u/Cold_Death_64

I just completed my admission application for BSCS in FAST Lahore and before that, my final A-Level exams. The recent negative posts about this uni really irk me since this is my first preference and I really do feel excited to come study here.

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So, I've decided to start studying a little bit beforehand to help offload the high pressure I'll probably have to deal with.

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I started studying PF using all the lecture slides and notes I found and I'm done with the rough Week 1 schedule. Now, this might just be my ignorance but it doesn't seem too bad for now. Of course, I can say this only because I'm not in the stressful environment of the university yet.

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What I'm curious about is if my background will help me more than I thought it would. Having learned CS in both igcse and a-levels with a heavy liking for the pseudocode questions and also having learned python independently for three years now with some simple projects under my belt, the only new thing I'll be learning (according to the course outlines I found) will be the syntax of C++ and mechanism pointers within the language. I love CS regardless though so I'll be diligently grinding.

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Anyways, should I be concerned about PF or focus more on calculus as I've heard that's difficult as well?

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Thank you for coming to my rant.

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TW: SH, suicidal thoughts, descriptions of some injuries, etc.

I don't know where else to let out the gunk rotting in my mind but here seems alright. I posted to another place but that didn't seem to take this well, I don't know. I'll articulate it nice enough, I suppose.

I turned eighteen recently. I'm the youngest child by many years. I was not a mistake child but I did cause a lot of suffering to my mother. She lost more blood than her body had. It was one of the worst cases the doctors had witnessed till this day. Worst part of it was, she was at an age where it added to her complications. I do not judge my parents for it. They'd wanted and been trying for a girl for ages. A decade, for context.

I simply wished it hadn't been me. I don't know where I signed up for this, for living in general. I know my life is great by many standards and I agree. But I can't find it in me to cherish it as much as one should.

I won't go into a lot of detail, of course. But to give you some context, I was bullied throughout school. I changed schools twice. Bullied in every single one. Why? I used to cry a lot. People liked making me cry a lot. They'd have competitions to see who could make me cry more. They'd befriend me for a few days and then suddenly break it off simply to see me get hurt and cry because of it. I was a stupid child, to be fair, I'd go back to them the same all over again.

The constants I had in my life were books and teachers and my mom. And because I liked books, I liked studying so I started topping my classes. That only worsened the bullying. And then around fourteen years of age, I changed schools again. This time, I desperately wanted friends who wouldn't bully or leave me behind. I got my wish for a few weeks. I neglected my studies just to hang out with said friends. I flunked school really badly in the first month. And then I had a falling out with said friends.

And then I was ostracized by the entire class. That's when things worsened. Oh, I skipped a detail. Back in the old school, at maybe 12 y.o, I'd wish not to go to school because I knew I'd get bullied. So I started trying to make excuses. Fake sickness. That didn't work. So I thought I should make myself actually sick. I tried doing a bunch of things to develop a fever. But nothing worked. So I had another solution. I hit my head repeatedly against the marble wall of our bathroom, trying to get a minor head injury or something of the like. I don't like thinking of that time but it is contextually important. How I came across doing that is also a long story but let's just say I'd seen a loved one.. SH.

I'd scaredly and hesitantly hit my head, thinking it might work. It didn't because it was a blunt surface, and I repeated the actions with moderate force. My forehead swelled up a few times. I never told anyone else. Just showed my mom and said I hit my head on the sink or someplace else. It didn't get me out of school.

Now, back to new school, with me freshly ostracized. No one would talk to me except teachers. And I was so paranoid in class, everytime someone spoke or whispered, I'd feel like they were talking about me. In recess and lunch, I'd be the only one staying behind in class. I don't remember much about that time, honestly. I just remember wanting everything to stop. So during lunch or recess, I'd sit in my seat and try to hit my head against the corner of the seat in front in order to get the head injury I'd always wanted.

Again, it never worked. Instead, I'd cry and hyperventilate until I got warm enough for it to be considered a fever and sometimes left alone. Then, I did something I've never done again till now. In order to avoid school, when I was getting dressed in the morning and my mom was away for a moment, I slipped into the kitchen and grabbed a knife and tried to slice my scalp a little. A small enough cut but big enough to bleed and be considered an injury instead of a scratch. I tried again and again but my skin never got cut. I went to school like normal. Things progressed as they did.

A year flashed by and I actually started getting along with other people in the class who were unrelated to the 'friends' from before. A lot of stuff happened but I got my studies back and some actually good friends that I talk with to this day. They don't know about the SH though. At least not seriously.

