Withdrawn

Dog woke me up early by barking to go out and have breakfast. I couldn’t get back to sleep, too plagued by anxiety. At the top of the list was fearing I might miss the deadline to withdraw from classes and receive a grade reflecting that I withdrew, rather than a failing grade – the latter of which, in addition to hurting my pride and GPA, might get me kicked out of school. I checked and sure enough, the deadline is TODAY.

I’m disappointed. Part of me was hoping that, if I talked to the instructors for the classes, I might be able to receive accommodations that would enable me to complete them this semester. I already have an appointment with one today, but the one who acts as my adviser can’t meet with me until tomorrow. And to be honest, considering what I need the accommodations to be, I really feel like I’d be shortchanging myself and my field if I completed the courses with them – what, to make this whole process easier and more convenient for me? Bah!

So, I went ahead and withdrew. 3 clicks, and the “withdrawal” grade is already on my unofficial transcript. I only have 2 classes this semester, classes that are awesome. I don’t have to jump through bureaucratic hoops, and I don’t have to take a medical leave of absence. I don’t even have to keep my appointment to take a midterm this afternoon.

It isn’t a scary thought anymore, it’s reality. I’m waiting for the whole world to start crashing down on me. But until it does, at least I can experience a small amount of peace.

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