55%

I got a 55% on my Bio midterm.

Wait, what?


That doesn't make any sense.  It's my lowest score at Stanford, yet it was the test I walked in feeling most prepared for.  I didn't study as hard as I have for previous chemistry tests, but my performance on practice exams proved above 80%, at least.  I never felt at a complete loss to approach a problem for bio as I've felt for chem.  To say that I've misunderstood half of the materials of the first three weeks is......confounding.  What?  I got nearly perfect on all the homework and in-class packets.  As always, I attended every lecture and understood what was said - if I didn't, I went home and read until I did.  I remember walking into the test room very early, reviewing the materials one last time and agreeing to the facts, and feeling that everything in my life has lead up to that moment of me taking that test, that nothing that happened before, or will happen after, matters.  Only that moment, and I was entirely in my game, focused on the test.  I finished with about 15 minutes to spare and triple checked my answers.  There were at most three small questions I couldn't answer, but I didn't think they'd cost me many points.  I must have been completely wrong on some concepts, but....which one?!

And here I've been fearing that I had failed my stats quiz, when I had actually gotten 93%.  My highest test score at Stanford.

I'm not really sure what to say, or what to do, at this moment.  I can't not study for the rest of the day and sit around agonizing, and in fact, I can't even agonize because the only emotion running through me right now is confusion.  What did I miss?

More than anything, I wish right now was Monday after bio lecture, when we get our tests back and when the answer key comes online.  What did I do wrong, when I felt I've done everything right?  And why is my dining hall still not serving soup!?!? -sniffles-

Oh wow, I can feel the self-hating and insecurity rising again, and it's a familiar start of a familiar slippery slope.  Self-bashing may come tomorrow, because I can't figure out how to respond to such a crisis.  There must be a response.  I can't take it out on others, so I take it out on myself.   There's a sense of helplessness

You've seen me at my best and worst.  You've seen me cry, you've seen me hurt.  You've seen me broken to pieces and seen my friends and family put me back together.  You've taken away hours of sleep and handfuls of hair.  You've seen me at the brink of depression and suicide, pushed me so far down where I needed to show you my world and created a safe space for me to recover.  You've placed a worm inside me that made me grind my teeth in my sleep and make me tense throughout the day.  You've made me fall to the ground to curl in hopelessness and despair, and while I've given you everything I can part with you refuse to give me what I want.  So everyday I'm searching inside for more parts of me to give you, clinging to some vain hope through the insecurities, late nights and frustration, tears and exhaustion, just for your approval, by which I judge myself.  My friends might think me callous, distant and heartless, bent on some inhuman need for your approval when their's is so earnestly given.   But I will never let you win.  I will lock away all that is precious within me and fight you until there's nothing left to take.





I will win this, and in the end, I will find myself again because that part of me is locked safe away where you cannot reach.