In 2009, a youthful, eager spirit stepped onto the grounds of the prestigious Coventry University, and thus began a journey that was as thrilling as it was challenging. That eager young person was myself. Embarking on a university degree is a momentous life chapter filled with excitement, dreams, and anticipation of what the future holds. With eyes set on the horizon I had not only started my academic studies, but also came to know and savour the adrenaline-filled experience of working at the global pizza chain, Domino's. It wasn't only about the freshly baked pizzas per se; it was more about crafting an interesting time-lapse movie that documented the whole pizza making process in minutes. This path, however, was not without its challenges and life lessons. 

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It is said, "Life is a journey with problems to solve and lessons to learn but most of all, experiences to enjoy." My journey, filled with dreams, decisions and life lessons, was laced with experiences that have molded me into the person I am today.

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Every journey has its ups and downs. As mine continued, so did encounters with not-so-pleasant experiences, as was my experience in Portinaxt, Ibiza. Lulled into a false sense of security by two scheming Welsh girls, this dream holiday turned into a nightmare.

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 This story, however, is not one of despair, but rather, one of resilience and determination. My journey through these challenging times, as rocky as the Ibiza landscape, ultimately led to the successful completion of my very own degree at Coventry University.

 

University is a significant milestone, one filled with anticipation and unknowns. When I embarked on this journey in 2009, I found myself in an incessant reverie of the people I would meet and the experiences I would undergo. My first home was Trinity Point, and the rush of feelings I experienced as I arrived at the gates was overwhelming. Often, I tend to over-analyze scenarios to the point where the event in actuality is fleeting, and this was no different. 

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After I got acquainted with my new surroundings, self-doubt creeped in. The upcoming encounter with the unfamiliar was unsettling. As a mature student, the fear of potentially not blending in with other students was prominent. However, to my surprise, there were plenty of students alike, and everyone turned out to be genuinely pleasant and accepting. Although the journey wasn't filled with developing deep-rooted friendships, it certainly left positive and enduring memories. 

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Every Wednesday, I'd find myself in the warm company of my aunt and uncle, Patricia and John Lucas. They'd often treat me to a meal at the Walsgrave Carvery along with their children - my beloved cousins, Katie and Scott. I'm deeply grateful for having such a forgiving and giving family. However, I've always yearned for friendships just as nurturing. Even to this day, my life seems void of friends. Building lasting relationships has always been a struggle for me, in good part because I fear being exploited as I've experienced before. As a result, I've erected formidable walls around me, effectively shutting out people. On reflection, this has led to a painful isolation with hardly anyone able to get close. I’m becoming increasingly aware of my knack for this wall-building. While it might be too late for me, I wish I wasn't this skilled at it.

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Regrettably, while studying and earning a bit on the side, I unknowingly overstepped the acceptable bounds of my permitted work conditions. A misunderstanding about the meaning of "part-time" had put me in thick soup, leading me to the Magistrates Court. It turns out part-time equated to no more than 16 hours a week. But there I was, often working about 20 hours weekly. An honest overshot, but no less a lapse that cost me thousands of pounds for benefits claimed erroneously. It boiled down to heedlessness on my part, failing to get clear-cut explanations on the dos and don'ts of my work permit. It may have taken a few years, but I repaid the money, accepting that it was the proper thing to do.

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Embarking on the first year of my studies at Coventry University's Art department, I found myself exploring Berlin on a course trip. This experience was unlike any other I'd had, peculiar yet thrilling. It was an eerie feeling, being in a place that witnessed one of the darkest chapters of human history - the Holocaust. Regardless of their past mistakes, the global community granted Germany a chance to pick up the pieces and move forward. But, the memories of those lost cannot be erased. It's unsettling to think that the German people knew about these atrocities yet remained silent. Being ignorant doesn't excuse one's complicity. The Holocaust was an enormous failure of humanity and it should never have transpired. Moreover, the Berlin wall stood as a testament to flawed solutions of the advanced world. I was merely a child when the barrier was dismantled by a unified populace. It's disappointing to think that such collective action wasn't sparked to end the Holocaust at its inception.

