Self-realization
Ever since I was small, I thought of myself as smart. My parents always praised me for being smart, and my confidence grew significantly. I developed a competitive nature from a young age because I was always pressured to win. Simple spelling contests would render me sleepless nights as I crammed as many words as possible. As luck would have it, I won many spelling competitions and filled my trophy cabinet. Although I loved winning, deep inside, I always felt that the pressure was too much, and I sometimes wished that I was a normal girl with average capacity.
The school was no different from home. At school, I attended my classes, and at home, I did my assignments. I remember that my father was always keen to ensure that I always got my homework right. It was a tradition that he would go through my homework before I submitted it the next day. Any errors in the work earned me a tongue-lashing session. Therefore I ensured that I always did my homework thoroughly to avoid simple mistakes. My parents were obsessed with my school work because they had my whole future lined up for me. I would complete high school and join a prestigious university and pursue a degree in actuarial science. After that, I would be a successful lady and help them in their old age. During the time, my parents had drilled their plan in my mind that I was convinced that it was my passion.
Growing up, I never allowed myself to make mistakes. My family did not have space for errors, and I grew up knowing that only unfocused people made mistakes. In my world, mistakes were equitable to failure. I remember one time I miscalculated a sum and failed a math test. My father made me stay up all night, calculating simple sums to ensure I would never miscalculate again. Although it was a simple mistake that I could have corrected my retracing my steps, my parents made it seem like I was a failure to failing a simple sum.
I still remember the day our class teacher announced to the class of a scholarship to one of the most prestigious universities in the state. The school had already shortlisted the students eligible for the scholarship, and I was one of them. However, the shortlisted students would sit for a test, and the top scorer would be granted a full scholarship. Although the rest of the students would receive scholarships, the scholarship would only cover half the tuition fees. When I told my parents of the scholarship competition, they made it clear that I had to win the full scholarship. A full scholarship would ensure I studied at a high-end university, and my parents would not spend a single penny on tuition fees. Therefore, I knew I had to work hard and scoop the top position. The test was administered, and what remained was waiting for the results.
I was position two! I could not believe my eyes when I received my results and admission letter. All along, my parents knew I would become position one and win the full scholarship. However, in my hands was a letter indicating that I was position two, and I had won a partial scholarship. I could not bear to disappoint my parents, and I knew I had to take action quickly. I rushed to the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. Without thinking, I swallowed the entire bottle of some opioid pills that my dad used as painkillers.
I remember waking up in the hospital with my parents looking at me with worry written all over their faces. In an emotion-laden session, I told my parents that all the pressure I felt had driven me to attempt suicide. For once, my parents listened as I poured my heart out. It was that moment in the hospital bed that I realized that I needed to allow myself to make mistakes. I would embrace my failures and turn them into success stories. Never again would I allow failure to drive me to attempt suicide. No matter what my parents planned for my future, I would prioritize my needs.