Distressed? I think so.

You have no idea how many times I've tried to write a blog since I've been here...

I'll be in class, day-dreaming, thinking of THEE best experience/emotion/feeling to write about, but once I actually get out of class, sit down on my bed, pull out my laptop, and type a sentence or two, I feel unsatisfied, mindlessly pressing the backspace key with no effort entailed, and I'm just left sitting there, staring at a blank page. But now, I really have something to write, and I need to let it out.

So right now, I am in distress. Before you go to University, you're always, always, ALWAYS told, "You may be getting great marks in high school, but expect to get C's and D's when you go to university."

I heard. I listened. I was warned. But as with everything else, I thought I was invisible. I thought that I wasn't going to go through that. I thought that I was going to thrive, and that getting an A+ was like riding a bike. But now, I apparently need my training wheels back.

Last week in English literature, we wrote an in-class essay. I got my paper back today, with a "C" written at the bottom of the page.

-cue shattering heart-

You're probably thinking, "Oh, what's the big deal? You're supposed to get slaughtered on your first essays." But slip into my shoes for a minute. Writing is supposed to be my talent, my thing, my gift from God. It's the only skill I possess to even begin to feel like I have a purpose in life. In grade 11, after writing a paper for English Literature, I remember clearly like it was yesterday, my English teacher telling me that I had just raised the bar for the class. For the entire grade, even! He said I was gifted, and that now he's going to expect work like mine from everyone in the class. I was thrilled, inspired, and just truly...happy. There's no greater feeling in the world than just realizing that you are actually good at something, and that you have the potential to somehow make a difference in the world.

I'm not a star soccer player. I'm not a political debater. I'm not a super-model. I'm not married to a great husband with whom I have 4 perfect little children, who are going to become doctors and lawyers. I can't do a cartwheel or a triple axel. I don't have great social skills. I can't understand chemistry or calculus for the life of me. I can't play the drums, or the violin, or even the piano decently. And if I can't write even a simple little essay, using my God-give talents;

WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?!?

It honestly feels like a stab to the heart when the person sitting next to you in class, the Biology major, gets a higher mark on the essay than I, the ENGLISH major. Oh my goodness.

I can't tell whether I'm just freaking out, or whether this is a sign that I haven't yet found my purpose in life. What I do know is that my over-confidence definitely gets in the way when it comes to writing, which is terrible, and unnecessary. And it's embarrassing to admit that, especially now, after getting a C on my essay.

I'm not going to give up though. I'm not going to be a university drop-out. I'm going to keep trying. I'm going to do my homework, complete my readings, and keep my writing skills alive. (which is why I'm sitting the library at this very moment) I wanna do what I love to do, which is write. I get a high, an adrenaline rush from writing. Heck, I get endorphins from it!

Afterall, this was expected... so why should I worry?