Losing, Doesn’t Mean Lost

Quote: "You have learned something. That always feels as if you have lost something." H.G. Wells

I haven’t written in months and after my break, nearly every entry I wrote has been vague. I apologize. Here’s the short version of what has happened over the past few months.

My first semester away at school, a year ago now, I got an alcohol violation in an on campus apartment. We all had to go to court and it was pretty terrible. It resulted in me being on housing probation for a year and then, it went away.

This year, I was living in dry on campus apartments. On October 29th, Halloween weekend, I went to the apartment next door to pre game for a party. We were being quiet, music wasn’t loud, no one was even drunk. The last guy to enter had apparently not hidden the alcohol he was holding very well because an RA had spotted him. The police were called and the RA’s knocked on the door. They found the alcohol he had brought as well as what was already in the apartment. Every person there was written up.

It took almost a month, but they eventually told me I would have to move out of my apartment and into traditional housing (a dorm) which meant all new roommates. Because I work for residential education, my job was in jeopardy. I had a hearing where I had to fight for my job and by the grace of God, I am allowed to keep it. I’ll be on probation until April. I have to produce a 20 minute presentation about the dangers of alcohol and create a poster for alcohol awareness to be hung around on campus. I was also required to attend 2-3 therapy sessions with Counseling and Pyschological Services, which I have already completed.

The other bad part? Because Lindsay, my current girlfriend, was present when all of this happened she is no longer allowed on campus. Since I will be moving to a traditional dorm, I can’t even sneak her in as she has to produce an ID at the desk to enter the building. 

All in all? Things could be worse.

Having to tell my parents about all of this sucked. I hated that I disappointed them. It was even worse because my father knew about the first incident and my mother didn’t. It caused some tension, to say the least.

We’re moving on.

The semester from hell is coming to a close. I’m only a few finals away from freedom. I couldn’t be happier about it.

I may have lost my apartment and lost the appeal when I fought against the decision, but I still have plenty going for me. I’ve got a girlfriend who cares about me. A family who supports me. Friends who will fight for me. A major that I love and new roommates I can get to know. What’s in the past, is in the past. I will learn from it and move on.

It’s not like I have a choice.