#eng102 saga
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I finally read the instructor's feedback on my midterm essay and she said it was better than some published essays of the same type that she'd read, and it gave her a better appreciation of the source material—a poem she'd read many times, written by someone she personally knows! I'm happy stimming in a Starbucks right now
Y'all, I slapped together that essay over a couple days and submitted it late because I was working on it right up to the deadline. I thought it was going to get a "B" at best! Nope... 100%. Fuck!
I'm not trying to go on here and be braggy I'm just. Kind of in shock. Shit. Imposter Syndrome Real. Oh my god. Why am I serially failing English classes instead of pursuing writing as a career? What am I doing with my life??
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pictured: three out of four of last night's last-minute readings. not pictured: the writing assignment i failed to get done because i started too late and was preoccupied with microwaving marshmallow peeps.
#maybe my professor will let me make up the assignment?#i will talk to her about it#i will not mention the peeps#eng102 saga#adhd studyblr#undescribed image#food mention
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*doing readings at 4am voice*
i am englishing the fuck out of this class
#eng102 saga#working on better habits just#i was busy#it was really cold#my car is at the car doctor i couldn't go to the cafe#seriously considered walking there in the snow though#forgot to consider ''house has no central heating'' on barriers to academic success#anyway#sleep time#breadtab life#sleep deprived#academia my beloathed
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something i've forgotten about trying to do school is that i legitimately can't think past a certain level when i'm exhausted. and i'm exhausted so often. (adhd. depression. chronic fatigue. fog, fog, fog)
but in real life in other parts of life i can just. go to work and go through the motions. or call in sick at least. i go months without working on my own writing projects because of this
and this has gotta be why i keep failing this damned english class. because it demands daily reading and writing and thinking
i am worried for my plans of brain-based work in the future. can i really write for a living, or do programming, or anything else beyond customer service?
anyway. i am about to write and turn in the shittiest paper
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midterm paper due tonight. been trying to write it all week and of course floundering because i'm sick and can't bring myself to focus. now with less than eight hours left before the deadline i'm hoping that the magical last-minute adrenaline will show up while i still have time to actually write the requisite 4-6 double-spaced pages with in-text citations. i don't want to do a literally last minute submission again, either, so i need to write like the wind
on the bright side the "contagious infection" symptoms have stopped (i'm mostly just left with the post-illness ortho hypo fatigue piledriver) so i have allowed myself to leave the house and purchase a donut (i was actually at the store primarily for vitamin D supplements but i forgot those so the donut will have to do) so by the power of SNACKYTREAT i will prevail!!!!!
#adhd studyblr#eng102 saga#i am putting on my tunes and getting this done#yes that's the empty vitamin D bottle i didn't even put it there on purpose#this is authentic unstaged chaos#all i did was take the donut out of the bag#studyblr#aesthetic#hahahahahaha#i feel very silly thinking about going to the store because i was like yes get that vitamin but then i got there#and my whole internal monologue was 'look for bread tabs in the bread aisle!' and 'donut square donut donut square like minecraft'#sigh#food cw#medication cw
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essay written. absolutely awful, no sources, had to stop writing just when it was getting good because i had a minute left to submit it. got it in with 15 seconds to spare. brain cells evaporated
i legitimately may come back and finish this goddamn essay over the summer as i have time to actually research. given my track record i have no idea if i can or will follow through on that. but in this moment my god it's UNFINISHed and i'm kind of distraught. but mostly jsut. aaaaaah brain gone.
and that's it. semester's over. class is over. i'm NOT asking for an extension i refues. it's OVER! i'm done! if i had any juice left me i would cry
i did it i survived and
i did not stop trying until the very end. i did do. i did my very best. better than i ever did before. despite being a struggling unmedicated disaster all semester. read all the readings. at least attempted half the writings or more. aced the quizzes. if i look at the class as a whole, i'm honestly chuffed to bits
i STILL don't know if i've passed the class and ended the English 102 Saga once and for all. but. either way. proud of myself. broke through some barriers. in short, in my eyes,
WIN. 🏆
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i'm at the stage of the semester where i can only do so much to affect my final grade, to catch up, etc, and i find myself in an unprecedented state of serene reflection
i have learned so much from this class about what it means to go back to school as an adult.