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Pursuing my studies at Coventry University in 2009, I dove headfirst into my practical assignments, despite the setback I faced with my lecture-based coursework. Despite diligently attending every session, I found myself often dozing off - an unfortunate side effect of my medication - which left me lagging behind my cohort. Yet, I perservered, tapping into a reservoir of determination I didn't realize I had. Coventry provided not only academic but also medical resources that were invaluable to my journey. The medical support I received was compassionate and comprehensive, providing a comforting assurance that my wellbeing was a priority. This was a silver lining on the heavy cloud that loomed over my social life. As an adolescent, I was a social butterfly – I thrived off interaction and was always at the heart of my friend group. But entering university, I found myself pulling away, receding into my shell. I blamed the medications initially, but in retrospect, it's likely a defense response, born from prolonged exposure to challenging environments. I've always found it easier to blockade myself from potential conflict by simply disappearing within metaphorical walls – it served me well in the past. However, the strategy that was once foolproof now seemed flawed. Although I lean on it heavily, I can't shake the feeling that it's time to reassess and adapt to a healthier coping mechanism.

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 In my second and third years at Coventry University, the ones that really mattered towards my degree, I was doing well. When summer rolled around, I decided to switch things up a bit from Domino's and got a job at Papa Johns in Harlow. I had heard good things about their pizzas and was curious to get a taste of how things were done there. Interestingly, the guy in charge had a somewhat shady operation going on, paying employees under the table, no pay slips or anything. I had a hunch he was hiding some illegitimate activities, perhaps employing people under illegal circumstances or maybe not reporting all the hours employees worked to keep their benefits intact. I kept my nose clean, tried to stay oblivious to it all until, ultimately, karma came calling and he had to divest of his business.

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I was eagerly awaiting my return to Coventry post-summer vacation, armed with the prospect of moving into a new apartment on Middleborough Road. It was a ground-floor flat, nestled in a converted Victorian building, equipped with my own kitchen and bathroom. I relished the delightful walks through the city center en route to my University. No doubt, I'm a people watcher who derives immense pleasure observing the daily lives of others. However, congested locales make me uncomfortable, triggering inexplicable anxiety. Perhaps, the loss of control over my environment starts panic brewing within me.

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Before I knew it, I found myself back in the familiar setting of Domino's, albeit with mixed feelings. My boss, Joden James or JJ, as he was popularly known, had a habit that I mistakenly thought I could resist. He smoked weed, a habit that seeped into my car and ultimately, my lifestyle. I had successfully abstained from it for quite some time, but was now finding myself drawn back to it, like a moth to a flame. JJ would frequently send me on errands to fetch his weed while I was out on deliveries, inadvertently introducing me to the dealers. It was a downhill spiral from there. I convinced myself that I could regulate it this time around, but alas, my impulsive nature got the better of me. The weed began to puppeteer me, with my need for it intensifying rapidly.

 

As an art student, I found Coventry to be an inexhaustible source of inspiration, and I would highly endorse it to any aspiring artist. The annual trips conducted by the Art Department are a veritable goldmine of knowledge that I suggest you capitalize on. During my second year, we visited Belgium, and while I spent the majority of the trip on my own, I attempted to mix and interact, but faltered. There was a noticeable age difference between me and the others which made me feel detached and out of place.

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In the major part of my sophomore year, I stayed on track with the curriculum despite a slight decrease in pace compared to my freshman year. Convincing myself that achieving a first-class degree was a bit out of my reach due to my writing challenges, I was nonetheless very optimistic about securing a second-class honors, upper division (2:1). I held onto this confidence steadfastly.

