Today was a pretty rough day.
Monday morning, at 3 a.m., I logged onto my school’s website to check grades. My heart stopped when I saw my professor posted the grade for our last Anatomy and Physiology exam. I walked out of that test room feeling like I completely and totally aced that test. I owned it. In fact, I texted my best friend and told her that I made that test my bitch. Except I didn’t. I made a 68.
A 68?! How did that even happen? I was so sure I did well on it. Not only that, but I have never failed a test in my life. I was baffled, and knew something went wrong. I immediately emailed my professor about looking over my test and scantron because there must have been some error.
Today was that day, and there was an error. It was me.
I have known this fact for a long time: scantrons are not my friend. For some reason, I have severe dyslexic tendencies toward them. I would have done remarkably well if it weren’t for the fact that I get my bubbles mixed up. But the reason why I failed the exam isn’t the point. The point is that I failed, and I had a major meltdown because of it.
Failure is an unnatural thing for me. I have always been remarkably hard on myself, like many other are on themselves, but to fail a test is something I cannot forgive myself for. I called my mother after leaving my professor’s office in tears and told her that I can’t do the whole college thing anymore. Right then and there, I was ready to drop my education, move home, and sit in my bed lamenting about this test for the rest of my life. Amelia does not fail.
And guess what? My response to that test is completely unacceptable. People fail at things in life, and they keep going. But I fail at something, and my whole world turns upside-down. Suddenly, I see all of my failures right in front of me, right in my face. Suddenly, I see myself failing at anything else I ever try. I immediately think to myself “I failed this A&P test. I will never pass this class, or any other speech pathology class I take. I will never be good at the speech pathology classes I take even though this is what I want to do with the rest of my life. I will never get into grad school, I will never survive grad school, and I certainly will never become a speech therapist. In fact, I will never become anything I want to be because I won’t ever be good at it.”
Obviously, that kind of self-doubt is not healthy. It is something I need to change. I have never really had experience with true failure before, and the way I was raised taught me that it is never okay to fail. Failing is not an option. I wish that I had learned to accept failure when I was little. I wish that I would realize that it is okay to fail, everyone fails, as long as you don’t make a habit of it.
But for now, I will lay here in my bed, a whole 12 hours later, still crying over the test.