Roots

I guess one of the causes (as I’m sure there are many) of my depression is my education.

I like to learn things, I do. Try (just try, no pressure) to discover things and life beyond my comprehension, even.

 

But, as with any other person, there are just certain things we’d like to study about, often related to what we’re passionate about.

Some people like cooking. Some people study culinary arts to become chefs, and others study in their own kitchen, and become cooks in their own right.

Others like science and math. Scientists and Mathematicians. I don’t even want to have a debate with them without a valid argument.

Others, religion. I think they’re called theologians?

 

My point is, there are people who pursue their dream careers/passion by studying/receiving education as a first step to achieving them.

Then there are others, like me (who didn’t know what she wanted to be when she grew up), who pick a so-so course in college and think it would benefit them in the future.

It doesn’t.

 

2009

I was a senior in high school back then. All of my friends knew what they were going to study in college. Being the indecisive asshole that I was (and still am), I didn’t know what I wanted back then.

Actually, no. I wanted to study psychology back then. Not the I-will-kill-for-a-class-slot-for-this kind of want, but at least I wanted something.

So I told my parents about me wanting to take up psychology, in a joking manner, as what I always did (and still do).

“But you’ll get nowhere with that course!” I rolled my eyes. I was right; they were looking for a career that would make more money than my eyes could produce tears.

“Your uncle said ______ would be a good course,” and they proceeded to tell me about how it would make me a rich working girl in no time at all.

Being the obedient girl that I am (or maybe I was just avoiding conflict and possible “shame on you” scenes), I went along with what they wanted. Deep inside, however, I knew that that’s not what I wanted. I didn’t want money. I just wanted to graduate out of college so the whole world would not look down on me. For the others, a college diploma might mean their ticket to a stable life. For me it was my ticket out of society’s judgmental sights and blabbering mouth.

So there, blah blah blah. I was admitted into the program my parents chose for me.

And that’s where my life started to go downhill.

 

2010

First semester, first year. Finals. I was crying (internally because I’m too ‘strong’ to cry), and was really depressed by this time. It was the first time I hit that kind of low, where you feel like you’re drowning even when you don’t see a droplet of water anywhere near you. I didn’t know why I was sad. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life, I just knew I wanted to do something. I felt like my skin was crawling. I felt like I needed to get out of something. I felt like I needed to get out of my life.

 

From then on

Over time, I realized that I don’t like what I’m studying about. I started to realize that I may be realizing a dream, but it’s not mine. It’s my parents’. Not they don’t want to be clinician like what I’m trying to become, but they like to have a career that pays well.

But hey, it’s just four years of suffering, then I can do whatever I want afterwards.

I was wrong. It’s not just suffering. It’s absolute living in hell. Four years of hell.

Actually, make that five years.

Because of depression, I need to repeat my internship year (fourth year). I was not doing well, my professors said.

 

2014

And here I am, about to start my fifth year in college in August.

For four years now, I have been suffering from depression. Mainly (and I do believe this) because I’m not walking in the right career path. I am in the right school but with the wrong major.

No, I can’t just change my major now. It’s like throwing my last four years of education away, which is pretty expensive; and you don’t throw away expensive things.

Besides, if someone would ask what I’d like to study now, I still wouldn’t know what my answer would be.

In a span of four years I’ve grown to love music, photography, and psychology (even more), but these things? I don’t want to learn about them in school. I want to learn about them by experiencing them hands-on.

Except maybe the psychology part (too late for that now, though).

 

I’m still as lost as when I was in high school.

 

-KP

Jul14’14

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4 thoughts on “Roots

  1. I think it’s hard to know what you want to do straight out of high school. They don’t give you enough choices, they don’t even try (My opinion maybe other schools are different).

    I didn’t know what I wanted to do in high school, so I went to the vocational school to be a hair stylist. It wasn’t a round peg in a square hole, I was a jigsaw piece in a peg board. I did graduate, because I’m not a quitter. I got a job, for all of 4 months. Then started to just get a ‘job’ to pay the bills.

    I worked at Wendy’s for 8 hours. I worked at a drug store. Both equally awful. I needed a job quick to pay the rent & I fell into a job as a Physical Therapist transporter (take patients to PT within the building). It was an awesome min wage job. It showed me Physical Therapy, which I never have been exposed to before and I found where I want to be. I now have my dream job, but I never would have considered it in high school.

    My mom always wanted me to go into business. Argh, would have been worse than hair. I chose PT assistant, which is a good job and a career in itself, and my mom used to ask me when I was going to be the Physical Therapist. Um, never.

    My point is, I hope you can stick it out. I know how terrible it is to be in a place you don’t feel you fit. You will find your dream job (I hope) and you may never know what direction it’s coming from.

    • My major actually has something to do with helping PWDs.
      And really, I do want to help them help themselves.
      I just think that maybe, there are other ways for me to help them.
      I just realized that I wanted to have a job that pays enough for me to be independent on my own (but right now I have to take into consideration helping my family first)
      I actually thought (just now) that maybe I’ll be happy even if I work as a waitress or something, one that doesn’t take my mind off my hobbies such as writing and photography, and music. Especially writing.

      And you know how these clinicians (PT, OT, SLP) work, they really need to spend their time and grill their brains for them to be able to come up with effective and individualized client plans.
      Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate what they do (and also their assistants-I haven’t seen one, let alone they exist, so kudos to you!). I just think that that path isn’t for me.

      Lastly, I want to congratulate you for discovering and doing what you love. And thank you for your kind and insightful words. 🙂

  2. Yes, it definitely sounds like going into the field your parents wanted — not you — is causing great pain. I’ve been figuring out for myself that whenever I do something (even something as tiny as washing the dishes!) because I think I “ought to,” not because I independently choose to, it really kills me inside. It’s taken me about 20 years to figure that out!! So, you are way ahead of me. Now, you just need to figure out what to do about it — whatever you decide, even if it’s to finish the course you hate, let it be your decision. Best of luck!!

  3. Nailed the education struggle of college.
    I wonder if the board of education people are aware college students are really really not happy at all.

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