While I struggle to get super personal here, I often find myself thinking that if I share some of my experiences with anxiety and depression it might be helpful for myself and maybe even others. I know that when I read about other people’s struggles with these things I get a sense of not being alone which is incredibly comforting during moments of darkness.
This week I have been feeling off. I wouldn’t say depressed because I don’t think it’s reached that level yet, but I’ve been feeling blue and a bit anxious. I don’t want to do very much, I feel tired, and I sort of want to either hide away by myself or surround myself with the most comforting people I know (i.e. my mother and sisters). I’ve also been rather tearful. I would say that I am ‘a crier’ anyway. I’ll sob over a WISPA ad on TV, for example, or shed a few drops when Ellen Degeneres gives stuff away to deserving people. This is much more likely if it’s around the time I have PMS. These all seem fairly valid reasons to cry though. This week, waves of deep sadness have come over me at random moments, no commercials or menstruation necessary.
I do know that I am not feeling great about university. I find it extremely difficult to care enough about the topics, the outcome of getting my degree, etc. to care about the work involved. As the years have gone by, I have come to realise that I don’t particularly enjoy academic work. I often find research tedious and writing assignments is more like a nasty chore. I know that these things are about attitude. Somehow I have developed this attitude of just not liking it and therefore fighting it the whole time. More often lately I have been daydreaming about the things I would rather be doing: designing bags and stationery, and selling them to make a living. I no longer daydream about being a clinical psychologist. The thought of it actually causes the physical sensation of being strangled a little, or stuck in a very small box. I don’t think I want to listen to peoples’ problems, not because I don’t care, but because I am not sure I want my work-life to be based around others’ probably negative problems and having to confront that every day while maintaining my own positive head space.
I don’t know what all of this means right now. It’s like a big puzzle with only some of the pieces and absolutely no image to reference. I have no idea what the picture is or how many of the pieces fit together. It’s confusing and frustrating. Is this a quarter-life crisis? I’m 24 in a few months and I feel like I’m partially on the wrong path. My interest in psychology is there but I just don’t know if I actually want to be a psychologist any more. When I think of who I am and what I love, being creative is the most prominent thing. It is what has always been my strongest, most consistent love. From playdough sculptures and wooden cars made with milk bottle lids for wheels to painting ceramics to drawing and painting to needlework and sewing to website design and beyond. All of my most-loved hobbies have been artistic and over the last year and half I have been coming to the conclusion that, actually, I think I would rather make a living from doing something creative.
When I think of me, I don’t think any other career makes as much sense as one based in art. Which is basically what my dad has been saying to me since I was about 14. So, now what?
