I Get Angry Sometimes
I got my first rejection letter from a graduate program a short while ago. I got over that rejection letter pretty quick, after an initial fit: Jon offered me cookies. I screamed that I didn’t deserve cookies.
Now, I’m just nervous for the rest of my schools. I’m treating the silence as good news; I haven’t gotten notice that I’ve been tossed out at the first glance. I discovered that one of my mentors, Dr. S, is friends with one of the professors I picked as a mentor at my number 1 program. Dr. S was kind enough to email the other professor to talk me up. Through that email, I discovered that they were going to be meeting that week to discuss the first round. That was two weeks ago. I haven’t gotten a rejection letter, so I’m going to assume I made it through the first round.
I’ve tried to remain realistic about my chances of getting into grad school… mostly because I don’t have much of a choice. Last year, one of my brilliant classmates were rejected from all of the programs he applied to. I have Dr. K over my shoulder, reminding me to apply to masters’ programs, just in case I don’t get into a doctorate program. Because I’ve remained realistic, I have a series of back-up plans just in case I don’t get into any school.
Those back-up plans all involve me moving out of my mother’s house and back to Peoria. I’ll be able to live with friends and get a second job. I would love for that job to be in a tailor’s shop or a bridal shop, so I can continue to use my sewing skills. This does not sit well with my mother.
She seems to have taken the idea of my back-up plans as a personal offense to her because she and my father paid for my bachelors. She wants me to go out and do something with that degree. With only a bachelors in psychology, I can’t do a whole lot… and what I can do, I don’t want to do. I would much rather work in another field that I enjoy until I can get into school to get to where I actually want to be: A research scientist.
She has argued with me about it more than once. It continues to be more infurating. I was this close to telling her to fuck off. Instead, I abruptly cut off the conversation and hung up.
I have enough stress about this whole fiasco without her adding to it. I’ve got a tenuous grasp on my self-worth. My mantra has become: I am still a worthwhile human being even if I don’t get into grad school the first time. I have so many people rooting for my success that it feels like that if I don’t get into grad school, I’ll be letting all of them down, in addition to myself. I do not also need a guilt trip about money.
I am working so damn hard to get into grad school. Last semester, I barely had time to sleep. This semester, I continue to take on new tasks to further build up my CV.
I am so scared.
I am also almost certain that I won’t get into any programs I applied for.
I do not need anyone else’s negativity, as my own mind and stress do a good enough job on their own.
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Tags: anger, grad school, Life, rant