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torturedtraveler · 2 days

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dear xx univeristy application office,

Listen, I know I've been rejected and this personal statement is not going to mean anything. But I feel like writing it, as a reflection of the past few months.

With what happened in middle school, I got diagnosed with depression and anxiety and transferred schools. I started dating a friend but broke up shortly after. One day he jumped from our school building and passed away (he had bipolar), it felt like a slap across my face and from then on, I gave up on myself.

I stopped showing up to class consistently and socializing. Until one day in Form 6, I realized, I didn't understand any of the things my teachers were saying in class and I would have my IB exams in less than a year. I couldn't catch up, I couldn't do it. Again, I was impulsive and have always been so I decided to just quit IB and start A-Levels. Fast forward a few months, I found out that I still couldn't do it, because of my mental health, I couldn't pull through, and in the midst of it, my grandpa passed away. These all piled up on me again and I had to quit, again. I took one A-Level and IELTS and decided to apply for associate degree programs. I chose translation originally because I am fluent in both English and Chinese and I have always wanted to do something related to languages. However, something shifted in me one day, I applied to the same colleges but instead, in Psychology.

I went through what I would call "hell" in those 5-6 years in secondary, I struggled every day with mental health, with depression, with anxiety, and I wanted to do something in the future that could help kids like me. In fact, XX College gave me a conditional offer but unfortunately, my academic qualifications did not meet their requirements (probably because I didn't graduate from a secondary school) just like how I didn't meet your requirements and am not what you wanted. Fortunately, my current College accepted me for my qualifications and there I started my tertiary education.

The school year started off great and strong. I was attending classes every day, socializing with my classmates, handing in assignments, all these things I NEVER managed to do consistently in high school.

My family and friends were shocked about the transformation. I was actually working hard in school.

Hey, I know a 3.26 GPA might have not been the best and you were probably expecting something higher, but that wasn't what mattered, what mattered was, I changed. I started taking my academics seriously, even through hard days, when I felt tired and depressed (occasionally), I showed up to class and did my work, and I made friends, which again, was shocking considering I developed social anxiety after I was bullied in high school for my ex-boyfriends' suicide.

However, my anxiety got worse near the end of the first semester and I had to postpone my final requirements, nonetheless, I finished them at the start of semester B.

I don't know what went wrong from there, but it was obvious that my mental health was getting bad again because I wasn't showing up to class and I wasn't paying attention in class. Though I was still handing in assignments and working hard on them, I wasn't showing up to class consistently. I only acknowledged the decline of my mental health at the start of March, when I started isolating myself again and stopped talking to my mom, who has always been my best friend. Fast forward to my second mid-term test, I thought I would feel less pressured after finishing it, but nope, it only went downhill from there. I didn't show up to class for 2 consecutive weeks. My mom was asking me if I was okay, and my friends were asking me why I wasn't showing up to class. I repeatedly reassured them I was fine, I just needed some time off for myself, but in reality, I was only trying to reassure myself that I was fine because I refused to admit that I was having a relapse. I didn't want to accept it, I was doing so fine for so long, I was getting so much better, and everyone was praising me for it, what could go wrong? Well, reality sucks, and sometimes, depression creeps its way back into your life with no apparent reason.

April was when things got really bad, depression was presenting itself in physical ways. I caught a cold, and it got better after 3 days, but then I had abdominal pain, which escalated to stomachache. It was one of the worst physical pain I have ever felt in my life, I had a low fever and I could not stand up, my mom wanted to call the ambulance and get me to the hospital but I refused because I knew I had to wait to see the doctor and my pain would just worsen. I saw a doctor the next day and he informed me that it was gastroenteritis. I had to stay home for a few days because I was still in some level of pain. I was forced to put down my academics for a while. Aphthous ulcer found its way to my mouth later (and I actually still do have it at the current moment), and now I can't even have a proper meal without being in pain.

The physical symptoms weren't the worst part. Do you know that feeling of working on an assignment one day in an empty room in the school library on a Saturday afternoon, listening to jazz and making good progress, and all of a sudden you stared at a blank wall and started bawling your eyes out? That's what happened to me. I experienced that consecutively for a week. Just completely random moments in life, you were feeling fine the last second, and the next, you were crying for your dear life.

I was in the shower once and suicidal thoughts consumed my mind, I was bombarded with all the ways I could end my life, jumping off a building, hanging myself, cutting myself, etc. I felt despairful, worthless, exhausted, all the worst emotions you could possibly think of, and was just ready. Ready for me to leave because I had no worth, I wasn't showing up to class and it was reflected in my grades. I mustered up the strength to call in my mom because for a split second there I still wanted to hold on, I didn't want to give up just quite yet.

