She stands in the shower, the warm water dripping down her face. At least now, nobody can see that she's crying. She gets out of the shower, shivers as her feet hit the cold tiles. She wraps herself in her towel and sits on the edge of the bath. As she looks down at her scarred legs she feels that deep lonely ache in the pit of her stomach. She hastily pulls on her clothes and leaves the bathroom. She scrabbles around for her books and pens and throws them in a bag. She turns on her hairdryer to drown out the noise of the students talking noisily and happily in the street. She picks up her bag, pulls on her boots and walks out of the door. Today is just going to be the same. She gets to her seminar group 5 minutes early. She gets out her notes and takes her seat, saying nothing but a polite hello. There's no point saying anything else any more. She feels unappreciated and disliked by the group. As the discussion begins, she is frequently talked over and ignored, and even put down by other members of the group. This isn't what this should be like. This should be enjoyable, and sociable, but instead, she gives in and sits in silence. She sits, and just hopes that soon it will end. She leaves, only to go to her lecture, and sit and cry silent tears, hoping that nobody can see.
This is my attempt at trying to express what PBL days are like for me this year. It's a constant struggled with my group and I dread the days. My tutor has been fantastic, and a great help and support, but I just don't feel valued, and I don't feel like my presence is even noticed. I guess, this is just the way it's going to be.