Diary of an Unkempt Mind

It was our second test of the first semester of the medical field. I was so sure that I could pass it. I spent two days studying; three if you count the actual test day. Plus, a portion of the time, we were given the option to look up answers. Sounds like a breeze, right? Well, the good news is Everyone passed with flying colors! The bad news? That’s everyone except me. Surprisingly the only worst part I feel about failing a test is lying to my classmates about my score. Then of course next class, we have a different instructor so there’s the reopening of the wound.

I was the last one to finish. I entered the hallway to see everyone gloating with big smiles on their faces. I had barely even left the classroom when they all turned around to ask what my score was. Truthfully, I scored a 52; but to them, I scored a 70. My worst score yet. If I say, “None of your business” they will know I failed. I replied in somewhat of a quiet tone hoping the instructor wouldn’t hear me lie. I wasn’t even sure if he was behind me but paranoia told me he was. It angers me because it is none of their business. But I know had I actually scored a 70 or greater I wouldn’t mind sharing the information. At this point the voices in my head are screaming at them, telling them to shut up. I walked across their group circle and beelined for the restroom. The last stall has become my go-to. The toilet sits higher than the others making my feet dangle when I sit down. I try to gather myself as I text my husband and best friend to let them know that I have failed another test. My mindset is on shutdown and my tear ducts are on bust mode. I held them back while the one voice in my head lectured me over another failed test. The main sentence I hear is, “You’re stupid.” For a moment I tried to fight it back thinking about the Albert Einstein quote. Something about judging a fish about climbing a tree. Yet I feel that it’s no excuse considering it was a somewhat open book and everyone but me passed.

I honestly don’t want to leave the bathroom. For a moment I leaned against the stall wall just hiding and taking deep breaths. I thought about making up an excuse to go home or even just ditch the rest of the class without warning. I’m coming up with things to blame such as my boss who likes to overwork me as to why I failed. I can still hear everyone laughing and talking in the hallway. They must be waiting for me...This thought only puts more pressure on my mentality. I exited the stall and looked at myself in the mirror. On the outside, I’m looking at myself and mouthing the words I’m not stupid... On the inside, my mind is having an intervention about how horrible I did on the test. The thought of not being able to graduate with my classmates only stresses me out more.

I skipped the group conversation after leaving the bathroom and found myself back at an empty classroom. However, it didn’t take long for the rest of the class to come back together. The instructor, Mike, is talking but I am not processing anything. I’m too busy thinking about how I can get better and what I can do differently from last time. I nod my head every now and then to act like I’m paying attention but I don’t think he’s buying it. It seems as though he keeps constantly looking at me. For a brief moment, I hear him say, “in the x amount of years he has taught only one student failed the class.” X amount of years meaning he said the number but I wasn’t listening enough to catch it. I wondered if he said that to send a subliminal message to me. My classmate, Richard, made the comment, “Well nobody got anything less than a C, so that’s good!” I stopped breathing and froze like a statue. I didn’t look up from my notebook but I felt the tension in the air change. At that moment the instructor knew I had lied even if he didn’t hear me in the hallway. There was a brief pause but he replied, “Ehh yeah everyone did good.” His high-pitched voice was a dead give away in my opinion but I don’t think anyone else caught it. I still refused to look at his face but if I had to guess, his lips were pierced. He would have the look as if he knew something that everyone else didn’t know. He then carried on the rest of the new chapter and I began breathing again eventually looking up from my notebook and at his face. I still felt that his eyes were more focused on me than anyone else in the room but would occasionally look at someone else to seem less suspicious. Why was he looking at me so much? Does he know I’m disappointed in myself? Is he thinking I shouldn’t be here? The thoughts in my head had my anxiety running full force to the point I imagine him writing Stupid on my forehead for the rest of the class to see and then telling them that I had lied the whole time about my scores.

After about 45 minutes of lecture, Mike decided to call it an early night. He is good for that but to me, it’s a huge relief. I grabbed my things and left. I didn’t bother talking to anyone or sticking around. Their voices carried throughout the hallway only making me walk faster to get away from them. I hate them for understanding the material better. I hate myself for studying just to fail. I hate myself for feeling stupid...