Where did my Villain Plot started? Uh, Uni.
There are days when I seriously ask myself, why do people romanticize university life? Why do they say itās āthe best years of your lifeā? Because from where Iām standing or, limping, actually it feels more like an endless test of patience, sleep, and sanity.
Everyone keeps saying, āYouāll learn to socialize in college!ā Oh, really? Because every time Iām forced to socialize, I feel my social battery implode faster than my GPA during finals week.
University is supposed to be this magical setting where you ābuild connections,ā āmake lifelong friends,ā and āgrow as a person.ā But more often than not, itās just a chaotic simulation of adult life where youāre yelled at by professors, ignored by classmates, and belittled by people your age who somehow think theyāre better than you because they finished one group task faster.
And donāt even get me started on group work. Whoever invented the phrase āteamwork makes the dream workā clearly never did a nursing group project at 2 a.m. with people who vanish mid-task. Because teamwork doesnāt make the dream work ā it makes you do everyone elseās work and still get scolded like itās your fault.
š The MCL Incident
Exactly a month ago, as Iām writing this magnificent spiral of thought, my MCL got torn and my university ID got lost. In one single day.
Apparently, someone in my group who may or may not have had unresolved rage toward me āaccidentallyā hit my knee. And that was that. Boom. Pain. Limping. Crutches. Goodbye, mobility.
And the worst part? Everyone suddenly acted like we were in some medical drama. āOh my gosh, are you okay?ā āThatās so unfortunate!ā āWeāre praying for your recovery!ā
Meanwhile, I was lying through my teeth, smiling and saying,
āIt was worth it.ā
No. It wasnāt.
It was the worst university experience Iāve ever had. The most useless injury, from the most useless event, wrapped in that classic āIt builds character!ā justification adults, or rather, Clinical Instructors, love to say whenever something goes wrong.
You know what would really build character?
Letting me rest. Letting me breathe. Letting me learn without all this extra noise.
š The So-Called āTraditionā
And then thereās our Founderās Week performance: the cursed cherry on top, and no, sorry not sorry for giving it the title it deserves. Our PE instructor had the audacity to call it an āimportant tradition.ā
Sure, I love tradition but not the kind that eats up my schedule, invades my already thin patience, and forces me to dance when I can barely function as a human being.
Why are nursing students expected to perform like theatre majors when we barely have time to memorize anatomy? If you want us to stop being ālazy,ā maybe stop dragging us into these ābonding activitiesā that do nothing but add more stress.
Because, truly, nothing screams academic excellence like a bunch of exhausted nursing students dancing under the sun, pretending to smile while silently calculating how many hours of sleep theyāre losing.
And the irony? The same people who yell āYou should be grateful for this opportunity!ā are the ones who would never survive a day in our shoes. Especially that PE instructor who, letās be honest, looked like she couldnāt last a full minute in her own class.
š The Anxiety Loop
Youād think Founderās Week or Nursesā Day would be for us ā that weād get to relax, explore the campus, maybe sit under a tree and contemplate life.
But no. Instead, we get handed a schedule, some vague rubrics, and a āGood luck, do your best!ā pep talk that feels more like a curse than encouragement.
So now, my brain is a constant swirl of deadlines, performances, surprise tasks, and that dreaded phrase:
āOkay class, announcement later.ā
Every time I hear that, my soul leaves my body.
Iāve reached a point where my anxiety has become so routine that procrastination feels safer than starting early. I wait until the last minute not because Iām lazy, but because my body refuses to enter āstudy modeā when thereās always something chaotic lurking around the corner.
University was supposed to make me a better communicator, a better leader, a better nurse. But sometimes it just makes me tired. Tired in ways sleep canāt fix.
𩹠What I Really Want
I donāt need āteam-building activitiesā or ācharacter-shaping performances.ā
I just want to study. To learn in peace. To become good at what Iām actually here for: getting that damned (or not so damned) nursing degree.
If universities removed all these pointless āminor subjectsā and events designed to āfoster growth,ā nursing could be finished in three years ā or four, at most ā with every hour spent on what actually matters: the science and art of care.
Instead, weāre juggling unnecessary stress disguised as opportunity, anxiety disguised as excitement, and exhaustion disguised as āthe university experience.ā
So no, I donāt find joy in every event. No, I donāt get thrilled when they say āitās mandatory.ā And no, I donāt think dancing under fluorescent lights makes me a better nurse.
I think it just makes me human ā one whoās trying to survive a system that calls burnout ābonding.ā
š¬ A Little Note to My Fellow Students
If youāve ever sat in a hallway with your lunch getting cold because you didnāt have time to eat.
If youāve ever smiled through a panic attack because someone said ābe gratefulā.
If youāve ever wondered why every fun event feels like a punishment disguised as āschool spiritā.
Then I really hope that you relate in this rant-ish blog of mine and let's be real, its wouldn't be the last one. Nope, I'm still in my first year and we have THREE MORE YEARS TO GOš„!
Weāre tired, but weāre still showing up. Weāre limping, but still laughing about it. Weāre anxious, but still doing our best.
University isnāt shaping us into better people. Weāre shaping ourselves quietly, stubbornly, in between the chaos.
And honestly? Thatās enough. š












