Second Year: Lesson Learned (So Far)

Let’s be real: I did not have the greatest time last quarter, and neither did most people I know.
 
Between the ecstasy of finally seeing my best friends and the thrill of starting a new year, I hadn’t given much thought as to how different my life would be as a sophomore. At the time, I saw myself clocking in the same nine hours of dance rehearsal a week while writing for two publications and editing one, all of which would be done in between raising my GPA and spending every weekend with my friends. By my logic, so long as I managed my time wisely and avoided any urge to procrastinate, I could carry on my same commitments from first year no matter my workload.
 
In retrospect, I felt the onset of stress right after completing my first day of classes when I went back to Max. I returned from an economics class that day, drained from the amount of material already presented to me while also thinking about all the reading I had to do. My suitemate sensed that something was off, but I explained to her that I was just tired and needed the day to recover. What I didn’t mention to her was that a nagging anxiety had already settled in. I figured it would go away once I adjusted to the new year.
 
The feeling never did go away. It was only a matter of time before I realized what I had signed myself up for.
 
The amount of work and its level of difficulty had gone up, which I had expected. What I didn’t account for was that both would spike exponentially, and the change left me scrambling to keep my life in order. By third week I had fallen behind in my classes and only scrapped by in terms of my extracurricular commitments. To make matters worse, the more I thought about catching up the more anxious I became until I felt helpless.
 
I believe my friends felt the same because soon we began to see less and less of each other. The hours we used to spend with each other every day soon dwindled down to half an hour windows, and we frequently struggled to get together on weekends. Soon, I began to feel lonely and illogically concluded, as many of us do when stress sets in, that my friendship didn’t matter as much anymore. I can’t count how many times I walked into my suitemate’s room and commented on how isolated I felt, completely disregarding that someone who cared was sitting right in front of me every single time.
 
But the biggest blow came when I realized that I just couldn’t do Econ. Logistically, I could complete a double major in Political Science and Economics, scheduling wasn’t a problem. What hurt was that I was just not wired to do Econ. For the first time, I was the worst student in a class where no matter how many times I did the readings and paid attention in lecture, I still couldn’t understand the material.
 
This was when I started doubting my capabilities and talents, which scared me. After three months of struggling with my grades, coping with some sort of perceived distance from my friends, and coming to terms with the fact that I had limitations, I returned to Vancouver in a daze and with a multitude of unanswered questions. Could I continue studying what I loved? Could I balance the writing I needed for internships with my schoolwork? Could I ever become that close with my friends again?
 
But most of all, would I always feel this pathetic?
 
I’m pretty sure the moment I asked that last question was when I clued in to how lame I was being and had, sadly, been the entire quarter. Epiphanies like that force you to start asking questions, so from then on a good part of my winter break was spent figuring everything out.
 
By the end of break, I came to the following realizations:
 
1)    I wasn’t actually alone, and my friends had never abandoned me in any way
2)    I didn’t like Econ enough to continue it anyway
3)    Most of this was in my head
 
I actually felt really bad for myself once I finally came to terms with what was really going on, since it was all very obvious in retrospect. Therefore, before the quarter started I reminded myself that there are people who will always be there for you even if they aren’t physically in your presence as often as you would like them to be. This was followed by me dropping Econ as a double major and, instead, replacing it with French since that’s what I always secretly wanted to do.
 
Most of all, I had to learn to just not think so much. This, unfortunately, is still very much of a challenge since it’s a serious habit of mine, but one I should probably get over at some point if I want to truly be happy. I used to justify it to myself as me internalizing my own anxiety and insecurities, but realistically there is a distinct difference between internalizing your feelings and letting your own mind spiral out of control.
 
Knowing how to distinguish the two has led to a much, much better quarter for me in terms of balancing all my commitments and, and it’s one I strongly suggest every student learns how to do. While it is UChicago tradition to drone on and on about how much work you have or how miserable you are when winter comes around, at this point in our lives most of us on this campus don’t experience problems that require that much cynicism.
 
And that is a fact.
 
As terrible as you figure winter quarter is going to be for you, I suggest you take a step back and examine your situation for what it really is. While I don’t deny that you, as an UChicago student, have a lot on your plate, your anxiety is probably 60 to 70 percent you. Don’t be your biggest problem, because nothing is sadder than being your own biggest obstacle to your own happiness.
 
So in the end, keep calm and carry on.