If asked to name my biggest concern and reason for losing sleep, it would have to be that I feel absolutely out of my depth in terms of my education. Which is pathetic considering I'm still only at a high school level, scraping together credits little by little, 400 per semester if I'm lucky and pay attention, but most of all I worry about grades. I worry and fret because it still feels like it is so out of my hands. When I apply myself I get B or C; when I do not, I somehow achieve an A. It's a dangerous formula in terms of my engagement with my studies, particularly in how the more I strive to do well in a subject the worse I perform.
For heaven's sake, my best math test happened the day after I threw up whiskey in my bed and fell asleep in the vomit. I somehow scored a flawless A drawing up statistic charts with a pounding hangover and sucking on painkillers, and then I immediately tripped as I went out and landed in wet mud that covered half my body. The point is, when I am a disaster I somehow manage. It doesn't make sense to me.
Now here I am. I am acutely aware that the funding I receive for my high school studies cut off the minute I surpass the amount of credits I need get my graduation. I also realize that the paper I sent in to the funding services were all about some noble goal of going into engineering or economics, which frankly makes my skin crawl. There is always this gap in presenting myself as having an aim that is Noble, Worthwhile, and I rate it in the same manner everyone else does.
Who needs another English degree graduate anyway? Who needs a Swede with an English degree?
Then I start to argue with myself, because the jobs I see myself actually enjoying can benefit from that – librarian! Translator! Editor! I try to remind myself of this as I think of the choices I have made over the last month.
I think one path to better happiness is to throw my tentative caution to the wind and go all-out with the subjects I actually do love. Maybe I should not take that Chemistry class when I doubt my sincere affection for that subject (tantalizing as it is) and perhaps dive headfirst into Philosophy, Psychology (oh the intimate experiences I have with this subject!), Religion, languages. There's a course in Latin that deals with both the language and culture. I could maybe get a grip and open up the possibility of studying modern languages through taking a course in German, or Japanese (my affinity for Japanese literature, I suppose) – for so long I spend time denying what I want to do and make myself miserable.
I might continue with math but it's... The courses are so quick? They get done in so little time when I wish that maybe, I could have two months more. It's difficult to find flexibility in this rigid system I am attempting to navigate. And then I look around and I get insecure again. I shouldn't have flunked history as hard as I did. I should have gotten a better grade. I start beating myself up again, repeatedly.
It's like a circle of misery I perpetuate by being indecisive and trying to balance the idea of being both a rich and successful person my siblings can be proud of, and being the writer I yearn to be, living in a medium-sized city/town, in an apartment where I have a room of my own to write in. It doesn't have to be big, just fit a desk, a few shelves on the wall, a comfortable chair, a couch. A window I can open, a door I can close. I write the best when I am not watched. I made my ex put on headphones when he played games as I wrote, refusing to talk to him as I pounded out a terrible love story for hours on end.
So that's where my mind is.
Plus, I keep looking back at my time in school – going to terrible and underfunded schools where I set fire to things during recess and spat in boy's mouths because I was so frustrated that classes were only 40 minutes long and my mind is slow – I can say it's brilliant but it works slowly. I need time and I had so little of it. I skipped classes and worked at home, or not at all. I barely passed, I hated everything. 14 and depressed. 14 and angry.
It's just... I look at others who had their parents pull strings to get them into good schools. Who moved areas just to ensure they got into good ones. Why didn't my mother push me?
A thousand questions. I'll finish this later. Amend it with all my questions.