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 it’s “the best years of your life”? Because from where I’m standing or, limping, actually it feels more like an endless test of patience, sleep, and sanity.
Everyone keeps saying, “You’ll learn to socialize in college!” Oh, really? Because every time I’m 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 “build connections,” “make lifelong friends,” and “grow as a person.” But more often than not, it’s just a chaotic simulation of adult life where you’re yelled at by professors, ignored by classmates, and belittled by people your age who somehow think they’re better than you because they finished one group task faster.
And don’t even get me started on group work. Whoever invented the phrase “teamwork makes the dream work” clearly never did a nursing group project at 2 a.m. with people who vanish mid-task. Because teamwork doesn’t make the dream work — it makes you do everyone else’s work and still get scolded like it’s your fault.
🚑 The MCL Incident
Exactly a month ago, as I’m 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 “accidentally” 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. “Oh my gosh, are you okay?” “That’s so unfortunate!” “We’re praying for your recovery!”
Meanwhile, I was lying through my teeth, smiling and saying,
“It was worth it.”
No. It wasn’t.
It was the worst university experience I’ve ever had. The most useless injury, from the most useless event, wrapped in that classic “It builds character!” 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.
🎭 The So-Called “Tradition”
And then there’s our Founder’s 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 “important tradition.”
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 “lazy,” maybe stop dragging us into these “bonding activities” 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 they’re losing.
And the irony? The same people who yell “You should be grateful for this opportunity!” are the ones who would never survive a day in our shoes. Especially that PE instructor who, let’s be honest, looked like she couldn’t last a full minute in her own class.
💀 The Anxiety Loop
You’d think Founder’s Week or Nurses’ Day would be for us — that we’d 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 “Good luck, do your best!” 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:
“Okay class, announcement later.”
Every time I hear that, my soul leaves my body.
I’ve 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 I’m lazy, but because my body refuses to enter “study mode” when there’s 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 can’t fix.
🩹 What I Really Want
I don’t need “team-building activities” or “character-shaping performances.”
I just want to study. To learn in peace. To become good at what I’m actually here for: getting that damned (or not so damned) nursing degree.
If universities removed all these pointless “minor subjects” and events designed to “foster growth,” nursing could be finished in three years — or four, at most — with every hour spent on what actually matters: the science and art of care.
Instead, we’re juggling unnecessary stress disguised as opportunity, anxiety disguised as excitement, and exhaustion disguised as “the university experience.”
So no, I don’t find joy in every event. No, I don’t get thrilled when they say “it’s mandatory.” And no, I don’t think dancing under fluorescent lights makes me a better nurse.
I think it just makes me human — one who’s trying to survive a system that calls burnout “bonding.”
💬 A Little Note to My Fellow Students
If you’ve ever sat in a hallway with your lunch getting cold because you didn’t have time to eat.
If you’ve ever smiled through a panic attack because someone said “be grateful”.
If you’ve ever wondered why every fun event feels like a punishment disguised as “school spirit”.
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 GO🔥!
We’re tired, but we’re still showing up. We’re limping, but still laughing about it. We’re anxious, but still doing our best.
University isn’t shaping us into better people. We’re shaping ourselves quietly, stubbornly, in between the chaos.
And honestly? That’s enough. 💌
