Here's a story I had to write for two of my classes. It's just a rough draft, so if I make any more changes, they will be posted. Thank you, Lauren, for inspiring me to post it!! :)More items are to come, like poetry, and fiction :)
My Wake-Up Call
I remember the feeling of running into a brick wall, even though I hadn't. I remember knowing I was in pain, but feeling the numbness around my face. I remember thinking, "I really hope someone comes find me soon, because I might die soon." I could smell the horrible scent of blood and feel its warmth all around my face, knowing something bad had happened. It felt like minutes before someone had found me, but in reality, it was just an instant.
It was my freshman year of college, and I didn’t expect to hate it so much. Actually, I had been looking forward to college my whole life. Well, at least since 7th grade. When I previewed at UMHB, I loved it. It was the exact opposite of my high school experience- a big school that often made me feel unsafe when I walked the hallways. Previewing at UMHB seemed to give me the answer to the question I had asked for many years, “Where will I spend the best 4 years of my life at?” You can imagine my disappointment when I didn’t enjoy it, well, hated it my freshman year. Looking back, it wasn’t UMHB that I hated, it was my life, but we’ll get to that later.
When I walked on campus for the first time without my parents, I felt independent. I had a huge smile spread across my face that was hard to take off. What changed? Well, life happened. It was about 3 months into my first semester, and I felt like I had no friends. Not a single person. I began to look around at everyone and think that it just wasn’t fair. I thought I was a decent person, so why didn’t I have any friends? Then, my lack of friendships began to turn into judgments. I began crying randomly, and spent as much time in my small dorm room as possible. I didn’t want to be near people. I began feeling different. A change had happened that was so unexpected for me, the girl that was usually pretty happy. But this change wasn’t only inside. I began to look in the mirror and feel as if my appearance was changing, too. My eyes were getting very swollen, and I thought I was growing into someone I didn’t want to be. I even told my mom that I thought I was ugly. I began to gain weight, and blamed all of it on the stereotypical college experience. I was gaining the “Freshman 15” that I had heard so much about. Staying up late to study was to blame for my swollen eyes. Yet somehow I felt like the only student that was going through this. As I looked around me in class or in the cafeteria, everyone seemed so happy and content with the group of friends that they were making. I simply felt alone, and I was to blame.
It wasn’t until the last month of my first semester that I made a real friend. Her name was Rachel, and she “took me in” and introduced me to her group of friends. They were all so accepting, and my judgmental feelings for people began to diminish. We had movie nights and ate dinner together. I felt like I was finally making the friends that I was praying for. One of Rachel’s friends, Lauren, invited me to work out with her and go running. We decided to do the treadmill, and I thought I’d be great at it since I ran in high school. When I placed my hands on the pulse sensor, it told me my heart rate was in the 80s as I was running. I thought this was funny since I was running so hard, but figured that the treadmill was just malfunctioning. I noticed Lauren running a lot faster than me, and thinking, “Why can’t I run as fast as I used to?” Despite my new friends’ kindness, I still somehow felt different in a negative way.
Even though I had made some friends near the end of my first semester, I went home for Christmas break and found myself not wanting to go back. I wasn’t looking forward to a brand new semester because it held the unknown, and I wasn’t ready for it. This wasn’t the person I thought I’d be. I wanted to look forward to my college experience while I was in college- I didn’t want it to be something I dreaded. So, after an enjoyable holiday spent with my family, I went back to school with not much excitement. I went to classes, but found myself falling asleep in them, even when I would try to do my homework. I would get frustrated and blame myself for motivation. Who was this person I was becoming? How did the girl that was in all honors classes in high school become this slacker? I felt as if everything that was happening was my fault. Having friends didn’t help with my random moments of crying, and the constant feeling of being overwhelmed. I was at the end of my rope, questioning God and even being angry at Him.
It wasn’t until that morning, when the color red was what I opened my eyes to. When the whole world seemed to stop and all I could feel was the pain in my head. I remember thinking I was dead, or that I would be soon. But then I heard it. “Krista!” “Krista can you hear me?” “Are you okay?” I felt embarrassed. I had fallen and I was to blame for the blood on the bathroom floor. I was scared to move and look at myself in the mirror because I knew I fell directly on my face. I had never had such deep pain anywhere in my body. But I felt it. I felt it, even thought the pain was so intense that it numbed itself away. I felt that my face was different. My roommate, RA and RD were all there to help me. They eventually got me to my bed, and all I could say was, “I fell. How did I fall?” They asked me if I wanted to go to the hospital, and I declined, mainly out of embarrassment. I wanted to study for my British Literature test that was taking place the next morning. I walked around campus feeling the stares. But who wouldn’t stare? I was a girl with two black eyes, a broken nose, and 2 chipped teeth. I’m sure there were questions, but I began to enter a state of apathy. I was so focused on the lingering pain that none of it even mattered anymore.
It wasn’t until two days later that I finally went to the hospital. My parents drove up, and the instant my mother saw me she began to cry. I had never seen her cry so much, and it was as if her tears washed my apathy away. The doctors took so many tests, but couldn’t find the problem. I thought the worst of things, “I have leukemia.” I really thought I was going to die. They had told me that I could have a seizure and that they needed to take more tests. I was so scared, but my parents stayed by my side the whole time. I ended up staying the whole night, and it wasn’t until the next morning that the news came. The doctors came in, and they told us that I had hypothyroidism, cardiac-effusion, and anemia. They told me that hypothyroidism causes weight gain, depression and consistent fatigue. The cardiac-effusion was a fluid around my heart that was causing my heart to beat slower than normal. The doctors then told my family and me that I was very lucky. They said that the state of my heart was so intense that if I wouldn’t have passed out, I could’ve died of a heart attack a week later. Everyone says that God tripped me that morning, which is probably true. I needed a wake-up call, even if it meant going through such a hard trial such as that. After my week of recovery in the hospital, I decided to take the semester off to regain my strength. God used that time to teach me that life is so precious and it is to be cherished. He was teaching me that I did matter, and that He is my strength. I am very thankful for the lessons learned. Sometimes you just need a wake-up call.
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