When You Try Your Best But You Don't Succeed

The song "Fix You" by Coldplay has been stuck on repeat in my head for the past few days. 

Two weeks ago I took a big mid-term exam for my Statistics class. I studied hard, reviewed past tests and quizzes, even highlighted and indexed my notes and textbooks in case my brain froze and I needed a step-by-step guide on how to solve a problem. I thought I was well prepared for this open book exam and even left after taking the test feeling like I had done leaps and bounds better than past semesters.

My professor brilliantly planned to hold the exam the last day before Spring Break, so I spent the whole break stewing in my nervousness and fretting over my grade. I swear I went through Kubler-Ross' stages of grief over hypothetical test scores in my head at least five or six times. 

First, "I didn't fail. There's no way. I studied too hard! I must have gotten at least a B."

Then, "I can't believe I failed. How could this happen to me? I'm going to get even with this evil professor somehow. He is the worst professor ever."

Next, "I'll do anything to just pass this exam. I'll quit my beloved job if I have to! I won't do anything during the week except study and start reading my textbook cover to cover. I'll do anything to pass."

And then I was on to, "I don't care anymore. My life is crap. My dreams don't matter. I should just give up. I'll never graduate."

And finally, "Okay, so what if I failed? I don't even know what my score is, but even if I did fail, it's not the end of the world. There are always options."

Then Monday morning came at last. I got to class early, patiently waiting to see my test score after an agonizing wait. When I got my test back and saw my grade, hot tears filled my eyes and began rolling down my face before I could leave the classroom. I had failed again. Failed the exam that I had studied so hard for and had finished feeling decently accomplished. How could this happen? 
I felt defeated. 

Completely, utterly, entirely defeated. 

I still can't believe that I'm writing this blog post. I've shed so many tears over this stupid class as well as many other math classes but have woken up every day still without answers. 

Most people don't know that I have my associate degree from LDS Business College. I tend to purposely leave this detail out when people ask about my education, simply because I'm fairly ashamed of it. I left the University of Utah in the middle of my studies and transferred to the BC because I couldn't pass Math 1010. I tried three times and could never get the grade I needed. Thus, the only way I could graduate from the University of Utah was to transfer an associate degree from another school to cancel out any math requirements that I needed to graduate. It cancelled out everything except for stats. I'm still embarrassed about this round-about method of achieving success, but it was the only way I could manage to succeed in school. 

It's time for answers. 

I've decided, at the suggestion of my academic advisor, to be tested for a learning disability. 

It's hard to embrace this reality that I'm living, but I've experienced so much failure in my academic career thanks to math that I don't think I can survive another failed attempt to succeed. It's time for me to get some help, to get some answers, and to finally move on from this period of my life. 
It's time to let go of my pride and accept what life has given me.

I cannot express how grateful I am that I have options. If I do, in fact, have a learning disability, my graduation requirements will be changed and statistics will be replaced with another class that involves less math. Still some math, but less math. 

I don't know what to expect with this testing; there is still the possibility that they won't find anything wrong with me at all and then I'll be stuck, but I'd like to keep on the bright side for now!

So, here's to Plan B.