For better or for worse, a decent piece of my story is being an MIT dropout, and I’ve been itching to write about it but not quite sure how. To start, I’m getting this list out of my system. It tends towards the dark side, but the good news is that it gets better. So much better. Welcome along.
My college experience was supposed to be a dream. I was on an ROTC scholarship at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Yeah, that MIT. I could see the Fenway Citgo sign from my dorm, which looked like this. It was going to be so cool.
And then I found myself so far in over my head and spent a semester in crippling homesickness and depression. Here are ten times I felt hopeless during my first semester of college.
Crying in bed the first night at ROTC indoctrination.
That time I had to switch dorm rooms four times in the first week of school.
Every time my alarm went off at 4 AM.
Chemistry recitation.
Telling the cross country coach I quit. I wanted so badly for him to cut me from the team so I didn’t have to tell him I was quitting.
Staring at my computer screen, frozen and unable to remember how to write an essay of any kind.
During any attempt at calculus homework.
Eating by myself in the dining hall.
On the phone listening to the senior midshipman in my ROTC platoon try to convince me to stay while I was sobbing uncontrollably on mute.
Sitting down in the middle of a hallway, trying to remember how to breathe, on the walk back from the train station after Thanksgiving break.
That’s a lot. Lo: in the eight years since, I have grown immeasurably. When I think back about all these times, I feel the hopelessness, sure, but I also feel that I could handle it now. I’ve learned how to ask for help. I’ve learned a lot of things, and you know, that sounds like a great idea for another list. I’ll see you next week.
Love,
Amy