Perfection Takes a Walk (Revision)

Brit Sumyk

Perfection Takes a Walk

Throughout my life I have been afraid of failure, and would much rather sacrifice my mental sanity than fail in the never-ending quest for perfection.  In my junior year at St. Ignatius College Prep, this character trait would catch up with me and put me through personal hell.

It was the day before the start of my junior year of high school, and I was sixteen years old.  My friends and I were gathered in my friend Liza’s backyard, a large green and flowery haven that my group and I called home for the past seventy warm, summer days.  In the center of the yard was a huge, blue trampoline—the kind that my mother always tried to discourage me from playing on.  Being my stubborn self, I performed a back flip with no issues, and continued on with my frolicking.  I woke up the next morning for the first day of school—my outfit had been laid out from the night before, and I could smell my mom cooking my favorite breakfast of chocolate chip pancakes, eggs, and sausage.  I stood up, winced, and knew that something was out of place.  I went through my usual routine, received some Ibuprofen from my mom, and went to carpool with my best friend Margaret. 

            We were juniors.  This was a monumental year for the class of 2008, because it was the last year our grades would be sent to prospective colleges.  College visits were starting to take precedence, Junior Prom was fast approaching, and our class finally received our class rings.  It was a year of opportunity, and my perfectionism was thrown into overdrive.

After struggling through one and a half days of class, I was forced to pay the dean’s office a visit.  The nurse called my parents to come pick me up for excruciating back pain.   

I was scared of the failure.  “What is wrong with me, and why can’t I make it though even one week of class without something happening?” I would wonder.  I tried to block it from my mind.  I always hated missing school, because it put me so far behind.  When I was behind on my work, I did not have the luxury of time to allow me to complete assignments with debilitating perfection. 

Two weeks into the school year, and I had missed 7 out of ten school days because of a trampoline.  To provide myself with more time to complete my work, I stayed up all night, every night, and drank Red Bull and Starbucks frappuccinos to make that humanly possible.

My back pain progressively worsened, and I went through various MRIs and CT scans in order to discover the problem.  That day in the doctor’s office when we thought we had the answer was one of the most difficult days of my life.

“Sally, your daughter has a herniated disc.  The disc in her lower back has been flattened out, and is pushing on the near tissue and muscle, causing the pain.  She needs to stop horseback riding, and needs to stay home for at least a week to rest.”

I heard these words come out of Dr. Giri’s mouth and my eyes immediately welled up with tears.  I felt scared, alone, helpless, imperfect, like my life was spiraling out of control, and I wanted to vomit.  Not only did I have a chronic, lifetime ailment that would probably continue to cause lots of pain and never allow me to have a normal life, I would have to stop riding horses, which is my biggest passion.  On top of that, I would have to miss more school, which in my mind equated to me sleeping less and working harder. 

Sleeping less and working harder is exactly what I did.  When it became humanly impossible to carry on that way, I freaked out.  Anxiety took over me.  I had panic attacks on such a frequent basis, I almost had to go to the hospital because during one of them I could not stop hyperventilating.  Everything was spinning out of control.  I was not doing well in my classes, which was not something I was ever used to.   My parents never put a great amount of pressure on me—as long as I tried my best, the result was acceptable.  For me though, I was disappointed in any sort of failure or loss.  In my mind I figured that as long as I put in enough time and effort, perfection was possible. 

The stress and sacrifices I made in regards to my health showed: at the end of the first semester, I had missed 67 days of school, and by spring break of second semester I had missed 50 days of school.  My family and Mr. Conroy, the Vice Principle of Academics, decided that it was in my best interests to drop the second semester of my junior year of high school.

My world collapsed.  I was told that I may not be able to graduate with my class in May of 2008.  “I can’t allow this to happen,” I thought, “another failure cannot happen.”  The next two months, I pulled myself together, worked and scheduled myself responsibly and successfully, and at the cessation of senior year, walked at my high school graduation. 

“Pomp and Circumstance” playing in the background, maroon cap and gown on, class ring on, family in the stands watching, and diploma in hand, I proudly shook the school president’s and the principle’s hands, waved, got my picture taken, and sat down with my friends.  I could see my family cheering me on from the stands, huge smiles and looks of pride on their faces.  I had done it.  Hearing my name called and walking across the stage caused me to shed my need for perfection.  I knew that if I continued to go about my life that way, this would only happen again.  My back was better, I had been accepted into all of the colleges I had applied to, and was ready to begin a new chapter in my life.  It was one of the most accomplished and inspired days of my life, and was when I realized how much I had grown up and grown out of in two years to make me a happier person. 

