"Are you sure you want to do this?"
"I don't think you can graduate early, let alone graduate at all."
"Your health is in jeopardy already, stop what you're doing now before it gets worse."
"You're incompetent."
"You're not ready."
"You can't do this."
I can't do this.
Can't.
The same disheartening refrains echoing endlessly in my mind,
Day after day,
Like a broken record,
For over a year.
Ever since I was diagnosed with a chronic illness halfway as a sophomore.
The fatigue was relentless, draining my energy until focusing on schoolwork became an immense struggle. Memory lapses made me second guess simple assignments. Class after class missed, falling further and further behind as I shuttled between doctors' appointments searching for answers.
I'll show them.
I have to.
I have to prove myself worthy.
I have to prove them all wrong.
No — I’m going to.
(The bedroom felt constraining around me as I gripped my pen, staring down at the open journal. This was my makeshift command center, where I mapped out my counterattack.)
More college courses crammed in online when my health allowed, doing whatever it took to stay on track.
More academic opportunities to challenge myself, to push through the mental fog of medications.
More applications — to colleges, to scholarships, to any program that could open new doors.
Opportunities to show I wasn't just surviving, but thriving.
More negativity surrounding me, well meaning comments discouraging my ambition. But I'd ignore them, focusing intensely.
More meditation, giving my mind a peaceful escape.
More exercise whenever I could to rebuild my strength.
More laughter and cherished moments with loved ones to keep my spirits up.
The obstacles remained — setbacks with flare ups leaving me bedridden, energy reserves racing towards empty with each burst of effort, textbooks and notes blurring as medication side effects took hold.
But I refused to give up, to surrender my goals and dreams to this illness.
Slow progress is still progress.
I can do this.
I will cling to this fierce determination as I leave for college soon.
I won't let anyone's doubts dissuade me from achieving each milestone I set, even if the journey there changes me into someone that I may not like at first.
Because in many ways, hadn't this challenge opened my eyes and built perseverance I may never have developed otherwise?
Overcoming it gave me hard-earned wisdom, self awareness, and that unshakeable belief that I can overcome any obstacle in my path.
With every step forward, I showed that dedication can transcend doubt.
This was just the start — bring on the next test. I'm ready. I can do this.
"I don't think you can graduate early, let alone graduate at all."
"Your health is in jeopardy already, stop what you're doing now before it gets worse."
"You're incompetent."
"You're not ready."
"You can't do this."
I can't do this.
Can't.
The same disheartening refrains echoing endlessly in my mind,
Day after day,
Like a broken record,
For over a year.
Ever since I was diagnosed with a chronic illness halfway as a sophomore.
The fatigue was relentless, draining my energy until focusing on schoolwork became an immense struggle. Memory lapses made me second guess simple assignments. Class after class missed, falling further and further behind as I shuttled between doctors' appointments searching for answers.
I'll show them.
I have to.
I have to prove myself worthy.
I have to prove them all wrong.
No — I’m going to.
(The bedroom felt constraining around me as I gripped my pen, staring down at the open journal. This was my makeshift command center, where I mapped out my counterattack.)
More college courses crammed in online when my health allowed, doing whatever it took to stay on track.
More academic opportunities to challenge myself, to push through the mental fog of medications.
More applications — to colleges, to scholarships, to any program that could open new doors.
Opportunities to show I wasn't just surviving, but thriving.
More negativity surrounding me, well meaning comments discouraging my ambition. But I'd ignore them, focusing intensely.
More meditation, giving my mind a peaceful escape.
More exercise whenever I could to rebuild my strength.
More laughter and cherished moments with loved ones to keep my spirits up.
The obstacles remained — setbacks with flare ups leaving me bedridden, energy reserves racing towards empty with each burst of effort, textbooks and notes blurring as medication side effects took hold.
But I refused to give up, to surrender my goals and dreams to this illness.
Slow progress is still progress.
I can do this.
I will cling to this fierce determination as I leave for college soon.
I won't let anyone's doubts dissuade me from achieving each milestone I set, even if the journey there changes me into someone that I may not like at first.
Because in many ways, hadn't this challenge opened my eyes and built perseverance I may never have developed otherwise?
Overcoming it gave me hard-earned wisdom, self awareness, and that unshakeable belief that I can overcome any obstacle in my path.
With every step forward, I showed that dedication can transcend doubt.
This was just the start — bring on the next test. I'm ready. I can do this.