Academic Failure Due to Mental Illness - Clean Slate?

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I graduated from high school in 2002 by the skin of my teeth. In late 2001 as I started my senior year, my panic disorder worsened. Daily panic attacks at school took their toll and by winter break, I broke down and left school. Fortunately for me I was able to apply for Correspondence and continued my senior year from home. The feeling of relief was quickly replaced by a despairing depression as I sat at home while my friends were busy with school, enjoying their status as seniors, planning for prom and after prom celebrations at Whistler and of course graduation and prepping for colleges or universities.

I barely graduated. I dropped every course that wasn't a graduation requirement, leaving me with only two courses; English and Biology. I passed English easily but failed Biology because the Provincial Exam was held at my old high school. I freaked out about ten minutes into the exam and wanted to leave but the invigilator would not allow me. No one was allowed to leave the exam room within the first half hour. I panicked. I couldn't concentrate on the exam questions. I couldn't even breathe, I was so desperate to get the hell out of there. Luckily, the invigilator seemed to understand what was happening to me and she talked me through some deep breathing until she could officially allow me to leave. It was the longest twenty minutes of my life. With my friends and others looking over at me, thinking hell knows what.

That exam was worth 30% of my grade and even though I had a B in Biology, failing the exam brought my grade down to a D or whatever the equivalent is of a final grade of 51%.

I made it to my prom (somehow) but not my graduation. After graduation things went from bad to I'm-so-disgusted-with-myself-I-wanna-die bad.

I spent the summer after graduation in therapy (which started back in grade 10) but worsening panic attacks resulted in avoidance which turned into full on agoraphobia. I didn't leave the house in over a year.

I was finally able to attend college in the fall of 2004. Already two years behind my graduating class, I pushed myself so hard to catch up. I piled on 18, 21 credits per semester and didn't take breaks during the summer months. The anxiety and panic attacks were still a major issue. I couldn't concentrate on the lectures in class because I spent the entire time fighting back the rising swells of panic. Sitting through an entire lecture was an accomplishment of the highest order for me but instead of concentrating on the positive I derided myself for being weak, crazy and intellectually dumb.

Taking on so many units, trying to prove I was like everyone else, backfired. I failed miserably. Failed more courses than I passed and had numerous unsuccessful semesters, was placed on academic probation. The Registrar even got involved, telling me she had been keeping her eye on me, so to speak, and after two semesters of me taking on a huge course load and being unsuccessful, she banned me from taking more than three courses at a time.

But it didn't help. I was going downhill fast but refused to acknowledge that I just could not crack it at school. I had something to prove. To myself. To my immigrant parents. To everyone who expected so much from me. I was the smart one. The one who loved school and academics. Who wanted to go all the way up to a PhD.

By the time I left school in 2008, I had graduated with a worthless Associate's Degree in General Studies that took four bloody years, a 1.67 GPA and about $40,000 in student loan debt. Most of the debt was not for tuition but for living expenses as my parents couldn't make ends meet without my contribution to the household.

It was a complete waste of time and money. I couldn't work even if I wanted to. I couldn't go back to school either. Not financially, as the government had basically cut me off due to so many withdrawals. It didn't matter that I had a mental health disorder. You only get three chances. After that you're on your own. I couldn't even do it mentally nor could I physically attend classes.

I wish I could wipe the slate clean and start again. That shitty degree is actually a hindrance to further education. It will follow me. Wherever I apply, that shitty GPA will disqualify me from any decent university.

The bottom line (money, bloody money) is what matters. There is no incentive for individuals struggling with mental health issues to persevere. Three strikes and you're out. And you can't even pay off your student loans because you can't get a job. And if you could get some shitty minimum wage job it would probably take you 50 years to pay it off but the maximum in Canada is sixteen. And you can't even file for bankruptcy for at least 5 years. It used to be 10. If you can get your loan forgiven, you will never again be allowed to take out another one. The whole thing is just fucked up.

So without funding, there is no way I will be able to pay for it myself. I can barely get by with my disability benefit and part time job. There is nothing left over to put aside.

It depresses the hell out of me. It's just fucking money. But higher education is a business. It's not a right. It fucking should be.

Unless I win the lottery or the book I'm writing becomes a bestseller (the odds of that happening probably no better than winning the jackpot), I will never get my degree.