What Really Matters?

The glass around my snow globe has a crack in it. At the edge. Low down. Not all the way through. Just a crack. An imperfection. Hope. Fear. In some respects it could be argued that I’ve turned my back on my library as well as my blog. It’s been a while. I’ve been tired. I am not in the clearing right now. I am at the edge of the snow globe, on the far edges of the woods, leaning against the glass. I’m tired.
I’m dropping out. Of university, not of life. I don’t know how I feel. I’m tired of being a student. I’m tired of the stupid internal politics. I’m tired of the microcosm. I’m tired of the stupid words and ways of phrasing things. I’m tired of having to constantly pretend to be offended or risk my lack of offense offending someone. I’m tired of belonging by right of which diversity boxes I can tick. I’m tired of how unreal it is. I’m tired of how meaningless it is. I’m tired of exams and studying and self-worth being based on a percentage mark. I’m tired of coaxing myself through, telling myself that if I can just get to the end of this next year, if I can just pass Second and Third year with a First I can go on and do a PHD and forget about my MSci year. My brain crashed in November and in the run up to that I don’t think I made it through a full week without threatening dropping out. Do I want another year like that? Can I even get through four exams over the next two weeks? Four exams I haven’t been able to coax my brain into studying for because everything takes me so long and I panic. No. Honestly. No.
So what then? Be a drop out. Add one more thing to the list of things I was too afraid to follow through with. Make the last four and half years of my life a waste. That’s what it was all about, go back to uni. Finish my degree. Be a scientist. Does it matter that I’d hate academia? Does it matter that the insecurity would do my head in? Or that the stupid, pointless bias based on trends and who knows who would make my head explode?
I am not the person I wanted to be. I can’t be that person. I can’t decide what I like and what I don’t like. I can’t decide what I can cope with and what I can’t. I am the person that I am. I like writing. I like working in a lab. I like psychology more than biology. I like chemical puzzles but not chemical formulae. Lecture theatres make me want to fall asleep, it’s not the subject matter, it’s the lighting. I hate practicals because of having to work with people, but also because of feeling watched. I can’t stand being watched. If someone is walking behind me when I’m out I cross the road, in a practical lab, you’re stuck there or you leave.
So I’m leaving. I decided I wanted to go to university when I was 9 years old. I’m 23. I don’t have a degree. I quit. Judge me.

 

I have tried to make myself work the way I’m supposed to. The way teachers at school thought I should, the way society says is productive and proactive and successful. I am not that. I don’t want to be a doctor in a research laboratory. I want to be happy.