which is weird because i went to college for 8-ish years straight as a young adult trying to get my damn associate's degree and i started to feel REALLY old by the time i hit 24 in that environment.
but as the big three-oh slowly draws nearer, and i come back to the ministrations of the education industry after a couple of very long gap years... i find myself in a different paradigm.
i've forgotten my old routine. i've gotten rusty at it. i didn't plan before the semester, or go carefully shopping for supplies; i didn't even go to the disability services office and ask for accommodations
(which in hindsight i should have, because they'd have let me use some expensive but very handy note-taking software for free and it's a little late for that now but i still need to catch up on recorded lectures)
i just. dived right in. and i handled it like a fukcing champ. i figured out new time management and mental energy budgeting strategies on the fly. i juggled making it to class around two jobs, a volunteer gig, and multiple illness flareups. i dropped the ball spectacularly. i had a couple very bad anxious breakdowns. and every time, i de-catastrophized and picked myself back up.
it's time to start work on the final essay. miracle of miracles, i got the reading done for it. now i have to do (shudder) research. my goal is to submit ONE structrually sound essay, edited, maybe even looked over by a tutor first—ONE good essay that i didn't write on the day of the deadline, goddamnit.
and even if i do, even if i get 100% on the final, i don't know whether i will pass the class. but i will continue giving it the good ol' college try right up to the last day.
(and unlike last time i did this—last time i decided i'm going to squeeze every drop of insight and integrity out of my stupid hard-earned F—this time i'm not stressing about it. i mean, i feel the stress, sure. but it's an order of magnitude less serious.)
this has been a learning experience. i don't know what the hell i was thinking signing up for the class i've historically done the worst at this semester, when i was out of practice with the entire concept of going to school, stressed, unmedicated, broke and stretched thin on time management already. what the fuck, January!Jack?
but somehow i've done the best i ever have in this class. i've done all the readings. i've read some damn decent literature these last couple of months. i actually participated in discussions without pulling anything out of my ass from a hasty skim-reading. inability to complete writing assignments in a timely manner aside... i at least started most of them. i cannot stress enough that i did all the readings, *unmedicated.* (coffee helps but is not an effective substitute.) i have no idea where this newfound ability to focus has come from... well, wait, i do.
i figured out how to make myself *want* to do all the readings.
all of them.
if nothing else, that's worth the $400 i dropped on this class even if i fail. i figured out how to fucking read again.
in short:
W
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i didn't the paper. too much anxiety too much hurting
we're speedrunning to the "fail the class and/or ask for help" point of the semester boyos
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the struggle of English Class continues. i really don't know whether i'm going to pass this class. i keep trying. i feel like i'm building up some resilience in that process. i'm also developing more and more compassion for my pre-pandemic (and pre-therapy, and pre-diagnosis...) academic struggles.
(it is easier now, somehow, despite the incessant unmedicated adhd/chronic fatigue brain fog. yay crystallized intelligence??)
and for the first time in my freaking life i am Doing the Goddamn Readings. all of them. i am doing them on the day that i have to take quizzes on them and also probably missing important writing assignments still but... even if i fail the class, at this point, i have a renewed confidence (and reduced cognitive friction) in my ability to Read Stuff. that's life progress
(apparently the key is printing it out/buying the book and underlining salient words and phrases with colorful gel pens. also deadlines. also not being out of my mind with stress about school and constantly dissociating. but i'm not kidding about the pens)
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SUBMITTING PAPERS ONE MINUTE BEFORE THE DEADLINE WOOOOOO! YEAH! ALRIGHT! *collapses into a shriveled, trembling husk*
#i gotta stop doing this to myself#eng102 saga#adhd studyblr#i do mean it though this is not good for me and i'm going to rebuild my freaking work ethic from scratch#i am not doing this for the final paper#and if i can help it i'm not doing it for the final draft of this paper either!#i got it done though#one step at a time
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After missing two classes I made it back today. I need to talk to the professor about my attendance in some form (idk what if anything either of us can do about it, it's college policy that you can only have so many absences) but I made it to class and I feel better mentally.
