By Deepak Poudel
When I hear the word ‘confess’, my mind immediately plots a scene where a man stands in court telling the truth. Often, a confession is related to admitting a fault or a mistake. But this isn’t one of those scary murder confessions. Let me assure you, I was just making it up. I just didn’t have one of those ‘wow’ kind of opening lines that intrigued a reader from the first view, yet, I’m trying to give you the best I’ve got. But since I now have your attention, let me make a confession.
I am an Engineering student- well at least I’d like to believe that I am. I have been studying Software Engineering for the past year and a half, so currently I’m on my 3rd semester. And it is hard, not just the academics, but every part of it. From dragging yourself out of bed at 6:00 am in the morning to trying to run a code without errors, it all takes a toll on the mind and health. I shouldn’t be complaining. There is a lot that has been given to me and for which I am thankful each day. I have a great family, a good lot of friends, and not the most decent surroundings-what with the infinite amount of dust that’s been flying around- but livable.
But all of us lose it all at one point, don’t we?
Now I was a pretty chill person, somebody who functioned on zero anxiety and caffeine. But this was the year that I had an epic breakdown. And I decided to write this in hopes that one day, I’d be able to look back at this and tell myself, “Wow, you were weird.”
I had been a Biology student in high school, so obviously people would raise an eyebrow once they heard that I was studying Software Engineering. “Aren’t you supposed to dissect frogs and study human hearts?” they would ask. “No, thank you. These hands are made for a keyboard,” I would say to myself- not out loud, of course. You see, I’m a very shy person- I have more conversations with myself than with others.
Anyways, socializing wasn’t that bad in college. Everybody was new and trying to make friends, settling in, and getting to know people, so it wasn’t a big deal. The worst part for me began when we gave our final board exams for the first semester and I ended up failing in about half of the papers I had given. Now I wasn’t one of those bright students who had good studying habits or understood something the second they read it. It took time for me to understand, and I had to work hard at it. So the failure significantly wrecked my self-esteem. And it struck me that it was only the end of the first semester-I had seven more to go!
I started questioning everything -what I was doing here and if I belonged within this group of people and if I making a mistake studying this subject. My friends would remind me that there were people who had failed more subjects than I had, and they were pretty chill-so why was I worried? But that didn’t help. I would think of what other things I could rather be doing, of what other opportunities I had. I dreamt of applying to foreign countries. All I wanted at that moment was to drop out of college because I was embarrassed; I felt that I wasn’t good enough and that I was weak compared to my classmates. Nothing seems all right when your self-esteem is being dragged down to the mud.
I had made up my mind though. That I would drop out of college, take the IELTS, TOFEL or any other thing that I could be doing better. It never occurred to me that I could just learn from this and work hard the next time around. My mind just focused on the idea of leaving everything and starting anew.
All of this constantly ran through my mind. My parents could sense that I was upset, that their daughter wasn’t as talkative as she used to be. They would ask me what was bothering me yet I could never tell them “Dad, Mom, I want to leave college. I can’t study this anymore.” to their faces. Obviously it would have broken them, and they would have tried to console me or talk to my teacher, but at that point, neither of those things would have worked. I was stuck in a hole that dark and deep.
I realized that every day that I didn’t tell them about my majestic plan of leaving college was a day wasted. So one night I tried to subtly talk about my issues with my dad who was sitting beside me reading something on his phone. I faked a cough and randomly asked him, “Dad…do you think I’ll be a good engineer?”
He laughed at me, which I thought was nice, because I was expecting him to say “No, do you?” And I’d reply with a ‘No’ as well and then we would have a long conversation. “Do I think?” He goes. “I don’t just think you’ll be a good engineer. I know you’ll be a great engineer. If a guy like me, who left his home at 16 with a sack full of rice and potatoes and came to Kathmandu with no knowledge- could study, graduate college, get a job, build a house, have a strong family and an amazing life, I cannot even imagine what a clever and knowledgeable person like you are capable of.”
All my destroyed self esteem was now re-built. Just because of a few words to which I would normally have rolled my eyes if it were any other situation. My perspective changed. That was when I realized how much I wanted to study this subject and how much I wanted to become an engineer. I had been ready, at that moment, to tell him that I wanted to drop out of college, that I had other ideas- but I never told him any of those things. Not to this day. That’s the thing about parents. No matter what happens in my lives, eventually they’re the ones I run into for help, the ones who can pull me out of that harmful mental abyss that I would never have chosen to leave.
I am happy now. I believe in myself, and the fact that I will be a good engineer. Not for anyone but for myself. I want to create things, to inspire people and make my dad proud of me. Life can be hard at times, there are moments when you’d just love to quit. But the key is to remind yourself that there is always a purpose hidden within the pain. All your struggles have a reward at the end of the line. And that’s what should keep you going. Be positive, believe in yourself and keep working hard.
This is my confession. I told you it wasn’t a scary murder confession, didn’t I?