Last week, I was working on a short paper for my comparative literature class. It was a straightforward assignment: Write one paragraph analyzing a passage from Octavia Butler’s Kindred. On the surface, this was an easy task — quick, even. But after writing my first draft, I determined it wasn’t good enough. I interpreted it as below average and decided that I needed to write it again.
After writing and rewriting several drafts, I ended up submitting the assignment seven different times. Each time I submitted, I noticed something wrong, or I decided to scrap the paper altogether. Looking back, my behavior was far too dramatic. But in the moment, I was incapacitated by an all too familiar illness: imposter syndrome.
The term imposter syndrome refers to a psychological pattern in which a person doubts their skills or accomplishments. For many college students, this manifests as the recurring thought I shouldn’t go here — the feeling that their admission was a mistake. The pathology of imposter syndrome is far from unknown at UC Berkeley. After all, it’s hard not to feel out of place when you’re attending the world’s top public university. But while the disease is common, the symptoms have become even more fatal for first-semester students attending classes online.
In Zoom classes, the abstract names on the participants list do not exist as peers or comrades. In my head, they are all-knowing computers, succeeding in all the things I am not. Especially in classes graded on a curve, I feel as though I’m competing against robots — and failing. Deprived of contact with other students, my feeling of inferiority becomes magnified.
It doesn’t help that, when I explore the campus, I feel as though I’m a stranger. As I walk around, I have no association with any landmarks — no fond memories with friends, no knowledge of the best study spots, no reminders of embarrassing encounters with people I’d rather forget. My inner monologue switches from I shouldn’t go here to I don’t go here. I become overwhelmed with the feeling that I don’t belong.
I didn’t view my case of imposter syndrome as concerning at first. After all, I was able to identify it as a symptom of my anxiety coupled with pandemic conditions. But that didn’t stop it from taking over my life. There would be days where I wouldn’t leave the house — If the robotic students in my mind never stopped working, neither should I. If I tried to watch Netflix on my laptop, I would feel tempted to open Google Drive and read over my essay one last time. I was a victim of the desire to be productive, and it only made me feel worse at the end of the day.
While the comparative literature assignment was a wake-up call, I am still struggling to work with my imposter syndrome. I think the worst part about living with this anxiety-induced self-doubt is knowing that it only exists in my head — and still not being able to do anything about it. However, I have found a few things that help, such as doing yoga, reading a book, and taking CBD. These remedies aren’t perfect, and they definitely aren’t one-size-fits-all, but they help me unwind when my mind convinces me I’m not good enough.
For those of you struggling with imposter syndrome: You are not alone. I think there’s comfort in the thought that you are not the only one feeling pressured, overworked, held to standards that are far too high. And while this may not be a foolproof cure, it is a start to recognizing that you are capable, and you belong here.