“Where do you see yourself 10 years from now?”
How dreamily I was answering that 10 years ago, and how uncertainly I am encountering that question 10 years later.
“Where do you see yourself 10 years from now?”
Have you encountered someone who asks you that? And do you ever have thoughts about it?
I was always so sure of my dreams and plans. And I can see myself in a clinic assessing my patients or prescribing them medications.
Or do you ever feel that way? When all your life you believe you’re one of the best in your line of work, then one day you go to a new place and find out that you’re not even half as good as you thought you were?
Unlike what most people are saying, for me, school has always been fun. I really enjoy studying and engaging myself with school tasks and new learning. I am not really a smart student — just book smart. I don’t believe that lessons are easy, but you can make them possible through hard work and thorough understanding. With perfect scores and the highest grades in your class, it really feels fulfilling.
“You’re so good at this.”
“How did you do that? I can’t even.”
My parents have always been proud of me. And I was the favorite child. They have expectations for me, but I live on my very own. High school, and I already laid out my plans and set my dreams straight. I will be someone I can be proud of. I won’t disappoint myself because I can do it right if I work hard.
Growing up in a poor family, we never had it easy, so I won’t die poor, I said to myself. That’s one of my realest dreams. I will do well in school and land my dream job. I will provide for my family.
Graduated as a medalist from high school and failing the college entrance exam are two very different things I don’t know I would meet.
My life took a 180° turn. It’s true, college would humble you really quick. The coming of the pandemic didn’t help me either. I stopped school. My friends continued their studies, and I was left behind. I just can’t. Online classes are so hard for me. I can’t cope.
Most of the time I encounter my friends on online platforms, I purposely ignore them. I cut them off. It’s my problem because I know I am envious. It hurt me because they continued their lives, and I couldn’t. It’s like that’s how I comfort myself — to be oblivious about their success because I don’t have my own.
Everybody continued walking on their desired path, and I was just left there. Everyone is on their way to another chapter of their lives, and I just stayed on mine, unmoving. The pages of my book stick to each other, and I can’t flip into a new one. And I am scared because I can’t take another step. I realized I am not good as I thought I was. I am not acing any tests anymore because I failed this life’s test for me. I don’t know how to continue; I don’t know what path to take anymore. I just don’t know.
I always believe that if I work hard, maybe I will be able to get it. If I desire something so hard that my heart is aching for, it is possible for me to achieve it no matter what. Nothing is impossible, they say.
“I thought we’d assess patients?”
“I thought we’d not die poor.”
“I thought we’d provide for the family.”
“I thought so, too.”
If there are people who knew before me, they will be disappointed in how my life has turned because I am, too. I bet they would laugh, and I would just watch and cry.
Nowadays, I always cry because I am so scared that this is not the person, I once dreamed of being. This is not the person I saw 10 years ago.
It’s been 4 years since my life stopped. Most of my friends are graduating this month, and I just hope I will, too. I hope someday I can find my life purpose to continue dreaming again and to take even just a step so that I can move forward, because right now I still can’t. It’s just fear that’s living inside me, anxiety, and overthinking if I will ever have the strength to carry on. For this exact moment, I am just holding it together, and continue on hoping for the uncertain.
I hope I haven’t forgotten how to dream. I wish I had just chosen to hide that fragment somewhere inside me. I hope it’s not gone.