[ WP ] You receive a second chance at something that has haunted you your entire life .

A maxed out credit card, chlamydia, and a free week's stay at the finest hospital in the city. I was expecting to acquire something a little bit different by applying to grad school. Now, those two words, *grad school, * make my brain twitch every time they're mentioned. 
 ________________________ 
 
 I applied to do a Master's of Social Work three years ago to further my professional career. As a social worker, I thought I had learned enough from my profession to take care of myself while undertaking a stressful graduate education. I was going to exercise, I was going to eat right, I was going to take time away from my studies each week to be social and develop healthy relationships. I was going to do everything right. 
 
 I ended up doing everything wrong. Three months into my program, I was studying 13 hours a day, I started smoking again, I was eating microwave dinners or not eating at all, and I made zero attempts to socialize. I drank a cup of vodka at night to get to sleep and relieve me from the anxiety that filled up like a reservoir every day. On top of it all, I was depressed. I regretted applying to grad school and trying to fulfill some kind of life that was expected of me, but that I knew I was n't 100 % committed to in my heart. Everyday I wished for an earthquake so that my coastal university would either crumble or get destroyed by a tsunami. There was no way out, I was stuck waist-deep into the program. 
 
 I started cutting myself. The cup of vodka turned into a large mug of vodka ( I was too broke to buy glasses ). Sleep became a unicorn that I could only fantasize about. On one particularly stressful week, filled with exams, presentations, and two major essays due, I decided to reward myself for excelling and accomplishing all that I had that week. I celebrated by finishing my entire bottle of vodka, mixed with a can of frozen orange juice I've been saving. I deserved it. I needed an escape. Ask and ye shall receive. 
 _________________________ 
 `` Where am I?'' I asked as I opened my eyes, noticing the blinding sterile lights on the white-washed ceiling. 
 
 `` At the Frentin Hospital.'' A nurse replied smiling, appearing delighted that I had finally woken. It was relayed to me that I went on a full-blown alcohol-induced manic episode that lasted several days. I remember fragments of it, I remember a dark and sweaty night club, someone's dingy apartment, lots of white powder dusted on a coffee table somewhere. I remember looking beside my hospital bed to see my lacey red bra and black dress, my sultry special. 
 
 _________________________ 
 
 I was eventually diagnosed as Bipolar I. The stress from school, the poor self-care, and the neglect and abuse of my body, all snowballed into a terrifying manic episode. After withdrawing from grad school, and after years of treatment and therapy, I started putting the pieces of my life back together. 
 
 I am happy now. I'm volunteering twice a week at a shelter for vulnerable women, and working as a barista. Things are slow, but they're improving. The staff at the women's shelter appreciate my diligent efforts, and are receptive to the knowledge I have of women living in poverty, specifically about barriers in the social service systems. 
 
 Yesterday, one of the managers of the shelter was impressed by my devotion to their cause and drive for social justice. She approached me, `` Francine, you're one of the best volunteers we've had at the shelter, and you have so much potential to do more. I know someone at the university in the social work department that partners with us and regularly does research with our organization. I would love to put you in contact with her, you both focus on very similar areas. Have you ever thought about grad school?'' My face twitched. 

