7 October 2011
Staying Afloat
When I first got back to university this year I knew straight away it was going to be tough, with facebook status's like "how does anyone actually get through 4th year" almost instantly. I threw myself into the library, printing everything I thought I could possibly need, spent far too much money on various pukka pads, highlighters, post-it notes, display files, folders, giant plastic envelopes, staplers... you name it I've got it. All of them together sitting on my desk are a comfort blanket, if I've just got everything organised, I'll be OK.
Lies. How does anyone actually get through final year? I'm aware it's just one of those days, well, one of those weeks. And I already feel a little better than yesterday after a serious panic fuelled productive evening last night. But I'll be honest (so far this blog has been filled with honesty lets not stop now) I'm drowning, almost. More like struggling to stay afloat. Whatever I do is not enough.
I know that sounds like I'm feeling sorry for myself but it's true. I can't possibly do everything for the project that I really want to, whenever I do give myself some time to get on top of it something else falls behind. The mountain of reading for each lecture never stops building, never. Add that to the looming biggie, the dissertation. My dissertation is on The Role of Memory in the Interpretation of Dreams as 'Precognitive'. I've got a great supervisor and a lovely dissertation partner, but shouldn't I be spending all day every day on that? Isn't that what people do? But how!? Dissertation, lectures, reading, exams, presentations, extra curricular work, part-time job, eating, sleeping and living. AND you're also supposed to be deciding what you want to do for the rest of your life.
The rest of your life. There's the real problem. Before now, it's been 'decide what you want to do for the next few years'.
"Well I want to do psychology, biology and philosophy and ethics at A level." says the 16 year old me, 2 years pass.
"I'm going to do psychology at university". says the 18 year old me, 4 years pass.
What next?
This is where it gets really tricky. Say you want to change your mind and alter from the path you were previously on, are you allowed? Maybe not as it turns out. By age 21 have I already made my bed and now I've got to lie in it?
At 18 I said "I want to be a psychologist". I said this having studied psychology for 2 years, and barely knowing myself let alone what 'being a psychologist' actually meant. Maybe I still do, maybe I don't. I genuinely don't know. I don't have the answers. And whilst every man and his dog is saying just focus on getting the grades at the end, every man and his dog will guaranteed ask me over Christmas and then on graduation day, so what next?
So there you go, decide who you want to be, where you want to be, what you want to be and how you are going to get there. Don't upset Mum, don't upset Dad, make grandparents proud, make money, keep morals, have a family, have a successful career.
"We'll be proud of you whatever happens from here on out" They said at 16.
Lies.
Proud if you get a 2.1 from a red brick, prouder of a first because so and so's daughter got a first. Prouder if you finish with a well rounded CV. Proud if you graduate with a job already offered, a job paying vast amounts because so and so got that. Prouder if that job is something that sounds good because your job is helping people.
But sure, we'd be just as proud if you'd gone to beauty school aged 16.
Labels:
drowning,
Edinburgh University,
final year,
pressure,
stress
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)

No comments:
Post a Comment