first time for everything

The title’s pretty accurate, to say the least.

So last time, I was celebrating an awesome accomplishment of finishing seven years’ worth of college and earning a master’s degree, right? Life was great, I was getting shit-faced and not caring, because the only thing on my mind was FREEDOM!!!! Nothing could go wrong for me, right?

Apparently, I was wrong, because about a week and a half later, I received an email from my school, titled “Academic Performance Letter.”

Well crap.

Turns out, I failed two classes (probably three at this point, because I never did finish my lit review so my first year thesis class probably is a failure now too, ha). I was supposed to go in to see the Academic Review Board and see if I was going to be put on probation or if I was going to be kicked out of school. Because I was in good academic standing before, it was possible that I’d get put on academic probation, delay graduating, and retake the classes while paying for them out of pocket (something like $400/credit, eek).

On the other hand, the policy says that failure of two classes warranted a dismissal. This wasn’t the reason I decided to drop out. Actually, correct that: this wasn’t the reason I dropped out. Because the deed has been done.

Less than a month away and I’m giving up on the accumulation of seven years of high education, mental blood, sweat and tears? I’m so close to being done! What’s wrong with me?

I’ve more or less gotten that reaction from the people I’ve told this so far, with the exception of my supportive family. And I guess while I don’t blame the reaction, it irritates me nonetheless. You don’t know what’s going on with me, or my reasons. And now, I’m explaining it on a mass scale so I can stop getting the same repetitive “Why’re you giving up just get it over and done with don’t give up on your future.”

Yes, athletic training, hell, sports medicine… just medicine in general is something that’s always fascinated and interested me. And yes, I wanted a career where I could work in that field, no questions asked. I’d even contemplated getting an AT job through the military. But that was before the burnout started.

Senior year, undergrad, was miserable. And that was the start of it. The emotional situation with my father (I’ll talk about that another day) had taken its toll on me, and that depression, coupled with a blow out between me and the AT department over a part time job I’d picked in order to afford the rent, I left that program more resentful than relieved.

The first year of graduate school was busy, but fine. I didn’t have any lack of energy (the desert air must’ve refreshed me or something), I got my fill of soccer, classes weren’t an issue. I was tired, but it was manageable. My clinical preceptor didn’t hate me, and for the most part I did alright, aside from a rough, broke fall quarter. But by the time summer rolled around, I was feeling good.

Second year, not so much. After a major issue came up in January, it’s gotten to the point where I hated going to classes, hated going to work, everything. I was always angry or miserable or apathetic. And after spring quarter I’d had it. I’ve lost my passion for this. Which sucks because I wasn’t even out of school and I already despise my career choice. So much for doing that kind of thing during a mid-life crisis.

People outside of my family, aside from my boyfriend, have all asked why I don’t just hit the grind one more time and push through those final credits?

It’s because I can’t.

I’m so tired of it, so sick of it, it’s why I failed two-going-on-three classes in the first place. I don’t care anymore. And I’m not about to waste a few thousand dollars trying to pursue something I could give a shit less about. I can tell you I will most likely fail the retakes too.

And who knows, maybe I’ll try to finish later? Maybe I’ll have to start a degree from scratch? Maybe athletic training won’t even exist anymore. But the point is, you all may disapprove of my decision to drop out, but I’m more much happier now that I don’t have the weight of pressure on my back. And I’ll be able to take care of myself. Only a select few of you know what I’ve done to make ends meet in the past, as illegal as that sounds (but it wasn’t!). If I can do that, I can do anything. It’s my nature to survive, after all.