My Third Mental Breakdown in Two Years.

In the two years that I have been a college student, I have had only three mental breakdowns.

The first one occurred in my very first semester, when I was trying to get into the swing of things. I had had this complete and utter fucktwit of an English professor who loved it when people gave the wrong answers because for him, that was a perfect excuse for him to rip into those people like they were one of those pig corpses on Deadliest Warrior. Anyway, the day after that, I remember being so overwhelmed by the pressure that I ended up missing my last class of the day.

The second mental breakdown I had was last semester, when I was taking a Photojournalism class (it was only a month in when I realized that my talents were in writing, not pictures, but I digress). The professor who taught that particular class was a total dick as well, but it was his last semester teaching, so I guess I could understand where he came from. He was such a dick that he spent an hour and a half giving a lesson on the iPad and all the fancy-schmancy shit it came with. But what really rates him high on the dick scale was the way he ripped into people's pictures as well, like they didn't meet his standards of photography. Needless to say, I relinquished my mother's camera to her the last day of classes and devoted myself to writing from here on out.

The third mental breakdown took place last summer, when I took this class called "Human and the Divine." How the fuck was I supposed to know that "the divine" meant "the divine Lord?" Anyway, this professor was attentive and precise, but the way he graded was so harsh! I remember having the worst crying jags during class time, all because I wasn't as religiously insightful (if that's even a phrase). How I passed that class with a C-, I will never know.

These mental breakdowns taught me one lesson: stay away from teachers who are in their last semesters of teaching. They may be douches when it comes to grading.