Fall quarter melted into Winter, both relatively uneventful. Spring Quarter of 2016 was a biggie for me though...
Still stubbornly sticking to my Bio degree plans, despite increasing love of all the Anthropology classes, I tiptoed into Spring. This was the quarter that I discovered my Achilles Heel... Chemistry. I never took it in high school, as I was mildly terrified of it. I should have been more scared. Between taking Chem for the first time and Calculus for the first time, I pretty much had a nervous breakdown. If you ask my mom, she will probably say I DID have a nervous breakdown.
I probably could have done better in Calc if I was not also taking Chem, but I will never know for sure. All I can confirm is that the combo was deadly. The only light in my academic schedule was my Intro to Archaeology class. That class, and that professor changed my life, but more on that later... I worked my butt off in Chemistry. I did 5 hours of extra homework on top of what was assigned every week. I studied every formula, every table, every page of the text, but there was a disconnect somewhere. I could NOT make the information stick or make sense. My professor was great. She met with me before classes to go over tests and tried to figure out what the problem was. I went to the free tutoring provided by the school. I had friends that had done well in the subject coaching me along. No matter what I did, or who helped me, I spent most of my time in tears of frustration. Every insecurity I ever had about school came roaring back after the first couple of weeks. The parts of Calculus that had been making sense were suddenly trickling out of my brain as I tried to fill it with Chemistry...
I have struggled with depression and anxiety for years. At my worst, I was almost hospitalized for suicide watch, twice. With counseling and doctor monitored medication, I can usually keep it under control, feel "normal" and even happy. My pets, friends, and family provide an amazing support system. When my depression and/or anxiety rears its head, they are there. I have mentioned my dog multiple times in this blog already, but I will continue to. She calms me faster and more completely than anything else. Putting my arms around her can cause my whole state of mind to shift. I have toyed with the idea of getting her certified as therapy animal, so that she can be with me in all of the situations that cause my conditions to flare up. A while back I read an article about a program that is gaining traction in the US. It involves having dogs present in courtrooms or interview rooms, sitting with the victims of crimes, giving them love and peace as they relive their trauma or face their attacker. I totally get it. I hope it becomes the norm. In the midst of an anxiety attack, when you literally feel like you are dying (can't catch your breath, everything gets hazy and seems far away yet so close at the same moment, you lose control of your limbs), having the peaceful, non-judgmental, unconditional love of a dog beside you can bring you right back from the brink. This effect isn't exclusive to dogs however, I know people who have similar relationships with cats, rabbits, and bearded dragons.
Anyway, all of that to say that Spring 2016 was one of the top 3 worst times for my anxiety and depression. My support system and Archaeology class saved me. My mom listened to me yell and cry in frustration, and my dog put her head in my lap. My friends gave me little vacations from the drama, complete with pizza and Coke. Archaeology class gave me something at school to look forward to. Every text reading, quiz, or practical lab lifted my spirits and brought me my only school-related joy I had that quarter. I ate up every bit of that class, starved as I was for something fun that I was good at. My Archaeology professor was one of the most approachable I have ever had. She made me see that I had potential... Two thirds of the way through the quarter, after receiving a Chemistry test score, I spent some time walking around campus, on the phone with my ever-supportive mother, crying in public and not caring a bit, I made a decision. I went to my adviser's office, turned my Chem class to an audit and changed my major to Anthropology. The weight, almost physical, that I had been carrying all Spring vanished in an instant. Some asked me why, if I no longer needed the credit, and I was not getting any now anyway, I would stay in Chemistry. And I did. I finished the quarter, but took an audit so that the grade wouldn't affect my GPA. Why? Because I had put so much effort, tears, sweat, time, and work into it, I didn't want to just give up. I kept working hard, did all of the work, took the tests to see how I was going, and then walked away feeling good about trying my best, despite how disappointing that best turned out to be. Like I said, I'm stubborn.
To be continued...
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