But when I got friends, things at home took a turn for the worse. My relation with my father got strained. I started feeling like I wasn't his daughter anymore but a freeloader. My other siblings had their own lives that I wasn't a part of and my mom started falling apart because she had no support system. So I tried to be there for her like she had always been for me. And I don't know, our family dynamics got messy and everything. And I developed a new habit. I started biting myself. On my wrist or forearms. And then when things got even worse, I started choking myself.

I can't remember much of that either, honestly. I just remember sitting in my washroom floor choking myself. I didn't plan anything, or didn't want to end things. I just wanted something, some peace, some quiet, some rest for my eyes. And then I started wanting to end things. That scared me. Looking at ropes or ribbons and seeing a noose. Wondering the best ways to use the knives. And then I graduated high school with good enough grades. My family got better. My father was happy enough with me for once.

I think everything stopped then, everything got better then. During the first year in college, I fully neglected my studies because all I wanted were friends. I wanted to meet people, laugh, have fun and hang out. I wanted to escape my home and escape studies and everything. It went okay. I had fun with friends. I love that year. And then the second year came around, I got sick. I got one disease after another. I neglected my studies even more, but I still got good enough grades internally. But then I didn't get good final grades. And it was a blow to me because my father was so extremely disappointed I didn't know how to look at myself.

I sat the exams again, and improved my grades. And then, I needed to take an external exam as well so I prepared really well for that. But my anxiety got the better of me and I didn't do well in that exam. That was a month ago. After that, I just blanked. A month went by and I couldn't study, couldn't talk to my friends. And now I have finals again, and I'm going to fail miserably and I've been trying to study but I can't. I just keep crying, feeling overwhelmed.

And my thoughts are going back to that place. That place of SH. And it scares me even more now because I genuinely don't want to do this anymore. I want to escape. I don't want to be an incompetent, disappointment who's good for nothing. I can't shut up this crying and whining, I can't suck it up this time and study. And I got new medicine for one of my conditions which is adding to my anxiety and such. I just want to be swallowed whole.

I'm sorry for wasting your time with my ranting. Please ignore if anything upsets, perturbs or disturbs you in any way. I know I'm being ignorant and ungrateful on my part since this is purely my pov of things. I apologize for that.

Thank you for reading.

TW: SH, suicidal thoughts, descriptions of some injuries, etc.

I don't know where else to let out the gunk rotting in my mind but here seems alright. Maybe. I'll articulate it nice enough, I suppose.

I turned eighteen recently. I'm the youngest child by many years. I was not a mistake child but I did cause a lot of suffering to my mother. She lost more blood than her body had. It was one of the worst cases the doctors had witnessed till this day. Worst part of it was, she was at an age where it added to her complications. I do not judge my parents for it. They'd wanted and been trying for a girl for ages. A decade, for context.

I simply wished it hadn't been me. I don't know where I signed up for this, for living in general. I know my life is great by many standards and I agree. But I can't find it in me to cherish it as much as one should.

I won't go into a lot of detail, of course. But to give you some context, I was bullied throughout school. I changed schools twice. Bullied in every single one. Why? I used to cry a lot. People liked making me cry a lot. They'd have competitions to see who could make me cry more. They'd befriend me for a few days and then suddenly break it off simply to see me get hurt and cry because of it. I was a stupid child, to be fair, I'd go back to them the same all over again.

The constants I had in my life were books and teachers and my mom. And because I liked books, I liked studying so I started topping my classes. That only worsened the bullying. And then around fourteen years of age, I changed schools again. This time, I desperately wanted friends who wouldn't bully or leave me behind. I got my wish for a few weeks. I neglected my studies just to hang out with said friends. I flunked school really badly in the first month. And then I had a falling out with said friends.

And then I was ostracized by the entire class. That's when things worsened. Oh, I skipped a detail. Back in the old school, at maybe 12 y.o, I'd wish not to go to school because I knew I'd get bullied. So I started trying to make excuses. Fake sickness. That didn't work. So I thought I should make myself actually sick. I tried doing a bunch of things to develop a fever. But nothing worked. So I had another solution. I hit my head repeatedly against the marble wall of our bathroom, trying to get a minor head injury or something of the like. I don't like thinking of that time but it is contextually important. How I came across doing that is also a long story but let's just say I'd seen a loved one.. SH.

I'd scaredly and hesitantly hit my head, thinking it might work. It didn't because it was a blunt surface, and I repeated the actions with moderate force. My forehead swelled up a few times. I never told anyone else. Just showed my mom and said I hit my head on the sink or someplace else. It didn't get me out of school.

