holy fucking shit i just
that last line
holy fucking shit i just
that last line
My poor baby cat, you’re having a real time of it. You poor thing. This is an awful way to feel.
take it from me, it is harder to go to university than work. You’re not weird for finding that. It is infinitely easier to turn up at a job than class.
I barely managed to turn up at college at all and I had, like, 5 lectures a week. I took Spanish in my second year and managed to make it to a single lesson all term. I never went to a seminar in my life, despite how interesting I imagine they were. I never missed a shift at work though. Possibly because there were immediate consequences at work - no one tells you off if you don’t turn up at lectures, but they do at work.
I’ve been working for about 6 years now, and in what I think of as a ‘proper job’ (as in related to what I studied, 9-5.30 etc) and I’ve never had a problem turning up, generally on time, and getting on with it. And that’s been the case during my really depressed phases too. It didn’t occur to me to not go in; I didn’t my choice.
If you’re anything like me, it’s where choice arises that there’s a problem.
You’re not a failure. You’re not failing. Your circumstances are currently failing you. They’re not accommodating who you are. The parts of you that don’t fit neatly into the ‘studying at college’ box are not the problem – the box is the wrong shape.
These systems (college etc) are a one-kind-fits-no-one-very-well experience. But it’s not you failing at something; it’s failing you.
My experience at college made me know I didn’t want to be a freelancer despite my area (graphics, animation, illustration) generally being that way inclined. I’m not a self-starter, I tend to inertia. That’s just me. Those aren’t problems if I manage to keep away from areas that require those skills. Other people have those things but then other people don’t have plenty of other qualities that I do. I just need to recognize those facts about myself so I can try to isolate myself from situations where they’ll be a problem and make me unhappy.
(BTW, consider the possibility, if you haven’t already, that you’re dyslexic. Talk to your institution’s relevant office about an assessment. If it’s not something you’ve investigated before, you might be surprised that dyslexia is linked to all sorts of things about mental health, happiness and confidence. I was diagnosed young, but since my particular variety never much affected my reading or writing (probably because my parents read to me and helped me so much early on), I never needed support throughout my whole school career.
Then I hit A-levels and fell apart. Because of the choice element. No one was going to tell mum if I didn’t turn up at class. So I largely didn’t, and felt miserable about it. (And apart from anything else, one spends the first 15 years of your life in a strictly regimented lifestyle, and suddenly you get you 16 and are expected to know how to take responsibility for yourself? Huh)
By my second year of uni I was ready to admit that maybe dyslexia was a bigger problem than I’d known – only it affected my memory, organizational abilities and time-sense, none of which I’d had to rely on much as a schoolchild. The Learning Support office gave me some free stuff, which was nice, but the best thing was that they booked me in for weekly sessions with a mentor at a specialized institute.
I would go and talk to her about what my workload was, what my deadlines were, and she would help me work out a schedule for getting it done. The lovely woman didn’t even bat an eyelid (OK, maybe a small flutter) when I told her I hadn’t really done anything with my dissertation and it was due in two weeks. Again, outside structure saved me from myself. Or rather from the triggers to my inertia and depression.
I know how bleaugh it is to have someone shove a load of ‘helpful, practical’ advice in your face when what you’re saying is ‘I’m depressed’. I’m not trying to tell you how to ‘solve’ your problem, I just think dyslexia might be an avenue worth exploring for you (as I say, if you haven’t already). Dyselxia left me in a state very much like the one you describe. Obviously it wasn’t only that that made me depressed, but it exasperated it.
I only really wanted to say, you have my sympathy. It sounds like you’re having a really rough time. You’re going to be fine. But you’re not at the moment, and that’s really awful.
And that you are not failing. This is not failure.