoir on a competition abroad this break, and I'm fully committed to the task. My problems with academics may not be over, but my mindset has changed. I think I've become more persevering. I'm not settling, but at the same time, getting a low grade (such as my compre score) doesn't make me depressed. Of course, I'd be lying if I said I don't feel sad. I do, but it no longer cripples me. I'm happy right now. I wouldn't say I've completely moved on because when I recall those hopeless moments, I still feel a bit of the pain, but I am full of hope that in the future, I never have to write something like this.