Now, back to new school, with me freshly ostracized. No one would talk to me except teachers. And I was so paranoid in class, everytime someone spoke or whispered, I'd feel like they were talking about me. In recess and lunch, I'd be the only one staying behind in class. I don't remember much about that time, honestly. I just remember wanting everything to stop. So during lunch or recess, I'd sit in my seat and try to hit my head against the corner of the seat in front in order to get the head injury I'd always wanted.

Again, it never worked. Instead, I'd cry and hyperventilate until I got warm enough for it to be considered a fever and sometimes left alone. Then, I did something I've never done again till now. In order to avoid school, when I was getting dressed in the morning and my mom was away for a moment, I slipped into the kitchen and grabbed a knife and tried to slice my scalp a little. A small enough cut but big enough to bleed and be considered an injury instead of a scratch. I tried again and again but my skin never got cut. I went to school like normal. Things progressed as they did.

A year flashed by and I actually started getting along with other people in the class who were unrelated to the 'friends' from before. A lot of stuff happened but I got my studies back and some actually good friends that I talk with to this day. They don't know about the SH though. At least not seriously.

But when I got friends, things at home took a turn for the worse. My relation with my father got strained. I started feeling like I wasn't his daughter anymore but a freeloader. My other siblings had their own lives that I wasn't a part of and my mom started falling apart because she had no support system. So I tried to be there for her like she had always been for me. And I don't know, our family dynamics got messy and everything. And I developed a new habit. I started biting myself. On my wrist or forearms. And then when things got even worse, I started choking myself.

I can't remember much of that either, honestly. I just remember sitting in my washroom floor choking myself. I didn't plan anything, or didn't want to end things. I just wanted something, some peace, some quiet, some rest for my eyes. And then I started wanting to end things. That scared me. Looking at ropes or ribbons and seeing a noose. Wondering the best ways to use the knives. And then I graduated high school with good enough grades. My family got better. My father was happy enough with me for once.

I think everything stopped then, everything got better then. During the first year in college, I fully neglected my studies because all I wanted were friends. I wanted to meet people, laugh, have fun and hang out. I wanted to escape my home and escape studies and everything. It went okay. I had fun with friends. I love that year. And then the second year came around, I got sick. I got one disease after another. I neglected my studies even more, but I still got good enough grades internally. But then I didn't get good final grades. And it was a blow to me because my father was so extremely disappointed I didn't know how to look at myself.

I sat the exams again, and improved my grades. And then, I needed to take an external exam as well so I prepared really well for that. But my anxiety got the better of me and I didn't do well in that exam. That was a month ago. After that, I just blanked. A month went by and I couldn't study, couldn't talk to my friends. And now I have finals again, and I'm going to fail miserably and I've been trying to study but I can't. I just keep crying, feeling overwhelmed.

And my thoughts are going back to that place. That place of SH. And it scares me even more now because I genuinely don't want to do this anymore. I want to escape. I don't want to be an incompetent, disappointment who's good for nothing. I can't shut up this crying and whining, I can't suck it up this time and study. And I got new medicine for one of my conditions which is adding to my anxiety and such. I just want to be swallowed whole. I'm scared that the lack of life doesn't scare me, only the possible lack of peace after that does.

I'm sorry for wasting your time with my ranting. Please ignore if anything upsets, perturbs or disturbs you in any way. I know I'm being ignorant and ungrateful on my part since this is purely my pov of things. I apologize for that.

Thank you for reading.

I know this is gonna be an unpopular opinion and I know I'm being more emotional than rational right now but I feel like Cambridge should just postpone the May/June session by a month for region 2. I know it's far-fetched and totally crazy but I'm just so tired. Every other exam is getting licked and it's clear things are just so much worse this year. The students' mental health is clearly getting affected badly, me included. I have little to no motivation to study—and I love studying on any day.

Here's my rationale:

I know Cambridge is investigating the source but until now, the keals are clearly just doubling down. It's clear Cambridge's efforts aren't working. By the time they find the people and stop them, we'd be done with most of our exams and a good majority of those being licked. What will happen then? Retakes? Lack of acknowledgement from Cambridge? Students will suffer either way. Instead of having to go through that, postpone the exams for a month. Investigate vigorously for the sources of the licks, identify them, get them detained or jailed or anything and then reconduct the exams properly without having students suffer as much. And if licks keep on after that, that's just our sign to properly and fully give up on Cambridge. Either way, at this stage, most of the students (since most students take math) are giving part of their June away already. Also, without the source identified properly, even the retakes might get licked.

So, there you go. That's one thought I had.

Feel free to ignore if you disagree.