I shuffled myself into my room through the will of self. The room, which seemed to me so inhospitable and unsympathetic, encased me within its walls.
Despite my physical being existing at that time within that space, the room seemed illusory. The walls seemed as if they could fade, and I would still be trapped alone, in my own head. I repeated the words, I can be better, do better in my head.
I doubted if I genuinely could. This type of self doubt began over one bad grade.
Whenever I received a bad grade or bad report, this was my general response. Success - this word slithered and entrapped itself in my sinew. It had been drilled deep within my crown, forever present and never transient.
I could hear my dad roaring out the tenants of success and all that came with; saying that the hard work, the dedication, the willpower to work through anything and everything was what mattered. I took in his words and thought for hours on them.
I wanted to believe my dad’s message to the point where I knew I needed to be better than everyone else.
Both my mom and dad came from poor families with very little support. Both of my parents had a kid at the age of eighteen - my dad even had two. Still, they worked hard and were able to succeed and climb the labor ladder to prominent positions, despite never being encouraged to do so by their upbringing.
I always wanted to do better than others for fear of being the worst. I found myself always working on some project or another, yet I was never satisfied with myself.
I’m realizing I’m apart of these statistics, as I often stay up outrageously late just to try and get a better grade for an assignment.
Nevertheless, I am incredibly grateful for this push. My parents gave not only will power to push through challenging objectives, but a thirst for success and betterment of self. Without these, I would have been lost and fruitless.
According to a study I read, only 15% of teenagers get within the healthy 8-10 hours of rest and on average do more than three hours of homework a day.
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