Tomorrow I get my results from my resit in Birmingham. And not to sound melodramatic but this is it. My future literally depends on one number which will be emailed to me at 10:30am. If I pass I proceed to third year and can get my BA. If I fail I have to leave medicine and I won’t be able to graduate from Bristol. And I’m not sure that I have the strength the deal with that.
This past year has been amazing. Beyond amazing. I’ve indulged myself in literature and art and culture and have been privileged enough to experience it all with an amazing group of girls and a tutor who has entered my Teacher’s Hall of Fame (it’s very exclusive, there’s only 4 people in it).
And I’ve come so far on a personal level too this year. I’m not cured, and I’m not the person that I was in first year. I’m someone else, and I’m liking her far more than I’ve ever liked myself before. It sounds corny but I found myself this year – I feel happy and centred, I know what I believe in and what I stand for, I have a plan and dreams and goals. I feel at ease, with myself and with the world. I saw this on Tumblr and it sums up perfectly why I don’t want this year to end:
Quote by Azar Nafisi
I thought that I would write a whole post on the wonders of Bristol, and maybe at some point I will. But it’s hard to transfer that utterly joyous feeling that this year has given me from my insides to the page. All I can say is that it’s been amazing. Beyond amazing. Wonderful. Exciting. Astonishing. Breathtakingly brilliant. Indescribable. And I don’t want it to end but part of life is change, and change is good. I think that whatever happens tomorrow I will be a better person because of this year.
But tomorrow. Oh tomorrow.
I have a plan for what happens if I pass. I don’t have one for if I fail. And you’re probably all thinking “she’ll be fine” and “stop worrying” but I’m a worrier and I actually hate the phrase “you’ll be fine” at the moment. I’ve said this before but I don’t trust myself or my abilities anymore. If I pass I give you all permission to say “I told you so” very loudly but for now please just humour me.
I’m scared. Utterly terrified. I know everything happens for a reason, and like not getting into Cambridge, failing tomorrow may be the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I want to say I’ll apply to do English but I don’t think I’ll be able to afford it. My friends and I used to joke and say that if we failed out of medicine we’d set up a hairdressers but I don’t know a thing about hair. I haven’t got the money to travel. I haven’t got money full stop.
And I’ll have failed out of university. I barely coped with failing a module.
I don’t know. Maybe it will all be fine. I...
I’m going to go watch a film. And take a sleeping pill. And just let tomorrow come.