 

 

 

Writing Process

            When I began thinking about how to write my Personal Journalism article, I wasn’t sure of where to start.  Picking a topic was difficult, because I didn’t want it to seem like I was trying to put myself on a pedestal, bring sympathy, or sound whiny.  Once I had arrived at my topic, I didn’t find it emotionally hard to write about, which was encouraging and unexpected.  However, forming it into a story that others should care about was different; the event did not directly impact my readers, so I tried to put as much emotion and life into the story as possible so they felt like they were there with me as it was happening.  I have trouble structuring and writing my personal essays, and they usually end up sounding like they belong on a college application, which was my biggest struggle for this piece.  In my rewrite, I need to work on making my piece come to life more through structure and dialogue.  I outlined the events that occurred (it was tricky when some were simultaneous events) and needed to decide which events were significant to my message and story, and those that could be left out.  That was hard because, in my opinion, every aspect was important and played a large part in the story.  This made staying within the word limit difficult.  Concluding took a lot of thought because it required a message, which I still have to figure out.  

Workshop Comments

Austin:

Austin, I love this piece.  Even though you are not yet finished, your idea is clear and concise.  I especially enjoyed your fourth paragraph, the one in which you described Mr. Perfect.  The detail you used in this paragraph was very strong, and really gives the reader a clear view and perspective of what you are thinking.   The only thing I can says is to change up/strengthen your ending, but you said that you are not yet finished.  Great work so far though, I really enjoyed reading your piece!

 

Mae, Panicked:

Mae, your piece really struck home with me.  Although I do not suffer from anxiety as much as you do, I can definitely sympathize, especially with the second half of your essay.  Your “During the so called ’best times of my life,’….” paragraph, the same thing happened to me, about not sleeping and getting sick.  This is such an interesting topic, and I think a lot of people-ESPECIALLY college students-can relate.  Maybe, in order to strengthen your idea from the start, you could alter your lede, maybe by starting with either the panic attack experienced by your sister, or the one by your mother.  Great work though!

 

Regis, How I Got Robbed Twice in One Week:

Regis, for starters, I really like your title.  Even though it is simple and to the point, it pushed across a sense of conflict that made me want to read more!

I really enjoy your idea and story.  Maybe expand a little bit on the potential dangers of Panama, like how you mentioned that cars were mostly used to illegal activities like kidnappings and trafficking.  In the end, you also brought up how Panama was not the same as you had left it.  In the beginning, maybe put an anecdote about the Panama you had remembered, and demonstrate the difference using your stories about being robbed.

Also, be careful with the punctuation.  Adding things like commas would make your piece much more clear and concise.  Aside from that, great job, and I can’t wait to read your piece as a finished product!

 

Jackie, Young Hearts Run Free: Self Preservation Is What’s Really Going On Today

Jackie, I really really enjoyed reading this.  You were very clear, very concise, and to the point, and your detail made me want to keep reading.  You explained your feelings so vividly and so well, which made your piece relatable-it made the reader feel like a part of your experience, and I felt like I understood where you were coming from.  The only change I can think of adding is at the end.  I would tie in something about your parents relationship again, how you felt about the completion of the conference, something that would add closure to all of the intense feelings you described in your piece. 

Toni, White bread: the new spilled milk:

Toni, this is great.  I really like how you incorporated dialogue into your piece, because it added to your voice, to detail, and enhanced your anecdotes.  At the end, I also like how you showed that your story relates to many others in our generation-reading through, I bet a lot of people would be able to nod their heads at certain parts and acknowledge what you were saying as truth.  I also think that tying in another article from the New York Times gave your piece a whole new level of credibility-even though your story is credible and legitimate enough, there is actual fact and study that backs it up.  That being said, I was a little bit confused as to the transition you went through mentally from the beginning of your piece to the very end.  However, I really like how you showed your experiences through examples.  This is definitely something I need to add into my piece.  Great job though.

 

Martin, Hospital Birthday:

Martin, you are such an excellent writer.  I found your attitude to be ironic, something that really kept me engaged in your piece.  You managed to find some positives to a seemingly negative subject, such as how you still actually kind of liked the smell of hospitals. I also really like how you went further into your topic.  In the last paragraph, you mention how thirty minutes ago, you had called your mother.  It provided a sense of closure to your piece, something that brought your past experiences through to the present.  Some of your sentences were a bit wordy, which you can maybe change up a bit, but aside from that your piece was fantastically written, and I really enjoyed reading it.

 

Elizabeth, Engaged? Stumbling Upon the Mrs. Degree at K College:

Elizabeth, congratulations!! I can see through your writing the struggle here.  You incorporate a lot of themes in your piece, and I feel that if you maybe concentrated on a few instead of more, your piece can really be strengthened.  I really like how you talked about generational differences and included your mother’s and grandmother’s views on the institution of marriage- this gives a larger perspective, and shows how your thoughts differ and reflect those of a generation.  Overall, I really enjoyed your piece, but maybe by narrowing your themes it can be stronger.

