I wonder if I made a mistake. I mean, I made a lot of bad decisions in my life. However, I can’t tell if I made the right decision to drop out of college. Only time will tell, but by then, I won’t be able to reverse this decision.
I love to learn. It’s fun for me to analyze written works and solve problems. It’s entertaining when I feel my intelligence be challenged with new materials. I love education, but I loathe school. I hate our education system and I detest what our society has become.
When I was a junior in high school, we were showed a TED talk, and it was about “faking it until you make it.” People in my class and my teacher were moved by it, but I didn’t like it at all. I’m not saying that it’s wrong or that it doesn’t work. I simply didn’t like the method. It felt like we were being told to fake everything to eventually become it, letting the course of life and society push you down a specific path. A lack of individuality. I think in that moment I truly realized that I don’t conform to society. I want to choose who I become rather than have life choose it for me.
If I am to be honest, I never wanted to go to college. A part of me always knew that I wouldn’t make it. I’m not afraid of change. I’m afraid of becoming a person who I don’t know or like. I told my mother when I was a junior that I was thinking of not going to college at all. It took some discussion, but she eventually told me that as long as I could provide for myself and that I was happy, it didn’t matter. If I left home, she wanted me to stay in contact.
But I knew. She still was hoping that I would go to college.
The thing about me is that no matter how much people screw me over. How much they have me in the back of their mind like an afterthought. How much I act like I don’t care. I am weak to other people’s emotions. I mean, if I didn’t care about myself (depression), who cared if I got hurt more for the sake of someone else? Who cared if in the end, no one wanted to help me, but expected something from me?
And it did move me. Watching my mother do little side jobs to pay for my siblings’ textbooks and gas. Watching her get so frustrated when said siblings ignored her phone calls (they went to college in a different state). Watching her struggle to work for the house because my father suddenly decided that he didn’t want to work anymore. Watching everyone disregard her feelings because of the mistakes she made in the past. Without a doubt, it moved me. I’m not the best daughter. I was mean to my mother. I was angry that no one was helping me and I was so confused. But I knew that it hurt me seeing my mother hurt. In my senior year, I just decided that I would go to college, get a useful degree, pick up my mother’s phone calls, and visit my mother. I was excited for that, but… as you know from my previous post, my mother died before I could do any of that. I lost my reason to go to college.
I lost my reason to be moved by others’ emotions. My mother’s passing was abrupt, and so unreal. But it was real. It felt like no one knew that. Or maybe they did but they just didn’t care. One of my sisters never came until the last day of the funeral, but she knew that my mom was dying. We told her to come when my mom was still in the hospital, unconscious. One of my brothers was complaining at the funeral saying that he was Christian, why did he have to participate in a cultural funeral? There’s just so much more that depressed me, but you know what the worst part was? After the funeral, my dad asked me if I wanted a new mom. I just cried, and said that, no, I didn’t want one. But he took all the money and left me to go find one. That’s the reason why I don’t talk to my dad anymore.
I know that people grieve differently. Even my social worker at college told me that I shouldn’t be so hard on my dad and that it’s probably just how he grieved. But you know, someone died. A life ended, and I was left by myself. I was so angry. I’m still angry. And you know what, my family (my father included) still expects me to do something with myself. After sending me off to college when I was still grieving at the lost of my home (I was also evicted from my old house) and my parents. They also knew that I was still dealing with depression and social anxiety. They told me to take out more loans to pay for college. I did. Because my dad said, “If you really want me to, I’ll pay for your school.”
I wanted nothing to do with my family, especially my father. I feel like I’m a horrible person for acting like this, for feeling this way. But it’s just how I feel. I hate myself for not being able to control it. And then I feel so guilty, because my mother wanted us to help each other. I don’t know what to do.
Anyways, I went to college. My first year, grade wise, was well. I kept myself driven from the thought that going to college was what my mother wanted. I had no social life. I had no one except for my boyfriend and my roommate, both from high school. The first time I saw my father again was during spring break. I went back to the dorms and for the first time, I experienced a panic attack. At least, I think it was. I am so scared of my father, because he has become the epitome of what my mother didn’t wish for. Honestly, I feel like if I befriend my father, my mother would despise me more than she already does. The next school year, I went back to live in the dorms and it was horrible. I really wanted to die.
I roomed with my boyfriend, and I know that sounds bad, but it was the only thing keeping me going. At this point, let me say that I never visited my family unless the school told us that we had to. I didn’t (still don’t as mentioned in my earlier post) like visiting my sister. I had no real home, no personal place, so I always stayed in the dorms. My boyfriend went home every weekend. With the increasing of panic attacks and trying to understand why nothing changes, I was losing myself. I didn’t go see a social worker, because after the first year, I found it useless. I don’t think anyone thinks as deeply as I do, and that’s not a problem for me. I just felt like no one was really listening to me. My boyfriend became stressed and we spiraled down into an unhealthy relationship. But it wasn’t like we didn’t love each other. We just didn’t know how to help one another.
We stopped going to class, mostly because of me. I was far too afraid to leave the room. College felt suffocating. It wasn’t like I could fake it until I made it. If college was purely about education, I could do it. It’s not. It’s about socializing and buttering up professors. I find it messed up that the proper way to ask a professor out is to pay for their meal, just so you can talk about your grades and future. Then there’s the students, the “millennials.” They were all cheating on exams, cheating on each other, quick to anger without thinking, trolling each other, making offensive jokes, and just so full of themselves. It didn’t matter what clique I looked at, they all seem to have the same thought process. It just felt like there was a lack of integrity, respect, and modesty. It’s like no one thought about anyone else except for themselves. And our professors were so quick to adapt to that. I couldn’t fake it until I make it, because being a millennial would be becoming someone I hate.
My mom went into the hospital because of a stroke. The veins going to her brain constricted and so with the lack of oxygen, it happened. I was surrounded by people who made jokes about having a stroke. Some of these people already knew how my mom died. I don’t want to be an insensitive person who can casually hurt another.
I became so afraid of being someone that I would hate, so I never went to class. It’s not only that, I also had no idea what to do after college. I can’t imagine myself being in a office. Lastly, I have no reason going to college since, in reality, my mom is dead. I didn’t need to please her anymore. So I dropped out.
Am I happier? A little. As for my family, they see me as a failure and hold a grudge against me not telling them anything. They see me as someone stupid who isn’t thinking about life seriously. But they don’t know that I am, and that’s why I’m still here. Maybe I’ll go back to school in the future, maybe not.