All these were happening, because I had so much pressure on my shoulders, that I imposed on myself, to get a high GPA, to get into a prestigious university in my city, to get into XX Univeristy. I didn't want to spend 2 years in community college and wanted to ascend to university as fast as I could.

I received your university's rejection yesterday, and let me tell you, yesterday was an awful day. To start with, rains flooded the streets near my school campus, even under an umbrella I was drenched, from head to bottom. I arrived on campus completely soaked, with water in my shoes. At that point, I was already depressed (bad weather could seriously affect your mood), nonetheless, I told myself "It was a bad experience, but that will not dictate your day, you still have a full day ahead of you", so I mustered a smile on my face and went straight to class. I was chatting with friends as it was the last class and we were all just doing revisions. I went to the library shortly after.

I wasn't as productive as I wanted to be because 1) I wasn't motivated and 2) Depression can really interfere with your daily life functioning, for example, doing work. I didn't get as much done as I wanted to so I decided, maybe it was time to go home.

I took the train, I bought myself dinner, I grabbed the mail, I went home. I sat down, with my dinner in front of me, and opened up the application portal on my laptop.

The word "unsuccessful" was under my application status and into my eyes.

I kid you not, I felt like my life had ended right there. Everything that I had worked so hard for, all the pressure I had imposed on myself to get a high GPA, to get into a prestigious university, and the high hopes that I had, all faded in one single moment.

I called my mom screaming and crying, shouting into the phone about how miserable I was, I was in so much pain. I couldn't think straight and my mom reassured me that she was on her way home. She arrived, grabbed a chair, and sat next to me.

Essentially our conversation went on for about 45 minutes, and I remember distinctly, one of the things she said was, "So? That's it?". It was a wake-up call for me.

All this time, the amount of pressure I've put on myself, the sleepless nights I've had to experience, the physical symptoms, the mental symptoms, etc. All because of one number that I ignorantly thought would dictate my future. I lost sight of what I originally did this for. In working towards getting into university to get a degree where I could help people, I ironically forgot to help myself. I lost sight of what was important in the current moment, my priority is not yet to help others struggling with mental health, it's me, I'm struggling with my mental health, I am my priority. I neglected my mental health and what I truly needed, it wasn't grades, it was self-love. Caring for myself, listening to my needs, attending to myself, and acknowledging that I was struggling.

It's okay to relapse. It's okay to know that you need help. It's okay that you're depressed again even if you thought you didn't have depression anymore. It's okay that it's near finals season but you're mentally struggling, maybe you need to postpone again, and that's okay. Do you know why? Because we're humans, and it's okay to not be okay.

All these years of struggling, I haven't done much with my life and I desperately wanted to prove to myself and everyone else, that for once, I could do something, I am capable of something. I wanted to get into a university, a prestigious one, the top in my city, to redeem myself. Because my sister got into a good university, and my friends from high school got into good universities. I NEED to prove to people that I am not dumber than them, just because I wasted a few years in secondary school doesn't mean I am less smart than them. I can still get into university.

I am just as good. Not because of good grades or whether I am in a good university or not though. I am a good person because I have a good heart, I care for everyone around me deeply and I'm always there for them even if I'm struggling. I am a good person because I have a passion, I want to work hard to achieve my passion and help people professionally. I am a good person because I have hobbies, I have things I enjoy doing and I do my best to advance my skills, and to work hard to achieve small goals in life.

I am a good person because I haven't given up on myself yet. 6 years of depression and anxiety, and countless times standing on a ledge, wanting to jump but convincing myself not to.

Because my ultimate goal in life is to be happy, I know there will be bad days and bad experiences, some days might feel like the end of the world (just like yesterday), but some would feel like I'm floating on cloud 9. That doesn't equal a bad life. And I'm learning to accept that.

I want to be surrounded by people I love, loving them back in the same way so they know they're not alone because they were there for me when I was at my lowest. I am the happiest when I'm loving, I'm giving, and when I'm learning. Psychology is something I'm passionate about, not the GPA system. What I should do in the current moment is to learn, enjoy the process, and work hard to show my teachers, and myself, that I have done my best with what I've learned.

Thank you for your rejection. Your wake-up call. If it weren't for this, I wouldn't have realized what I was doing wrong this whole time and I probably would've stayed in that same position for a while. I'm taking it day by day now, and I'm getting better, and that's what truly matters.

My deepest gratitude for reviewing my application and considering it. Also for reading this if you have.

Thank you, I truly, deeply, appreciate it.

Warmest regards,

Ruby

24-04-24

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