Kat's Poetry Pile

Act V: PChem

content warning: suicidal ideation

physical chemistry
is a subject that many
chem majors dread.
because it's the intersection
rigorous mathematics

with observational evidence
and somewhere on that bleeding edge
several pioneers of the field
would take their own lives

so one must tread carefully

Quantum mechanics was fine.
not great, not terrible, and
I ended with an A-
which was good enough
for me.

Taken simultaneously with instrumental analysis
it was fun, although quite stressful
i was in the zone, and intensely focused
i understood what was happening
and i was looking forward

to the next semester
Physical Chemistry II: Thermodynamics and Statistical Mechanics
and Physical Chemistry Laboratory
alongside inorganic chemistry
i was not ready for the storm ahead

at some point i started to fall apart
i stopped showing up to class
pulled one-too-many all-nighters
and fell into a deep melancholy
that would utterly destroy me.

i did so well in inorganic chemistry
until it all collapsed
and that's when i realized
i couldn't be the academic weapon
i wanted to be, and i would have

to settle for less.
but less is still more than none.
i couldn't dig my way out of this hole
and find gold at the same time

all of this happening

while i was in physical agony still
recovering from my back injury
and residual mold poisoning
so miserable i longed for death
and began to slowly rot away

i held it together
only barely
standing on the knife's edge
the last i felt this way
was from severe, untreated dysphoria

i was going to lose it all
only held together by
my technican job (and subsequent paycheck)
my class about scientific discoveries and the hope of night vision

waiting for me in the long quiet
so i chose to live.
i ignored the cyanide bottle
and pushed forward
one day at a time

everything was falling apart
i couldn't see the next day,
much less a future
i tortured my lab partner
with panicked calls at 3 AM

asking for data
and making shit up
somehow getting an A in
PChem lab, entirely
undeserved.

but I made it out alive.

[go back to the root poem]