Last Semester

In which I lose my words and reflect

When I got out of the car to move in for the first semester of my sophomore year of college, a lot of things were different than that same time the year before. I was going into my sophomore year, and was no longer the little freshmen that knew next to no-one, and couldn't find her way to campus from her dorm if she had to. I had moved out of the dorms and was now living in my sorority house, smack dab in the middle of fraternity row. I was rooming with two of my closest friends in the sorority, as opposed to a complete stranger. However while much had changed, so much had stayed the same. I was still in First Year Engineering, without a major, preparing for the fight of my life to get out of the rut I had been stuck in since last semester. As my parents hugged me goodbye I was filled with high hopes for the coming semester, but the events that occurred over the next 17 weeks beat me black and blue, and forced me to grow into someone entirely new, but the biggest change was that it stole my words.

For as long as I can remember, I have been writing. Thousands of stories have bounced around in my head and lulled me into my dreams at night. In class I would scribble stories in the margins of my notebooks. Wherever I went, words followed me. I would look out at the world and thousands of words would echo back. I'd pass strangers and their stories ( or at least the ones that I had made up for them) would rise to greet me. The wind whispered old stories and those still waiting to be told in my ears. The sun light didn't just shine on me, it cascaded down in all its summery glory and warmed me to my heart. Words sprouted up and blossomed around me as if life was an unending Spring. But this semester, something changed. What once had been a roaring, un-tamable waterfall of words, slowly dried up into a small trickle, until one day there were no words left, and winter blew in with a cold that I had never known.

In my desperation to reach the one thing that I had decided would mean success, I lost a part of myself. For an entire semester there was radio silence. The only words I wrote down on paper were notes in class and homework assignments. The only melodies that reached my ears were those written by others. The same colorful scenery that had once inspired phrases and poems and epics had turned blank and white seemingly overnight. The only stories that filled my ears were those that my friends told between classes. When I lay in bed at night before I finally drifted off to sleep the bedtime stories that I had told myself for 19 years were replaced with the inky black void of the back of my eyelids. I didn't notice the silence until it was too late. I told myself that if I could just reach my goal it would all be worth it. Everything would fix itself. The words would come back in an abundance like I had never known. And then I lost my voice.

I had lost my metaphorical voice only a few days into this semester, but I lost my actual voice around Thanksgiving break. It was fitting because it was right around the second round of midterms, an absolute nightmare of tests that despite weeks of studying late into the night flew in from so far left field that they left professors congratulating us over class averages that fell no higher that 65%. I lost my voice, and it didn't really matter because I no longer had the words that I needed to say. I didn't have the words to describe the seed of doubted that had planted itself in me and taken hold, and sprouted and grown so large that it was all I knew. The seed of doubt of having your eyes so set on a distant goal for so long that you don't even paused to glance at what other options are out there, only to find that your goal is just a few inches from your grasp, but now you're not sure if it's what you want.

When I got in the car to go home from the first semester of my sophomore year of college, a lot of things were different than 17 weeks prior, and I finally got to rest. I had given it my best and now the decision was out of my hands. My best friend told me that when her grandma came to pick her up for break she just sat in the car and cried for an hour out of relief of being done with all the stress. I managed to hold myself together a little longer, and only cried a week and a half later when I got the email that I had been anxiously awaiting and dreading all semester. A huge weight lifted itself, and in its place the words flowed back in. The first ones back, "It's all going to be okay". Followed shortly by "You did it".

This semester my shortcomings and failures cut deep. I was constantly reminded of them whenever I had to admit to others that I was still in first year engineering and retaking calc 3. The news that I might be ineligible to receive a little this semester left me with the knowledge that one bad thing can have far reaching repercussions, a point driven home by rejection letters from companies. My inability to stand up against a new level of bad roommate left me feeling vulnerable. Living on the other side of campus from my friends left me feeling isolated and unappreciated. Low exam grades left me feeling stupid and hopeless. Luckily, this semester brought a bounty of incredible successes that far outnumbered the negative. I managed to get above average grades on all of my final exams. Living in the sorority house allowed me to grow closer to and form friendships with so many amazing people. I was blessed with the perfect little. I was elected to the executive board for my sorority and will be serving as VP of Finance for the next year. I passed calc 3 with a B. Most importantly, I finished the semester with a better idea of what I want to do once I graduate, and was finally accepted into my major. It's a different path from the one I had in mind when I started college, but it's one that I am excited to travel along and see where it takes me.

I have my words back. I'm not going to promise anything crazy like weekly updates, but I can promise that changes are coming to this blog, and I can't wait to show them to you and catch you up on everything that's happened this past semester.