 

As part of my requisite coursework, I embarked on a film project, showcasing my work experience at Domino's in Coventry. Thanks to the green light from Joden James, the project steadily progressed, infused with the enthusiastic participation of fellow staff members. Within the scope of the film, I intended to visually illustrate the entire journey, from the order's inception to its dispatch. Ironically though, what I primarily overlooked to document was the delivery process, despite it being my primary role. 

 

Fascinatingly, the film was condensed from thirty minutes of capturing to just two. The footage, time-lapsed for maximal efficiency, was not absent of setbacks though. I grappled with a series of challenges ranging from technical issues with the university-borrowed camera to editing requests from the franchisee to eliminate sections that revealed the end-of-day cash counting process.

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Upon wrapping up the sophomore year, with most of my video project already in the can, I made the decision to spend my summer in Coventry. After all, I had the flat to myself, and a job on hand. It's an utterly different experience, being in Coventry during the holiday season; the lack of student populace certainly makes a stark difference. This city has made a remarkable recovery since World War II, transforming itself into an educational hub, witnessing some of the most significant growth in the post-war era due to its historical significance as the transportation production nucleus during the war.

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Much like the city of Coventry, which endured the ravages of war and then experienced a rebirth, life too, often mirrors this cyclic pattern. Severe blows and challenges appear, but invariably, life finds a way to bounce back and flourish. I was oblivious to the tumultuous time awaiting me and the whirlwind of changes that would soon envelop my life.

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Right before embarking on my final year, I opted for a unique field trip for some much-needed inspiration and chose the tranquil haven of Ibiza. Rather than succumbing to the island's infamous party scene, I decided to enjoy it all inclusive. Upon my arrival at the hotel, I had the misfortune of discovering that the excursions had closed for the season. However, I was full of resilience and started photographing the beautiful environment around me with a goal to compile detailed profiles from the images captured. On the eve of my second day, a pair of Welsh girls residing at the same hotel struck up a conversation with me and managed to convince me to venture into the bustling heart of San Antonio with them.

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After getting back to my hotel, I left my camera behind. However, I should've also left my phone and some cash, not realizing I was about to get tangled in a situation where I'd lose control over myself, let alone my belongings. I crossed paths with the girls at the bus stop, right as they were about to board. How I wish I had missed that bus! Once we reached San Antonio, the first phase of their deceptive plan took off, but it didn't succeed immediately. These seemingly naive girls hinted that we should withdraw cash. But, lucky for me, I was already prepared with my money. In schemes like this, it can often be difficult to see the truth until it's too late, and this was no exception. We moved onto visiting some bars, enjoying a few drinks before being suggested to try out another place. It was there, where the girls ran into a couple of young men who coincidentally decided to join us--at that time, I had no inclination that these men were part of their cunning plot. While we enjoyed our drinks, one of the girls took an unexpected action that left me benumbed. She splashed a strong alcoholic beverage in my eyes that had me blindsided momentarily. It was an intense experience, and tragically, that was when my drink got spiked.

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After uttering my profound apologies to the girl, a wave of sickness started washing over me. I was certain it wasn't inebriation; after all, I’d had only a few drinks. What transpired next, however, remains a blur. I woke up robbed of all my cash and phone, though thankfully, they spared my passport, sparing me the ensuing hassle. A scattered memory remains, of me sprawled on the ground, attempting to muster the strength to rise up, but to no avail.

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Following the incident, I somehow managed to hail a taxi. The driver later informed me that when he asked for payment, I nonsensically attempted to withdraw money from my passport as if it were an ATM. Further adding to the confusion, I was purportedly trying to insert my passport into an actual cashpoint. Upon return to my hotel, I was mistakenly trying to enter several guest rooms and had to be guided back to my own room. I hadn't consumed enough alcohol to warrant such behavior, leading to the inescapable conclusion that my drink must have been spiked. Without any proof though, there was little that could be done. Gratefully, my brother wired me some funds, allowing me to pay the cab fare and try to salvage the remainder of my holiday. Though, with limited funds and essentially restricted to my hotel, it was quite a challenge.

