Being Iska Part 1: Freshie days

So before the school starts, before the hustle and bustle of another semester, before all the upcoming panic attacks and desperation, let’s walk down the memory lane, shall we?

                There was this girl, 4’10’’ tall, little miss goody-two-shoes, shy, ready to take over her new life but unconsciously naive with what she really was in. The first 3-4 weeks were exciting, liberating and of course, exhausting. When i recall those times, one word would just pop in my mind; longing. She would count hours, days and weeks just to get by and those late night phone calls from home keeps her alive.

She conditioned herself to be a studious student and spent 5-6 hours solving a 3-page factoring problems. Life was easy; it was bearable but uncanny for her for she was never like this in the first place; but the weirdest of them all? She liked it.

Days and weeks went, people became acquaintances and acquaintances became friends. She then realized an overwhelming feeling that friendship can be eternal and she’s on the receiving end at the moment. Whatever may happen in the future, this people who might fail or succeed will be part of her life and vice versa. The thought was exhilarating and awesome.

But of all the meet-ups and introductions, a guy caught her attention. Given her new life, a prototype identity and innocence, who would say no to this kind of opportunity? They became friends, and with some applied force and pressure, they became a couple. He was her first and the feeling was foreign; first love and first heartbreak, dignity intact.

 The days come and go. There are mornings that are as bright as the smiling sun that gives inspiration out from nowhere while there are times that as I open my eyes, a heavy feeling right deep inside my heart makes me scared to face the day, thinking as to what may happen or everything could probably go wrong. I would just pray at night that the latter wouldn’t visit me on the day after and the cycle goes on.

The grades were good on the first semester but it tilted a little on the second, maybe because of the guilt that was eating me on my first relationship and also maybe my subjects were really that hard. On the second phase, I spent most hours to myself with no idea what to do except study. I realized I should never be left alone for my mind is active and confusing as ever. Talking to myself was a daily routine and to keep my mind of things was an effortful attempt to forget the negative things in my life. Maybe at that time, I got a glimpse of an early life crisis and maybe also an identity crisis. I was getting tired of the setup but the thought of failing grades were much more horrifying than anything else so I kept moving forward.

The girl that was once shy and intimidated became me. She became confident and knows what she wants. I might not state all the details that led me through what i am right now; not just because of the booze, the heartbreak, the failures, the doubts and the pressure, there were a lot of factors affected me through this one-year process. But one thing’s for sure, this is a better me. I may be capable of a more daring and dangerous things, I’m also capable of doing good and exciting things. I was born a control-freak and it does get on the way but so far, it did me good regardless of the disappointments and frustration every now and then but all in all, I will look back on that year with a smile.

Being an ISKA was really a new experience. Not just because life was there, opportunities was there, social life was on its happy hour but the learning can’t be compared to any other. Being iska doesn’t just involve your mental ability but also your holistic being. It teaches you life with its beauty and at the same time, its pain. 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s