From a young age, I struggled academically. Until class 7, I was a below-average student, often scolded and beaten for incomplete homework and slow writing. However, things began to change in class 8, and by class 9, I had become one of the top students. My family, especially proud of my academic turnaround, decided that I should pursue a medical career, just like my sister.
In 11th grade, I enrolled in a coaching center, where I scored full marks on my first test, earning me a lot of recognition. The director of the center even sought my feedback on their teachers. Eventually, I secured a place at a prestigious medical college in Delhi, cracking the NEET on my first attempt at just 17. Despite the pride and joy, I had never been away from home, a home where I was deeply cherished as a child born after 21 years of my parents’ marriage.
The Struggle
When I moved into the hostel in 2022, reality hit hard. I was no longer the center of attention. Everyone was as brilliant as I was, and the competition was fierce. Homesickness set in, and I would return home every two weeks. My studies suffered, and I failed my first internal exams. Falling into bad company, I got distracted and partied the night before exams, leading to poor results and cheating just to get by.
My worried parents moved to Delhi temporarily to help me regain my focus. Their presence helped, and I managed to pass my first year. However, my second year brought new challenges. I felt disconnected from my friends and began taking their jokes personally. Isolation crept in, and I stopped attending classes. My overconfidence led me to believe I could pass without much effort, just like in the first year.
Living alone after our rooms were separated, I spiraled into a deep depression. For two months, I rarely left my room, relying on my phone and laptop, and ordering food online. I neglected self-care, even skipping showers for weeks in the sweltering June heat. It was during this period of profound isolation that I attempted suicide. Thankfully, I survived, but it was a wake-up call. I passed my exams but skipped my practicals, shutting out concerned friends who knocked on my door.
Reaching Out
Returning home for a week, I didn't celebrate my birthday. My mother noticed my silence and insisted I stay home. One day, she gently coaxed the truth out of me. She sought help from a local healer who prescribed a traditional medicine. While it boosted my energy, making me hyperactive, it wasn't a permanent solution.
Back at college, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. The psychiatrist explained that I had swung from depression to mania. I became rebellious, arguing with everyone, and creating chaos. My parents, alarmed, moved to Delhi again. They attended meetings with my psychiatrist and college principal, resulting in a two-week leave and the start of medication.
The Turning Point
During my manic phase, I fought with relatives and college seniors, convinced the police were after me. My exams loomed, and I managed to attend one practical. My life was chaotic, but my parents never left my side. Their unwavering support was my lifeline.
Gradually, with professional help and my parents' support, I started to heal. I felt like my old self, the dedicated student preparing for NEET. I resumed self-care, continued my homeopathy medication, and reconnected with friends and teachers. The sensitivity and understanding shown by my college were invaluable. My journey back to stability was bolstered by a network of supportive people.
A Message of Hope
Reflecting on my journey, I realize that support is crucial. In my darkest moments, without my family and friends, I wouldn't have made it. Today, I'm in my third year of medical school, feeling more hopeful and resilient than ever!
To anyone reading this, my message is simple: reach out! You might fear judgment, but more often than not, people are willing to help. Life is full of challenges, but it's also full of people who care. Don't hesitate to ask for help. Life can be beautiful if you let others in. :)
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