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It's tough to pin down how much of my unraveling was caused by my negative experiences in Ibiza. You see, once you've tricked yourself into believing everyone's out to sabotage you, you can't help but perceive threats that are merely figments of your imagination. It's safe to say that for the first time since leaving Runwell, I was headed towards a relapse and becoming increasingly unstable. My final year at university kicked off on a shaky note, and I'm beyond thankful that I managed to return home safely to my mom upon graduation. Things turned quite challenging, and I never mustered the courage to confide in anyone.

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Regardless of my bouncing check, I managed to partake in that year’s field trip to Paris, running on a tight budget. Though, realistically, given the hidden mental health challenges I was grappling with, the trip might not have been the best decision. At that point, perhaps there was a part of me resisting the reality of being unwell, thinking that if I didn't acknowledge it, it wouldn't be happening. I wanted to evade the label of illness at all cost. Returning from Paris was a harsh reality check, marking the countdown to the final exhibition for which I had no prepared work. Amidst my deteriorating mental state, I was fervently trying to convince myself that I could whip up screen prints themed around Coventry in time - a façade to mask my looming failure.

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As the final exhibition neared, my screen prints disintegrated, becoming a disappointing mess, and I found myself teetering on the brink of despair, dreading the embarrassment of failure. The strength of communication lies not solely in speaking, but in the art of conversation - a skill that I had yet to master. Consequently, the lack of intimate connections meant there was nobody who could lend a comforting ear. I was at my lowest ebb - contemplating ending my life. The loathing for my university journey was profound, and adding to this despondency was a deep sense of isolation, with not a single soul available for solace.

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Throughout my life, the concept of escape has been a recurring theme, tracing its roots back to my earliest memories. I recall a significant incident, during my time in primary school. It wasn't the first instance, yet it left a deep impression on me. Instead of paying attention to the morning lesson, I found myself busy crafting a letter to a girl in my school. However, my solitude was disrupted by the substitute teacher who caught me red-handed. His next course of action, which, years later, I still consider as uncalled for, was to read my confidential words aloud to the rest of the class, leading to my public embarrassment.

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Retrospectively, my reaction could certainly have been better. However, in the heat of the moment, I resources, hurling a chair across the classroom and directing it loosely towards the substitute teacher. Fueled by fury, I stormed out, abandoning the class.

 

Unbelievably, rather than heading home as would be expected, my intention veered towards a quest to find my dad. I found myself venturing along the A13 en route to his workplace. That day, fate seemed on my side, as I somehow escaped harm. In a hazardous encounter, I played with chance, crossing the A13 multiple times. Astonishingly, I found a sense of safety walking in the central reservation. Despite the clear dangers, not a single soul stopped to assist or even question why a child was navigating down the A13 - a road that remains a dual carriageway till this day.

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In retrospect, I didn't manage to reach my dad's workplace, falling short on that particular objective. Eventually, confusion overcame me - I simply couldn't locate my dad's office, and so, ended up retracing my steps back to mum. I finally returned home around 5 pm that evening without even realizing that the police had spent the entire day searching for me due to concerns about my safety. I believe this could have been an ideal time to acquire some mechanisms to manage my instinctive urge to flee during troubles, but such lessons didn't materialize. Instead, there was just relief wrapped around a hefty dose of gratitude that I came home after all. Running has been my instinctive response when circumstances become challenging. However, I also recognize deep down that escape provides no resolution to the underlying issues that trigger such distress in the first place.

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Struggling with setbacks? I can't claim to hold a magic remedy, but I discovered for myself that reaching out to someone can be a lifeline. My lifeboat was Graham Chorlton, an esteemed faculty member at Coventry University. I kept the details sparse, only confiding that I encountered some obstacles that left me feeling unable to finish my last year of studies. I hinted I might prefer a delay and a do-over for my final year. Though, in all honestly, had I opted for such a deferment, I likely would not have seen my coursework through to the end.

