Too much, too young
I can't be old enough to hate my life, can I? I don't mean in a teen-angst "oh my God, everyone hates me!" kind of way either, rather a full-blown "my life's going nowhere and I might as well give up" type thing. A mid-life crisis at 17. Almost as impressive as 3 hyphenated words in 2 sentences. And all because I got into Cambridge. (3 consectutive sentences beginning with words beginning with 'A' now. Me and my crazy language skills.) I thought it was what I wanted. I thought that if I got an offer I'd be happy. And... I'm more miserable than I've ever been. I don't want to study Computer Science. I don't want a career in computing. All I can keep thinking is that I've made a terrible mistake based on a childhood dream to design computer games. Why didn't I realise that that was all I was doing when I applied to the course? It seems absurd that someone supposedly so intelligent can fail to appreciate his own thinking until it's too late.
Should I have applied to do Maths and Philosophy at Oxford? Yes, I should have. The philosophy would have provided me with the inspiration for my art whilst the maths would have mentally challenged me and left me feeling satisfied. Having said that, if I had applied to do that instead of CompSci, I'm not at all convinced that I wouldn't still be having the same doubts. Whenever something I thought I wanted comes along, something that I thought would make me happy, I always concentrate on the negative. If I'd applied to Oxford, I don't see any reason why that wouldn't have still been the case. Right now I'm thinking that I just need to get to Cambridge, see that everything is fine and I'll be good, but second-guessing myself, I'll probably find something else to be miserable about even when that turns out to be the case. Is that depression - always looking to the future for that one thing that will definitely make you happy, missing out on the moment in the process, and then once the future comes, failing to be happy with that thing you were so certain would make you happy and once again looking to something else? I think it is.
In addition to the course fears, I still don't think that uni is for me. If I want to be a writer or a musician, which I do, what real good is a degree going to do me? People say that if the degree will be useless, the experience will be worthwhile. I just don't believe them. 3-4 years is a long time. I could write a play or become half-decent at the guitar in that time, maybe even both! At the same time I have this constant fear that these are not very realistic ambitions, especially now with this extreme lack of self-confidence I have (thinking that I've just made one of the biggest mistakes in my life). So I'll probably fail to make myself a success in what I genuinely want to do. Add to that the fact that I'm currently single and haven't ever had a long-term girlfriend, and you get a life completely devoid of meaning and a man (me) destined to be unhappy for the duration of it. Hurrah.
So where does this leave me? It leaves me wanting to kill myself, fairly inevitably, although the thought of my mum's face if I did so holds me back. As such I have continually been on the brink of tears for the last few days, although I can't cry, just because I can't. Possibly psychosomatic. I'm also can't seem to stop twitching. Nowhere in particular; arms, legs, back, stomach, face - pretty much everywhere. Definitely psychosomatic. Not sleeping either, just lying in bed in hot sweats, twitching. I think I had some other stuff to say, I'm not really sure. My mind keeps drifting (got on the wrong today, only to change onto another wrong one, such is the absent-mindedness). The main point of this was to help me decide where I go from here, so please don't tell me that I'm just a spoilt brat. I've had enough of that today, both from myself and others. Oh yeah, and thanks to everyone who took time to congratulate me on my Cambridge offer :)
Should I have applied to do Maths and Philosophy at Oxford? Yes, I should have. The philosophy would have provided me with the inspiration for my art whilst the maths would have mentally challenged me and left me feeling satisfied. Having said that, if I had applied to do that instead of CompSci, I'm not at all convinced that I wouldn't still be having the same doubts. Whenever something I thought I wanted comes along, something that I thought would make me happy, I always concentrate on the negative. If I'd applied to Oxford, I don't see any reason why that wouldn't have still been the case. Right now I'm thinking that I just need to get to Cambridge, see that everything is fine and I'll be good, but second-guessing myself, I'll probably find something else to be miserable about even when that turns out to be the case. Is that depression - always looking to the future for that one thing that will definitely make you happy, missing out on the moment in the process, and then once the future comes, failing to be happy with that thing you were so certain would make you happy and once again looking to something else? I think it is.
In addition to the course fears, I still don't think that uni is for me. If I want to be a writer or a musician, which I do, what real good is a degree going to do me? People say that if the degree will be useless, the experience will be worthwhile. I just don't believe them. 3-4 years is a long time. I could write a play or become half-decent at the guitar in that time, maybe even both! At the same time I have this constant fear that these are not very realistic ambitions, especially now with this extreme lack of self-confidence I have (thinking that I've just made one of the biggest mistakes in my life). So I'll probably fail to make myself a success in what I genuinely want to do. Add to that the fact that I'm currently single and haven't ever had a long-term girlfriend, and you get a life completely devoid of meaning and a man (me) destined to be unhappy for the duration of it. Hurrah.
So where does this leave me? It leaves me wanting to kill myself, fairly inevitably, although the thought of my mum's face if I did so holds me back. As such I have continually been on the brink of tears for the last few days, although I can't cry, just because I can't. Possibly psychosomatic. I'm also can't seem to stop twitching. Nowhere in particular; arms, legs, back, stomach, face - pretty much everywhere. Definitely psychosomatic. Not sleeping either, just lying in bed in hot sweats, twitching. I think I had some other stuff to say, I'm not really sure. My mind keeps drifting (got on the wrong today, only to change onto another wrong one, such is the absent-mindedness). The main point of this was to help me decide where I go from here, so please don't tell me that I'm just a spoilt brat. I've had enough of that today, both from myself and others. Oh yeah, and thanks to everyone who took time to congratulate me on my Cambridge offer :)