Progress

I'm 83% complete for my AA in English, not including the chemistry that I'm currently taking. That means in a couple of semesters, I will have completed a college degree, which would be amazing. Last year, I only got one B (in Art Appreciation), the rest were A's. I have no idea why I'm doing so well in school, but I have my doctors and my professors and my friends to thank for my progress. As my dad said a while back, my attitude has changed. I was in and out of psychiatric hospitals multiple times per year, and chronically suicidal. While my mood has dipped since my coffee with the English instructor (in addition to having the insurance refuse to pay for one of my antidepressants, so I've been without for about two weeks now), I am almost completely free of the more serious symptoms like apathy, fatigue, inability to concentrate, etc. I only have auditory hallucinations infrequently, maybe one or two every few weeks. All I've ever wanted since I was eighteen was to go to grad school, and officially be a member of the intellectual elite. My goals never included a lot of money, but just the ability and freedom to explore intellectual challenges and feats. Maybe by the time I'm forty, I will be there. I wanted to bet the English instructor on who would complete his/her Ph.D. first (he is ahead of me because he has already completed a Master's, but the kids will certainly slow down his progress).

It looks like this fall, I will be applying to UC-Berkeley, UCLA, Stanford University and UC-Santa Cruz. If I don't get accepted to any of those schools, I will return to the University here locally and finish my B.A. in English. What I'm trying to decide right now is whether or not I want to pursue being pre-med (I'm currently looking at finishing my chem series), and whether or not financial aid will pay for me to go.

There was a time in my life (a long time) when I didn't believe I would ever complete my degree (I'm speaking to my Bachelor's) because of the damage that was done by the ECT, and because of my mood instability. Finishing classes and getting A's or B's seemed to be almost completely out of reach. People have told me frequently that I'm plenty smart enough to finish my undergrad (I recently re-read a nice letter that a counselor in the Disability department at the University wrote about me in efforts to get some W's). There have also been the doubters, particularly one of my past psychiatrists, and also a member of the Stanford hospital team (who has always been very kind to me, but he thought my disease had progressed too far to make college a practical option).

Of course, a lot of this progress is thanks to Engl 156, the intro class before you take freshman comp. I was scared to death that I would do poorly. Instead, I found my voice again, and was encouraged greatly by my professor. Without that support and positive experience, I might have never gone back to college. The ironic part is that the English instructor continues to be one of the most critical professors I've ever had. He demands perfection, which is unattainable, but in doing this, he is constantly saying that you can do better, you can do more, and everyone in college needs someone like that. The attention and the criticism makes you a better writer. There's no fear in messing up because you already know upon turning in the paper that he'll find something he doesn't like about it (one of my fond memories of Engl 201A is having him give me back my essay, and there was 3/4th of an entire page crossed out). But maybe when he gives compliments, they are genuine. One can only hope.