Good God, I thought, taking in the scene before me. A sizeable mass was covered by the floral quilt on the bed, moving only slightly. I noted sardonically the surrounding food boxes and empty junk food wrappers; tragedy stricken though she was, her appetite didn’t seem to have gone anywhere. Amidst tissues, used and unused, lay a few textbooks. At least she hasn’t rendered herself completely useless, I was relieved to see.
The mound remained still.
“Hadia, let’s at least talk about this? ”
A muffled groan was emitted.
“You have to be sensible about this, Hadia,” I continued. “If you don’t face it with a clear mind-”
The somewhat hostile, whiney (not to mention, incomprehensible) response to my words was enough to test my patience.
“Get a GRIP, Hadia!” I yelled, exasperated. “It’s not the end of the world!”
The mass before me quivered, then trembled, before finally erupting, an avalanche of crumpled tissues tumbling down and off the bed. She emerged, the red nosed, puffy eyed wretch, in a condition which could only be called a hot mess. Her hair settled in a nest around her head, her clothes unchanged since the misfortune had happened.
“I am a FAILURE!” she thundered, enunciating each syllable clearly to get her point across.
The trumpet like noise she made while blowing her nose thankfully was loud enough to cover my stifled snort of laughter.
“Just listen to yourself,” I started again, this time more patiently, watching her ruefully crumple up and propel the used tissue onto the ground. “You sound ridiculous.”
“Is it the end of the world?”
“….no. I suppose not.”
She looked defeated. Sighing, I shook my head and then proceeded to do what had to be done. In one swift movement, I got up and pulled the quilt off the bed. Ignoring her shriek, I tossed it on the floor.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The above, my dear readers, was my internal struggle about a month ago. I didn’t clear my Second year finals and had to give a *dun Dun DUN* supplementary exam. It’s been tough, and its been tiring; a blow to the self esteem and a drainage of energy, all at once. The vast majority of those who have been through medical studies are no strangers to this phenomenon; the examination being tough and gruelling and the amount to information to process and remember, vast.
Failure, (though it is, in fact, more of a temporary setback) was hard to swallow. I spent a day moping, rather pathetically, at intervals mentally shaking myself to remember “ITSNOTTHEENDOFTHEWORLD”. The week that followed, I felt lost. Was I to continue trying to keep up with everyone? Or should I have dropped everything save the subject I was to repeat? Thankfully, I got back on track eventually. There have been bad days in the middle. Some worse than others, where I could berate myself endlessly. But, I’m managing.
I guess this was life’s way of knocking me down, and seeing if I had the strength to get back up.
“Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.”
― Winston Churchill