Over the past six semesters, I’ve proven to myself that I’m not only capable at passing college classes, I enjoy the challenge of learning shitloads of new information every day and applying it in my own work.
Also, I’ll forever be the professor’s pet without even trying, and I’m just gonna have to accept that.
No longer am I really worried about college like I was when I first started in the fall of 2021. Ok, I’m still nervous and feel completely lost and out-of-place as a college student. But, my anxiety surrounding going to college is no longer crippling.
My anxiety surrounding picking a major/career path… well… that’s a completely different story.
While I logically know that by picking a major I’m not marrying myself to it, the mere idea of picking a more specialized major aside from my current Associate of Science major feels tremendously overwhelming. There are so many career paths to choose from. So many things I could do and/or become. And I’ve yet to really come to terms with my past, even though I’ve been in therapy for nearly twenty years at this point.
Every time I arrive on campus for class, my imposter syndrome whispers in the back of my mind, “What the hell are you doing? You don’t belong here. Stupid rednecks like you don’t belong at college.” Logically, I know it isn’t true. I belong in college just as much as anyone else; I deserve to pursue an education, a solid career, a fulfilling, independent, healthy life. And, for the record, I enjoy college when I’m not thinking about whether or not I actually belong in it.
When I’m engrossed in studying the material or writing an essay, I don’t worry about my performance or whether or not I belong. Because, in those moments, when I’m happily scribbling down notes during a lecture or typing away on an essay at home, I’m not thinking about whether or not I belong in college. I’m simply absorbing the information and enjoying the ride, which in turn, leads to good grades and recognition from my professors.
But, outside of those moments (and even unconsciously during those blissful moments of studying and working), the dark feelings are still with me, weighing down on my shoulders and hissing doubts into my ears. And, I’m not sure how to shake those thoughts and feelings, especially now, as my sixth semester starts winding to a close and I still haven’t a goddamn clue what I want to do going forward.
There are many reasons why I still haven’t narrowed down my major or career choices. But, I think the biggest reason for why I’ve been so hesitant to make a choice, is because I feel like I suck at everything, I’m scared of having any sort of expectations for myself whatsoever, and I still vividly remember all of the times my K-12 teachers cruelly admonished me for not understanding something, and my peers bullied me for those same reasons. Again, while I logically know that I’m not an idiot, that I love to learn and try new things, and that college, so far, has gone way better than I could’ve ever imagined it going for me. Emotionally, a large part of me remains stuck in the past. Stuck in that fear that I’m not good enough, and will never be good enough, no matter how hard I try.
Worse, I struggle with comparing myself to everyone else around me. I know that it’s stupid to compare myself to others (especially given my unique challenges and experiences). I know that comparison is the ultimate thief of joy, and not even conjoined twins are exactly alike. Yet, every goddamn time I step out of my Xterra upon parking in one of ACC’s many campus parking lots, that little asshole I call imposter syndrome pipes up again, and suddenly I’m the dumbest, smallest, most incapable person the campus has ever witnessed.
It doesn’t matter how well I’m doing in college, or how healthy I am, or how well-liked I am. I still feel like a total outsider; a misfit, a fuckup. I don’t feel like I belong in any sort of academic environment. I still feel like I shouldn’t have graduated high school, let alone gone to college. But, here I am, holding solid A’s in all three of my classes, preparing to take on a full 12 credit hours next semester that isn’t made up of a bunch of prerequisite, beginner courses.
So, the question now becomes: why do I feel the way that I do?
My inferiority complex didn’t come from nowhere. No child just wakes up one day a self-hating adult.
Thankfully, thanks to damn near two decades of therapy, a lot of self-reflection, and shitloads of nonfiction writing, I know exactly where all of these feelings are coming from. These feelings are rooted in my past, and their tendrils continue to extend into the present, especially because I’m constantly reminded of who I am and where I came from by the pills I take daily and the household I live in.
What the hell do I mean by that?
Well… for one, I’m a product of a severely blended family. I have no full siblings; I consider Jack my full brother even though he has a different dad than me, and his dad is significantly more dysfunctional than mine (I haven’t seen Clarke since 2020 and have no idea where he is. I only know he’s alive because no news is good news).
My other half-brother (my dad’s son), however, is a complete stranger to me, as is my stepbrother. Why? Because a long time ago when I was between the ages of four and six/seven years old, my severely mentally ill stepbrother did…well… things to me that required the courts to get involved and legally bar my stepbrother from being in the same household with me.
My stepmom then blamed me (a four to six year old) for “breaking up the family”, and verbally and mentally abused me every chance she had till I was a teenager, when I stopped going to my dad’s house over the weekends. Oh, and during all of that, my dad did little (if anything) to protect me, and didn’t seem to believe that my stepmom could be so cruel behind closed doors.
Meanwhile, up until March 2020 when the covid pandemic hit, my mom was stuck in a perpetual loop of dating the most dysfunctional dudes imaginable, because she believed she could somehow fix them (her words, not mine). Through her, I got to experience what it’s like to live with alcoholics, opioid addicts, untreated mental illness, and literal psychopaths who could never take “no” for an answer and stalked us wherever we were till Mom got the cops (and security cameras) involved (I wish I was exaggerating).
So, is it any wonder why I feel so damn out-of-place and frankly ashamed of who I am, and where I come from? Why I hide from the world, struggle to make friends, and feel like I don’t belong on a college campus or deserve my A’s and B’s?
Logically, I know that I’m far from the only person with such a dysfunctional background. Logically, I know that my background does not define who I am today. Logically, I know I’m not the only person struggling with chronic health issues or severe anxiety. Logically, I know I’m not a broken idiot with a hopeless future (my future is actually quite bright, to be honest). Logically, I know I’ve been working my ass off in college (even though, compared to my whole life, these past six semesters have been the easiest, happiest years of my life, so far), and I deserve the grades I’ve been getting.
Emotionally, however… I struggle. A lot.