 

Not Like the Movies

I have seen the movies, read the books, and watched the television shows that attempted to depict what high school was supposed to be like-the awkward relationships, less than brilliant decisions, and strong friendships that were supposedly built to last a lifetime.  Students in these superfluous stories of entertainment do not paint an accurate picture of high school-twenty-three year old looking students focus on the drama of their lives, attend school, and seemingly have no work to do.  As expected, Hollywood could not prepare me for what life at St. Ignatius College Prep would throw in my direction. 

Throughout my life I have been afraid of failure, and would much rather sacrifice my mental sanity than fail in the never-ending quest for perfection.  In my junior year at St. Ignatius College Prep, this character trait would catch up with me and put me through personal hell.

Before school started, I made one of those expected and less than brilliant decisions and decided to do a back flip on my friend Liza’s larger than life trampoline.  Fast forward a day later, and the pain in my lower back made is nearly impossible to walk, sit down, turn, or do any basic function.  As luck would have it, this was the first day of junior year.  I pushed through the first day, my back progressively in more pain as the day went on.  The next day I went to school, and ended up going home after homeroom because walking caused excruciating pain.  This continued for two days, and I finally went to see the doctor.  X-rays, MRIs, and CT scans were done, and my doctors concluded that I had a herniated disc in my lower back.  Basically, the disc in my back had flattened out to the point where it was pushing other muscles and causing spasms. 

This was awful news.  Not only did it mean that I would have to stop horseback riding and potentially sell my horse, which is a huge passion of mine, but it also meant that I would possibly need surgery on my back.  By this point, I had missed a week and a half of school.  I sacrificed my health and sleep in order to make up my missed assignments, which made my immune system practically worthless.  I continuously caught various viruses and illnesses, all back to back, which made attending my classes difficult.  The first semester of the year, I had around fifty absences. 

Then I contracted a cough.  This cough lasted weeks, maybe even months.  Still trying to stay on top of my schoolwork, I pulled all-nighters just doing homework, and only sleeping during the short naps I would take when I arrived home from school.  Teachers would send me home half way through the day because I would try to get through school with maybe one hour of sleep, and they wanted me to put my health ahead of my academics.  Even though my teachers were all understanding and told me to complete assignments at my leisure, I still worked myself to the core.  Panic attacks ensued, and the stress I was experiencing was consuming my every thought.

I did not think that the level of stress and pressure I was experiencing was possible.  I tried to stop.  I tried to listen to the people closest to me. I tried to let go of it all, to relax and get through only what was possible while simultaneously taking care of myself.  I couldn’t do it-I was weeks behind on homework, had numerous tests to make up, and a negative amount of energy to pull motivation from.  Halfway through the second semester, my parents and I scheduled a meeting with the Vice Principal of Academics, Brendan Conroy. During the meeting, we discussed how I had already missed fifty days of the semester, and that if I continued, it would be very difficult for me to catch up, and my GPA would suffer.  The decision was made that I would drop the current semester, take care of my health, and then carry on from there.  Instead of attending school, home schooling presented itself as an option.  When that did not work out, I told myself that I would graduate on time, with my class, no matter what. 

Dropping second semester was more difficult for me to rebound from than it should have been.  I felt like a quitter, a failure, and weak.  Why couldn’t I make it through?  Why couldn’t I get better? It was difficult for me to give up and take care of myself like I was being forced to because I did not want to be an exception to rules, and I wanted to prove to myself and to others that I was strong enough to make it through.   At the lowest low I have ever felt, I refused to accept the fact that I may not be able to graduate with my friends, and promised myself that I would do whatever it took in order to walk the stage in June 2008. 

Completely demoralized, I worked with the school and decided to take on an independent study in Spanish, which fulfilled my requirement for graduation.  Over the summer, I took a chemistry course at my community college, and rearranged my schedule for the next year.  Even though I was placed in two junior classes and had to graduate without an Honors Diploma, on June 6, 2008, I walked with my high school class on the scheduled graduation date. 

Graduation was more of a celebration or relief than anyone could imagine.  I had made it, accomplished my goal, and proved to myself that I was capable.  This whole experience made me a stronger person, and showed me that I could get through anything life threw at me.  By being at the lowest point I have ever been it, I was forced to crawl out of it.  Junior year was a crucial year for colleges, and I was afraid that my absences would negatively impact my chances of being accepted to a good school.  Throughout the application process, I realized that everything that happened had somehow turned into a positive experience.  I learned more about myself in that year than I had in the previous seventeen years of my life, and the empowerment I earned from getting through it made it an experience that I will never take for granted.