I've never felt more like a statistic. In the eight months since I've been a University of Minnesota transfer student I've had nothing but trouble. There has been much weeping and gnashing of teeth. As it turns out, it probably couldn't have been any other way.
The University of Minnesota
closed it's general college back in 2005. I remember hearing about it at the time, but not caring. I was an administrative professional in the not-for-profit sector with only vague notions of returning to school. When I finally did take the plunge, I didn't for one second think about the GC. In fact, the first place I thought of was the Minneapolis Community and Technical College in Loring Park. I wasn't sure about where I'd wind up, but MCTC seemed like a great place to get my lower-division ducks in a row without having to take on $20,000 in debt.
MCTC was great. The liberal arts classes may have been mealy-mouthed and easy to bullshit, but MCTC's physics and math departments offered formidable challenges. I stayed on for two years tackling the basics. I took college algebra through calculus II, and both college-level physics courses. On to glory.
I wasn't sure what I wanted to major in, but I knew I'd be happy studying physics, computer science, or mathematics. I love all three subjects, and I was delighted to learn that I had been accepted to the University of Minnesota's Institute of Technology on a free tuition program.
But bad times were fast to come. I flip-flopped my major a few times my first semester, and wisely withdrew from two physics classes early last fall when it became clear that I didn't know what in the name of Moses the professors at the U were talking about. Even the students in my study groups seemed to be at least a year ahead of me.
I remember wondering how that could be possible, because I had just taken three semesters of physics at MCTC, with all A's. In fact, I took the highest physics courses that MCTC has to offer. Something was amiss. There literally were no physics classes to take between the ones I completed at MCTC and the ones I was taking on at the U. How could I be so far behind? That's when the tears of frustration began. That's right, it takes a real man to cry in a physics class.
So my next choice was computer science. In the meantime I was limping along in multivariable calculus, but doing OK. I got through the fall semester with two W's, a B+, and a C. Not great, but I was still in the game.
On to spring.
The same problem I had in those two physics courses last fall came back with a vengeance in a little course called discrete math, a must for all computer science majors. I did OK for the first month, just long enough to get past the withdrawal deadline, before the wheels completely came flying off the wagon. After six weeks I understood about 45% of the material, after nine weeks it was down to 30%. Other students seemed to be having a hard time too, but they post the grades online; most students were doing just fine. Meanwhile, we were covering the material at break-neck speeds, and my other classes demanded equal time.
After talking all this over with a university therapist (it was recommended after I had what one doctor described as a "panic attack"), it turns out that my situation is not at all uncommon. In a way I was lulled into a false sense of accomplishment at MCTC. I was on the Dean's List, I was a member of an honor society, and my GPA was well north of 3.6. Then I came to the U and literally had my ass handed to me.
The stress levels have been in the red ever since I set foot on the U campus, and I'm not making much progress in the way of a degree. One full academic year at the Institute of Technology should yield eight, or at least six solid classes. I have four. I'm in no rush to completely blame the disconnect between the two schools for my predicament, but it's tempting.
My personal life is somehow still OK. The challenges I'm facing thankfully haven't affected my relationships with my family. Yet. It's the times alone that are awful. There is an overwhelming sense of crushing pressure at all times of the day and night. The temptation to bail is almost beyond control. My neck, shoulders, and upper back are now made of steel. I break down into fits of sobbing every week, and I'm seeing a school therapist. It's humiliating beyond description.
It's been at least a month now since this has become a quality of life issue. But where do I turn? The TA's ask my favorite question when I come to them with bleeding eyeballs: "What part don't you understand?" Meanwhile, six other students are waiting for their turn, and the TA's have office hours that make a part-time receptionist position look challenging. Oh, we're done? Our time is up?
So is my patience.
Last year I began downloading, song by song, as much of Coil's discography as I could. As important as their older recordings are, I found myself more drawn to Coil's releases that came after Love's Secret Domain, arguably their best album. I really paid attention to their recent releases, as they only seemed to get better and better. 
