Note: I wrote this last night, Sunday, August 17th.
Tuesday morning (August 4th), just before I left for my Biology lab, I reluctantly turned in my Biology Lab report on my research into the Metagenomics of Bacteria, believing that it was complete and utter dogshit. Indeed, I was convinced that I failed that paper before I even turned it in; therefore failing the class entirely (as I needed to pass the paper in order to pass the class).
Unfortunately, my anxiety took over after that. On the drive home from my lab later that morning, I’d somehow convinced myself that I was a terrible scientist. Never mind the fact that I’d successfully bred and sorted hundreds of genetically-modified flies in order to test their ability to recover from being frozen in a bucket of ice. Never mind the fact that my TA didn’t even have a chance to glance at my paper before I sped home from the lab. Never mind the fact that I had an A- in the class, already.
My anxiety couldn’t care less about logic. According to my anxiety, I was a bad scientist, and always would be a bad scientist, and I ought to quit right then and there instead of continuing to tackle the complicated science of Biology any further.
If that all sounds absurd, that’s because it is.
Even in the moment, while fear made its nest inside my heart, I knew that my anxiety was stupid. And yet, I still found myself spiraling for days.
Until I got my grade back.
Friday (August 8th), I quickly logged into my student account and scrolled down to the grades tab in my Biology lab course. I clicked it and immediately looked away, bracing myself for, what my anxiety deemed, the inevitable F.
When I garnered the courage to look at my screen, my mouth dropped open. I got an 83% on the paper, uncurved, and an 87% on the paper, curved. Meaning, that I got a B+ on the worst lab report on Metagenomics to ever exist, ever! Even better, I was ahead of the class curve; the average curved grade in the class was 75%.
I’d spent weeks at that point, agonizing over my paper, only to get very tough, almost discouraging feedback on it from my TA. Her feedback never had anything to say about me, per se, aside from one comment I got on my final rough draft of the paper which read, “You are conducting real, original research that will be shared with other scientists and professors all over the world. You are no longer just a student. You are a scientist. Write like it!”
In the end, I apparently did “write like a scientist” to get a B+, whatever that meant.
Sadly, I’d wasted so many hours of my semester freaking out over something that turned out to not be true. I’d successfully convinced myself that I was a terrible scientist and would fail hard at that class, because I barely understood the topic of Metagenomics, let alone my own writing on the subject. Therefore, I convinced myself that I was the dumbest student in the class, by far, and I’d never make it as a scientist in the real world.
Even now, after getting real, tangible evidence against my anxious notions, I still struggle to accept that I’m truly a scientist, conducting original scientific work in my undergraduate lab courses. I still get needlessly worried about my ability to do well in my classes when I sign up for them, no matter what they are.
Sometimes, I manage to feign confidence. But most of the time, I manage to convince myself that I’ll embarrass myself in the class and fail, long before I even sign up for it. Anxiety is a vicious bitch!
Now that I’m currently staring down the barrel of another round of classes, my anxiety’s bubbled back up to the surface. This time, I’m taking fourteen credit hours, wherein I’ll tackle everything from a more complicated version of Molecular Biology 101, to Chemistry 101 (despite never taking Chemistry before, outside of my 10th grade year where I was going to a private, Christian school that taught from a creationist chemistry textbook).
Needless to say, even though I know, logically, that I will do just fine in my classes so long as I keep myself healthy and stay on top of my schoolwork, I’m still shitting bricks as though I’ve never done this stuff before. I know, logically, that my anxiety is stupid. I know, logically, that I’m just wasting time and energy playing the “what if” game before my classes. I know, logically, that I’m more than ready to tackle my classes this semester. And yet…
I am still freaking out!
In times like these, I try my hardest to slow my thoughts down, first by asking the dangerous- but not as scary- question, “why am I the way that I am?”
Why am I so anxious over stupid shit all of the time? Why am I so easily convinced that I’m a bad student and an even worse scientist, despite having literally zero evidence for it? Why can’t I just shut my brain up and think logically 100% of the time? Why does it feel like everyone else has everything figured out, but I don’t? Why do I compare myself to other students and convince myself that I’m the dumb one in the group, even though that’s almost never the case?
Why, why, why?
Truth is, I don’t know the answers to those questions. I have my hypotheses (I’d say theories, but a scientific theory is a fact, while a hypothesis is an idea that’s yet to have much evidence for it). But, I have no answers. Frankly, it’s kind of a waste of time to try to figure that shit out at this point.
That said, what I will say is this: I’m an imperfect human being. I’m only 24 years old. I have a lot of experience with getting sick and dying. But I don’t have nearly as much experience with staying healthy and living. I also inherited a ton of anxiety from both of my parents, so naturally, I’m gonna be more anxious. The list goes on.
Long story short, I am the way that I am, because that’s just the way that I am. I’m certainly working on improving myself and doing my best every single day. But, I’ll never be perfect. I’ll never be totally anxiety-free. I’ll always have a tendency to get scared and withdraw from the world.
However, giving into my fear and withdrawing from the world is exactly what I should not do, even though I’m currently losing my mind over the prospect of going back to school tomorrow after a two-week break.
So, now the question becomes: how do I prevent my anxiety from taking over?
No matter what I do, I’m gonna have some level of anxiety tonight and throughout the next few weeks (if not more). Knowing that, the goal isn’t to get rid of the anxiety completely. The goal is to keep my anxiety from taking over me, much like it did while I waited for my final grades for the summer semester to come in.
This morning, I did a couple chores around the house, then I went on a pretty long (and wonderful) hike with Eric. After that, I hit three different grocery stores, not necessarily because I had to, but because I knew that I needed to get out of the house, and turn deal-shopping into a game. At the stores, I bought almost nothing but healthy food (the only junk food I bought was a six pack of Sprite for $3.00).
Then, I returned home and did some more chores, including tending to my garden outside and harvesting tomatoes and lettuce for my lunch tomorrow. From there, I labeled and packed up my school supplies, made sure my tuition and parking pass for the semester were paid for, and got my laundry done. After all of that, I was tired enough to take a short, afternoon nap.
When I woke up 45 minutes later, I got up and immediately started wringing my hands over stupid shit again. Not wanting to wallow in my anxiety, I found another mundane project to distract myself with, until I felt I could relax again. Once I felt like I could relax, I sat down in my gaming chair and played a couple hours of World of Warcraft, until it was time to make and eat dinner.
After a healthy dinner of grass-fed steak and salad from my garden, I began to wind down for bed. That included handwriting my immediate thoughts down in a journal that’ll never see the light of day, picking out my outfit for tomorrow, making sure my backpack was packed for classes, writing myself a flexible to-do list and schedule to follow tomorrow, and lastly- but most importantly- taking a long, hot shower and wrapping myself up in a warm, plush robe.
Now, I’m sleepy and my mind is calm. Not completely calm, but calm enough to where I think I’ll be able to fall asleep and stay asleep without trouble. Assuming I get enough sleep, tomorrow, I hope, will go smoothly.
But, there’s only one way to find out!