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It was thanks to Graham that I realized I had already completed my degree, and the final exhibition was merely a fancy flourish. He agreed with me to showcase Domino's The Movie as the central piece at the exhibition, marking a significant turning moment. Suddenly, I found myself looking at the world through a hopeful lens. In addition to this, recognition reached me as a disabled student, leading to provisions for a new Mac computer. They also prodded me to apply to a disability fund that ultimately blessed me with a generous monetary grant.

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My father utterly took me by surprise when he arranged for me to jet off to Thailand and spend an entire month commemorating my achievements. As you journey through life, even when the tide seems against you, always remember that joy isn't too far off — you just need to weather the storm. There came a point in my life where the intense pressure to earn my degree nearly drove me to my breaking point. Yet, in that dark period, the one thing that pulled me through was opening up about my struggles. My lifeline turned out to be as simple as sharing just how hard things had become for me. That was my salvation — thanks to Graham Chorlton.

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Leaving Coventry stirred up mixed emotions, but having a rental car to haul my few belongings was a lifesaver. I had sacrificed plenty, including my own car, but in return, I became a degree holder. Now, an incredibly deserved vacation lay ahead of me, bathing under the sun with my father and contemplating my incredible achievements. The future was starting to look bright again. To add to the miraculous, how I dodged being committed to a mental facility is beyond anyone's comprehension. That could have thrown me off my course, possibly even cost me my degree.

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The beauty of Thailand is truly breathtaking, with all the incredible sights my Dad introduced me to such as unique temples, a captivating crocodile zoo, secluded caves and enchanting waterfalls, not to mention the invigorating thermal springs. Taking a break from our routine lives is something we truly owe to ourselves, allowing us to discover and appreciate the vast beauty and mysteries that our planet, our home, offers. Only one thing ever manages to surpass my awe for the Earth's natural beauty - that's the way cultures leave their unique, indelible imprints and shape the aesthetics of our stunning world.

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Flying back from a month-long sojourn in Thailand, I found myself amidst the hustle and bustle of the 2012 games. With the flight practically desolate, I seized the opportunity to unwind and catch up on some much-needed sleep. Having successfully stayed clear from weed for a month, I was determined to continue on this path, especially since I was heading back to Harlow where I didn't have connections with any dealers. In all honesty, quitting weed isn't a Herculean task - it's primarily a game of will power, with the only real challenge being the psychological dependency.

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In my recovery, the fault lines of my resilience were exposed, yet it was the welfare system that held me afloat. The lifeline it offers to people like myself can mean the difference between a sinking ship and one that sails towards its destiny. Financial management isn't my strongest suit, and surviving on unemployment benefits alone becomes a Herculean task. But with this vital assistance, I can hopefully venture back into the workforce. 

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I should have had more help with my disability than I did. Coventry University did not acknowledge my disability until half way into the final year. They pulled out the stops, provided me with a laptop, money but what I really needed was note taker and it was too late for that and so the damage was done.

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I was ultimately disappointed with my degree result, I saw it as a failure. Too low a grade to get a Masters and too low to get meaningful employment. 

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​​Shadow of the Phoenix by Michael Ezare Barrett

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In the University of Life, we learn,
With paths we twist, and bridges we burn.
Not always lectures, but lessons entwined,
Each moment a teacher, sharp and kind. 

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From sleepless nights to joy’s bright call,
From stumbling blocks to standing tall.
In every struggle, in every strive,
We find the essence of being alive. 

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Tests aren’t written, and grades don’t show,
But wisdom flourishes within the glow.
Through fears we conquer, dreams we chase,
Our souls find resilience, our hearts find grace. 

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Amid the failings and the strife,
We earn degrees in the course of life.
With every breath and every beat,
We walk the stage, with triumphs replete.