It became clearer and clearer to me that I had no more options. As I sat in the basement of the South Campus main residence hall at three in the morning on a weekend, I stared at the blinking line on my terminal. No matter what I did, I could not seem to figure out how to implement the function that created a POSIX thread. Each compilation of code brought new errors.
I survived project 1, but project 2 was a whole new level of programming. I sat there, learning new concepts, and attempting to implement them, only to find out there were other new and confusing concepts I should have known about. What was I doing in this course? Was I going to have to drop Operating Systems?
No matter how many hours I spent thinking about the problem, no matter how many hours I spent on theory, it was no use: I simply did not have a strong enough background in the C language to properly implement this function library.
It was an error on my part to enroll in such a high level course while knowing I do not have the skillset yet.
Why didn’t I catch my lack of proficiency in C? I noticed I struggled with programming when I took Applied Algorithms; I got the theory, but I could rarely implement it in C. My professor noted that I would need to practice C more to catch up as proficiency in programming is important for computer engineers.
It was an error on my part to not have spent personal time improving my skills in programming with C.
I sat there and the reality that I might have to drop this course began to sink in. The cut-off date for a safe drop without any permanent transcript repercussions was quickly approaching. The cut-off date to apply for other courses was long gone. Dropping this course so late will result in me having to take only twelve credits this semester, and being four credits behind on my degree program. I might have to overload next semester, or take summer classes, or break my general education electives into smaller courses. No matter what I do, this will have a negative effect on my future coursework.
It was an error on my part to be a few days past the last day to add classes when I came to the realization that I needed to drop this course.
It was an error on my part to not hear the words from the professor the first couple of days of class, “This is a C-extensive course, if you do not feel you are comfortable with programming in C, this course might not be for you.”
It was an error. I made mistakes. These were my errors. As the project 2 deadline continued to approach, I began to shift my efforts onto my other assignments and studies. The thought of a successful project 2 became less and less real. As I returned to my room from the lab and prepared for bed, my head was racing.
‘Was this because I went on that retreat and missed office hours? Why didn’t I see this coming? Should I have not have focused on studying for those midterms? Should I have not done homework before this project? Why did I have to get sick this weekend? What am I going to do about my degree? Am I even going to make it anymore? Is this it? Have I hit my limit? Am I cut out for this?’
I could not sleep. The clock on my phone read past 5am. I tossed and turned.
Can I fit my coursework in if I were to drop this course?
I opened a web browser on my phone and began planning my schedule on the student link.
I don’t think it’s possible. I can’t drop this course, but I also don’t seem to be able to successfully complete this project.
I could not stop thinking about my mistakes. I continued to blame myself and I could not stop that internal voice that began to label me as
a failure,
lazy,
immature,
irresponsible.
I could not stop thinking about how I got here, and whether or not this was going to ruin my future. What was even my future at this point? What do I even want to be? Do I even enjoy all of this? Should this be my major?
Slowly every support in the foundation of my vocational identity began to fall over. The entire structure came tumbling down.
On Monday evening, I went over Jen’s apartment after spending most of the day completing homework assignments in all of my other courses, the assignments I postponed due to allocating all of my time to my Operating Systems project.
The stress must have been painted all over my face, because she immediately asked me if I was okay. She was well aware of my struggles with this project, and she was aware I was considering dropping the course.
Throughout that evening I continued to repeat the same fears, the same concerns, the same statements where I blamed myself, where I would talk about how it was just
oh so so so so-oo stupid of me to have let this happen, to get to this point.
At some point, Jen stopped me in my spiral and began to wake some sense into me. She first asked: “Nick, are these thoughts even useful?”
I thought to myself, ‘No. These thoughts aren’t useful.’
“Is blaming yourself going to change anything? Is constantly thinking about what you could have or should have done going to change this?”
‘No. It’s not.’
And then she reminded me:
“You are at this point and constantly thinking about what you should have done or could have done isn’t going to change anything. You cannot go and change the past. You are here. You can only move forward.”
‘I can only move forward.’
At some point I really needed to forgive myself and give myself a break. I have made it this far, and I did not destroy my entire existence and future with one course.
Jen reminded me that this was one course. She reminded me to put this all into perspective and that this one small failure was exactly that: one small failure in the grand scheme of things. A small failure doesn’t automatically shroud and overpower everything.
It’s not like the moment we fail, we fall, or we make mistakes we become unsalvageable. It’s not like this failure brought me to the point of no return.
As I spiraled out of control, she pulled me out of it, and helped me snap back into reality.
I dropped the course – and I am still alive. I am still a computer engineering student. My future, my coursework, my existence as a student in this wonderful university did not instantaneously vanish.
It’s going to be okay. I failed. I made mistakes. It’s okay though, I am only human.
I am only human, and although I have failed, I can still keep going and keep working.
I can still keep going.
I can still accept myself, even though I am very much well aware of my flaws.
I can still accept myself.