I had slipped into an old pattern. After a couple weeks I started getting behind. That didn't have to be a big problem. And it was to be expected, if only I could have remembered; I'm living in untreated physicalmental illness limbo and it's hard to keep up with things. But it got to me, emotionally.
I flashed back to an amalgamation of all the struggles, failures, and invalidations I've gone through at school and at work for half my life.
That hit hard.
I wasn't prepared. It's been a couple years and I've avoided confronting this particular issue. I was just going with the flow until these feelings bowled me over like a tidal wave.
I thought the distance would protect me, that enough time had passed that all the trauma and anxiety could have magically healed. I was wrong, but on the other hand, that distance did give me perspective.
I picked myself back up.
During that process, I asked myself, "what if I fail?" —I sat with the possibility. Up until this point I'd worked so hard to avoid the thought, and now I let myself acknowledge it.
What if I fail again? For the fifth time, or however many times I've tried to take this class now.
Well, I'd feel bad. I'd have wasted $400 and tanked my GPA even further. That would suck.
I'd still have learned something. I always do. I learn about myself through the struggle, I learn about English and literature, I learn why it's important to others and what it means to me. I figure out piece by piece why this of all things is my shatterpoint.
(I find that even as I shatter, as I remain delicate, everything else gets easier with age.)
I would know that I'd tried. Before signing up for this class I thought it was worth trying again, at this imperfect moment, even with the risk of failure. I still think it's worth it.
You pick your battles, and sometimes you lose. You live to fight another day.
I haven't lost this one yet. I haven't given up, either. So it's just... Get back up. Keep going. One foot in front of the other.
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most of my writing in the past three-ish years has been either rough drafts of fiction, my own journals, tumblr posts, or bits of other social media (eg organizational discord messages) and i've just had a very rude awakening that uhhhhhhh. formal academic writing brain gets rusty. i have forgotten whether it's gucci to use hypothetical "you"
#also completely forgotten how to MLA cite anything#again#have to relearn that shit twice a year#eng102 saga#adhd studyblr#breadtab writes#''colloquial writing not allowed'' i am slain#i live and breathe colloquialisms#it's not like i don't know five nice hoity toity synonyms for everything it's just#sometimes it lacks that#shit#i have to google the spelling#the fucking je ne sais quoi#you know???#sometimes i just want to say something snappy without having to uncontract the contractions and disambiguate and turn every thought into a#whole paragraph#not that i don't do that anyway but now i have to include quotes from the text#and work in the citations#it's good for me but i'm remembering why i hate *doing* academics
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fuck, i am way too directly effected & tired tonight to be writing a paper about ANY kind of intergenerational, transgenerational or collective trauma. paper due in hour and a half, trying to do BARE MINIMUM RESEARCh from WIKIPEDIA artifles and getting insights to take to my next therapy appointmnet. (oh hey did i mention i got a new therapist? yeehaw) i do not need to learn about *MY* epigenetics rgiht now
....can i ask for an extension based on this??? belsse?? ples. fuckj
#eng102 saga#*chanting*#the paper will suck but it needs to exist#the paper will suck but it needs to exiiiist#*screams*#swearing cw#kjaghg;sda
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i'm still in the weeds so i don't have time to reflect on this yet but.
time management fail
i'm doing exactly what i didn't want to do to myself and ending the semester by writing a slapdash paper at the last minute. i screwed this up badly enough that i can't use my college's library to get proper sources because my account isn't working and they're closed today!
i've speedrun the depression-to-acceptance "stages of grief" on this by consoling myself that i did great on the midterm; i just have to write this one. I just have to do enough to pass this class. hell, i can rewrite the essay properly this summer if i want. whatever it takes to get me to accept reality tonight and not cry until after the essay is submitted ;'P
what did i do wrong here?
i made a negative goal without coming up with a realistic alternative. ie: I decided "i won't do this again" about the last minute essay, and didn't address the factors that caused this to happen in the first place. and like, realistically, maybe i just couldn't have got there this semester.
i had some wins in other areas. taking what i can get on this one. which includes learning somethign about how to not make another study disaster
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