Years had passed since our university days. It felt like just yesterday when we sat for our final exam, a moment filled with a mix of relief, excitement, and nostalgia. My friends and I had spent years together, building memories that would last a lifetime. But now, as we prepared to leave, we clung to those moments, knowing that life was about to take us in different directions.
After completing our last paper, we gathered one final time, our faces beaming with joy as we celebrated this milestone. Laughter echoed as we reminisced about the past, capturing the moment in countless pictures. That night, we ended up at a lounge—one of our friends was celebrating her birthday, and with Christmas just around the corner, it felt like the perfect farewell.
December 23, 2019. A night of celebration. A night of goodbyes.
The next morning, we all traveled back to our families, each of us heading to different cities, different futures. Even after parting ways, we kept in touch, checking in on one another, sharing the little victories and struggles of life after college. But for some of us, the journey wasn't quite over. A few still had their final-year projects to complete, and soon, we found ourselves back at school to wrap up what was left.
A New Path
Life truly begins when education ends—or so they say. Once my university days were officially behind me, I returned home, uncertain but eager to plan my next steps. That's when a friend introduced me to software engineering.
He had been learning C# and backend development, immersing himself in a world I knew little about. Passionate and full of conviction, he explained the endless possibilities, the skills required, and the time investment needed. Though I had studied civil engineering and he came from a building technology background, I found myself drawn to it.
With his guidance, I started learning the basics, exploring programming concepts, and taking online courses. Eventually, an opportunity arose—an intensive training program where we could be mentored by experienced developers. The only catch? The hub was in another city, far from home.
Thankfully, a senior colleague from university offered us a place to stay. He was already a full-stack developer and made our transition easier by providing shelter. However, expenses like feeding and transportation were entirely up to us. Despite the struggles, he became a great mentor, emphasizing the dedication and consistency needed to excel in software development. He had secured a remote job, something I now aspired to achieve.
And so, my journey into software engineering began.
The Struggle Begins
The training program lasted eight months, and by the fourth month, I had already learned so much. Each day was a mix of excitement and exhaustion as we dived deeper into coding. But one challenge remained—I hadn't completed my tuition payment.
Before the program began, we were required to pay 40% upfront, with the remaining balance due before completion. By the fifth month, I had yet to make another payment, and the pressure started to build. We were advancing into more complex topics, moving closer to real-world projects, yet I had no means of settling my debt.
By the sixth month, the pressure became unbearable. The management made it clear—without full payment, I might not be able to complete the program. Desperate, I reached out to friends, hoping to gather enough to stay afloat. Eventually, I managed to scrape together just 50% of the total fee.
Luckily, the hub was lenient. Perhaps they saw my determination, or maybe they had simply grown used to my excuses. Whatever the case, I was allowed to continue, though I knew time was running out.
As we entered the seventh month, our focus shifted to final projects. Each of us was assigned a task, and for the first time, I felt like I was creating something meaningful. My excitement grew as I mapped out my plan, coding late into the night, pushing myself beyond my limits.
Then, just when things seemed to be falling into place, everything crumbled.
The Breaking Point
My laptop—the one tool I depended on—began showing signs of failure. At first, it was minor: lagging, occasional crashes, random restarts. I ignored it, hoping it was just a small issue. But within weeks, it completely broke down.
I was shattered.
At that moment, it wasn't just about a faulty laptop. It was about everything I had been struggling with—tuition fees, survival, the weight of uncertainty. Now, without my laptop, how could I continue? How could I finish my project, prove my worth, and chase the future I had envisioned?
Life had never felt more unfair.
Days turned into weeks, and still, I couldn't find a solution. My presence at the hub became less frequent. I felt stuck, unable to move forward, watching helplessly as time slipped away. The financial burden weighed heavily on me, and by the eighth month, I had to stop attending altogether.
It wasn't just the money. It was everything.
To make matters worse, the senior colleague who had accommodated me was preparing to relocate. His rent was due, and he had decided to move elsewhere. That meant my friend and I would soon have nowhere to stay. The realization hit me hard—life was unraveling faster than I could hold it together.
I felt trapped.
Each passing day chipped away at my resolve, and soon, I found myself sinking into a dark place. My thoughts became clouded with doubt, fear, and hopelessness. I couldn't think straight. The dreams I had once chased so eagerly now felt distant, almost unreachable.
And then came the silence—the kind that weighed on my chest, making it hard to breathe.
I started having strange thoughts, ones I had never entertained before.
Was this it?
Was this how my journey ended?
I was lost, drowning in my own mind, desperate for a way out.