Disappointment

As a child, I was raised to believe that I could do anything I wanted to do, as long as I put my mind to it. And I do mean anything - be it becoming a world-class surgeon, training to be an astronaut, winning the Nobel prize, or somehow ending up the next Bill Gates.

I grew up with my parents, teachers, and everyone else around me telling me that I was smart, that I was talented, that I had potential, and well - that I was special. And I believed them.

For the longest time, I just had to be the best at everything that I did, just because I could - for the sole reason that I believed that I deserved nothing but the absolute best. And the weird thing was, for a time I was at the top of my game without even trying, as if it was out of the sheer strength of my force of will.

And it was great, while it lasted - I topped the motherfucking UPCAT (which, honestly, I still have no idea how I did), got full scholarships to every university I applied to, graduated second in my batch, and got 1470 on my SATs (780 in Math and 690 in Verbal - that's Ivy League calibre). I had every reason to have just flown out then and there.

And yet, out of that stupid sense of invulnerability I had then - out of that naive notion that there was always going to be a second chance, another opportunity, I opted to stay in the country.

I blew it.

Sure, I got into a good course in a respectable local university, got reasonably good grades, and was pretty active in my home org for a while. And well, I also got the girl of my dreams after what I once considered a perfect courtship, and it was probably stupid of me to think that the relationship was worth it. But for a time, I thought that I had made the right decision, that I was still on track. I figured that I could work my ass off to get high grades, graduate with Latin honors, and take my graduate studies in an Ivy League in a few years.

But I blew it.

In a single year, I have been reduced to a ghost of the guy I once was. The guy who used to join Math competitions every year - he almost flunked his Statistics class. The guy who used to be a know-it-all can't even recite in class anymore because he's too scared of saying something stupid. The guy who was once known for his sense of humor - well, he hasn't told a single joke in months. The guy who once swore to a close friend that he'd first do drugs than as much as light up one cigarette - he's tried practically every single vice in the book. The guy who used to be so active in Church, who used to play his guitar for God - he's a bitter atheist now. And the guy who made it a point to never miss a single LSYC retreat, who used to be so passionate about helping and counselling other people - he can't even help himself.

I blew it.

All the mistakes I've made in the past have now caught up to me, and now I've lost everything I've worked my ass off for my entire life, and whatever opportunities do come my way I just seem to screw up quite masterfully.

And yes, I am aware that I'm sounding like a totally arrogant prick. Before you start judging me and begin to tell me that I'm still better off than most other people, at least acknowledge where I'm coming from. Whatever I've received, I do try to give away. I've done my best to be an overall nice guy - to not step on anyone else's feet, to mind my own business, and to just do my best. And I may be wrong at everything else, but the one thing I do know is that I do not deserve this.

So much for believing that I could do anything I put my mind to, huh? So much for being special. All I feel now is stupid, ugly, and worthless.

This whole growing up thing - it hurts.

* * *

I started the sem planning to take it easy after the living hell that was last year - you know, just take the requisite units of M.E. then bother with my other degree later on. I planned to stay an entire extra year after fourth year to then complete my second degree.

But I've seen and heard enough in just the first three days of the school year to want out of this place. I just need to get away from here, in as short a time as possible.

And so I got my grubby hands on a load revision form and signed up for five more units of classes. That's twenty-three fucking units in total. I actually have classes from three to six in the afternoon on Saturdays, for crying out loud. I know that I'm up for inhuman levels of stress for the remaining duration of my stay in college, and that this might actually turn out to be one of the stupidest things I've ever done, but what the fuck.

I just want out of this place. I want to get away from everything that reminds me of what a failure I am now and just start over.

But there's still one whole year and one more sem to endure, and I'm scared shitless.

Help.