I know, you’re probably thinking, “Ugh, another whiner”, and honestly, you’d probably be right. So far I’ve scoured the net, and I haven’t found any sort of comfort in any other threads I’ve seen (so I’m hoping someone on here could possibly relate?).
Alright, right now I’m pursuing a major in English literature with a minor in European history. I love my classes, my professors are incredibly intelligent and a credit to their respective fields, all my school counselors are charming and helpful. I attend extracurricular lectures for fun and I am absolutely in love with the English department of my university. It’s positively lovely. Though I live off campus with my parents and I’m not the most active participant in campus life, I haven’t had issues making friends (or in the least amicable acquaintanceships); in fact, I’ve met scores of incredibly wonderful, interesting people (especially within my major). I have a lot of work (hundreds upon hundreds upon hundreds of pages of reading a week), but it’s mostly just time-consuming, not too difficult. I did surprisingly well grades-wise last semester (this being my second semester), which means that I get to keep what’s virtually a full-ride scholarship. I don’t think another university, another program, would make me any happier than I am now. By all means, I should have literally nothing to complain about.
And for some strange, inexplicable reason, I absolutely hate it. I don’t think it’s an adjustment problem (especially since this sort of thing has happened to me before – I was in this club that I learned a lot in and enjoyed once I got there, but the mere thought of going just filled me with this insurmountable dread. My life was so much better upon quitting), a friends problem, a money problem, a grades problem, or a I’m-waging-a-nasty-vendetta-against-this-arrogant-prick-of-a-professor problem. I just don’t belong. I understand the value behind college, like I know exposure to resources I’d neither have access to nor have selected on my own will better my skills and whatnot. I just don’t get it. It’s like I’m putting the middle seat belt buckle into the wrong console; it seems like it should fit (and as far as appearance’s sake, it appears to fit), but it just doesn’t click.
When I’m on campus, I can enthuse myself enough to care, but the second I get on the bus that disillusion I’ve placed myself under shatters. I get home and I procrastinate horribly because thinking about schoolwork – thus college – just makes me utterly miserable. I get up every morning dreading school, dreading my day, hating where I am in life. But I just can’t not care. That stupid honors student in the back of my head nags me until I do my work (and while I procrastinate, I always get things done on time – the sleep I forsake doesn’t annoy me too much). I can’t fail; I just can’t. My wiring won’t let me because of some warped sense of pride.
By all means, on paper, I seem like a relatively successful person, but that only makes me feel worse. I’m such a mess half the time, but somehow I’m a highly functioning mess. Not to mention for the last several years, I’ve thought I was legitimately bipolar (some times are like no other: I’m brilliant, charming, I could topple the world in a moment’s notice, but other times – for days, weeks, months – I’m just paralyzed by the sheer monstrosity of existence – and there was one week last semester where I just felt so out of control. I completely snapped at a – thankfully understanding – professor who only partially deserved my wrath, and I wound up having a complete mental break down – I literally thought I was physically going to keel over and die), but I haven’t sought out professional help because honestly, that’s freaking terrifying. What if I’m not? Then I’m just a whiner. What if I am? That’s a severe mental health issue that I really need addressed (and really don’t have the means to pay for on the long term).
Regardless, I don’t think my hatred of college is a manifestation of depression. I don’t think that I’m the one making myself miserable here; this feels different. I honestly think I COULD be content – in the least just okay – with what I’m doing with myself, just not here. I’ve been wanting to do things that don’t involve school, but I just can’t do them. College is so draining and when I get home I just think that I deserve to do nothing because I’ve been so high-strung, putting a facade up the whole day. I want a job, I want to move out, I want to do something; I want to find meaning for myself, not accept what society considers meaningful. I’d like to gain experience, lose the stress, be able to stand on my own two feet as a probably underachieving adult. I’d like to know if there’s something genuinely wrong with my mental health without all this muck in the way. I want to do something, but I just can’t. I’m running on empty as it is.
I can’t drop out either. I don’t have a job or quite enough in savings, and I would literally never hear the end of it from my family if I did (which would make living with them positively unbearable – that and I’m literally the only child AND grandchild. They built their expectations, put absolutely all their stock, in me, and I don’t think I’d ever hear the end of it if I did – that is assuming I don’t become some ridiculous success, but if they’re expecting that, it’d only be more stress I don’t need). The best I can do is drop my minor and graduate super early fall of 2016 thanks to a ton of AP credits. Five semesters. I can maybe do this.
Honestly, I’m surprised if you’ve read this far. Think I’m full of crap if you want, some stupid ingrate, a complete waste, whatever. I’m just so sick of school, and that only troubles me further because there shouldn’t be anything that makes me feel that way. I just needed to tell someone, even if my words fall on nothing but internet void.