I’m currently in my fourth semester of college, and it’s been quite a roller coaster ride in terms of my academic and social lives.
Let me start with the academic side of college life. When I first entered community college, I went with the intention of majoring in Mass Communications. I was originally going to major in English–most of the authors I read have graduated from university with English degrees (Bachelors or Masters)–but some idiot at my vocational rehab center HIGHLY recommended that I go into the Mass Communications program because I would be better off with that degree financially. Because I want to be novelist, I thought that I was going to take at least ONE math class, which would’ve given me some relief if not for one problem: the Gordon Rule. According to the Gordon Rule, college students must take at least TWO mathematics courses in order to obtain an Associate of Arts (AA) degree. Future novelists like myself are no exception, so I had to take College Algebra the first semester and Statistics the second. The first portion of Algebra was hell because of my learning preference: taking notes in class before opening up the textbook and working from there. Some of my classmates suggested I look into the textbook before the lecture, but I was too stubborn to listen, and that resulted in a “D” on the first test. After that failure, I finally took on that advice to review the textbook before each lecture–along with tutoring sessions at my local library–and my test grades improved.
In Statistics the next semester it was the same thing, only I had a permanent substitute professor after the first test. After all the hard work of trying to complete my only two math credits, I managed to pass both of those classes with a “B.”
Socially, it’s been a big mess on my brain. I’m good friends with my mom and two girls who are daughters of my mom’s friend, but my love life? I haven’t had one for nearly a year now.
Five days before my flight to California last May, my boyfriend–let’s call him Jack–broke up with me because he said he was going through some sort of an identity crisis (at least from what I understood when he said, “I just don’t know who I am anymore.”).
Jack has Asperger’s syndrome, like me, and is one freakin’ genius–encyclopedic knowledge on video games, a penchant for computer repair, and an avid cosplayer. However, he was going through a lot of emotional trouble because his employment training program was coming to end, and he didn’t know how that was going to affect his job at the hotel he was working at. Luckily, Jack kept his job, but I haven’t seen him at all since that night. Although we still kept in touch with each other through text messaging and Twitter, my life was never the same without him.
Within months after the breakup, I went from happily-in-love Céline Dion to love-lost Toni Braxton. I felt like my brain was losing some of the greatest gifts Asperger’s gave me–photographic memory, quick reaction time, etc. I even flunked my learner’s permit exam thrice because all I was thinking about was how to get Jack back into my life. He always made me feel confident in all my pursuits, so I felt that if Jack didn’t break up with me and further distance himself from me I would be driving right now in lieu of being stuck in my own home.
Well, I would love to talk more about my college life, but I’m just gonna leave it here. I feel like I have explained enough.