The Honesty of a College Grad
I can't help but feel like getting a degree in psychology has been one of the worst mistakes in my life. I hate typing that and I hate feeling that way. Not primarily because it makes me depressed, but because I feel like I'm not supposed to feel that way or have that kind of attitude. I've always said I want to live life with no regrets, but the truth is that I feel like I've made huge mistakes that I really do regret.
I think a lot about what I should've done differently, which I'm sure everybody does at one point or another. Like if I could go back in time to my 18 year old self, I would say definitely still go to your first semester of college, but then go back home and work for a few years. Then when you're 21 go enroll at this local college (that's a whole lot cheaper than the places I went) and stay there for 2 years. Then transfer to an art school and major in art with a concentration in graphic design. If only....if only.
For my entire life people have told me that a career in art would be stupid and a plan for failure. Everyone said that the correct path would be something practical, like a degree in business, science, education, or....psychology. When I say everyone I mean teachers/professors, advisors, fellow classmates, family members, and just anyone I spoke with about college. My mom always told me though that I need to choose whatever God is leading me towards. She chose the "wrong" major in college too so she's always been a big advocate of going with where you feel lead to go. She got an undergrad and grad degree in education, specifically special ed. She was a teacher for about 10 years, but never felt totally in love with it. She said that at the end of her sophomore year of college she felt like she should change her major to psychology (ironic? haha), but that she felt it was too late to change majors so she stuck with education. About 5 years ago she decided to go back to school to get her grad degree in counseling, what she should've done all along. Counseling was right for her, but not right for me. My mom tried it and loved it, I tried it and hated it. But that's what my degree is in, I can't go back to change it.
So...getting back on track haha. I went with psychology even though in my heart I knew I wanted to go with art because it's what I've loved my entire life. Ever since preschool, I've loved to draw and I've loved everything about art. I remember in elementary school checking out Serendipity and American Girl books from the library because of the beautiful art (the stories were good too haha) and wished that one day I could draw like that. In middle school and high school, I took art classes and was praised for my art, but as I said before very few people in my life actually supported me in pursuing a degree or career in art. When I got to college, as I've said like 5 times lol, I chose my major as psychology, but I did minor in art. But again, if I could go back and change things, I would have majored in art and probably minored in psychology.
I'm gonna talk about my college experience now....it's gonna take a long time to explain so...get ready for a long story lol So... I actually went to three colleges which personally I feel like is a lot but...that's what happened. I'm gonna label them college A, B, and C so it's not confusing. The first college I went to, college A, was my "dream college" and I enjoyed it at first because I was 18 and I was excited about being away from home and doing my own thing. There were major problems though. The first thing was that college A was on top of a mountain and I didn't have a car. I'm sure most of you are thinking "well why don't you just ask people for a ride?" The problem with this was that I was extremely shy and hated asking people anything at all. Another thing was that very few people were actually willing to give someone a ride unless you were their BFF. Whenever I gathered up the courage to ask someone they almost always had some sort of excuse. I don't blame (most) of them because I think what happened was the bystander effect (I guess my psych degree is helpful for something? lol) If you don't know, the bystander effect basically is assuming that someone else will get the job done. So if you see a homeless man begging for money, you might think "oh, someone else will give him money" then you walk on. So I feel like most of the people I asked for a ride assumed that someone else would give me a ride. Another problem I had during my first year of college was that I had severe depression and anxiety. It came on slowly and not knowing much about psychology at the time, I didn't recognize what I was going through. I was depressed and anxious for a variety of reasons, primarily because I was incredibly lonely. As I said before, I was extremely shy and have never been good at starting conversations. I did make a few friends, but a lot of those friends left after the first semester. At the beginning of the second semester, I only had one friend that I didn't get to see very often. Plus it was winter and I was on top of a very, very cold mountain. All of this combined and the depression set in. I skipped class a lot and started failing classes. I just couldn't get out of bed, only to eat, go to the bathroom, and get online. My psych professor and advisor asked to meet with me and basically told me that I wasn't college material and that he could write a letter to my mom to tell her that. I don't care who you are, but you should never tell anyone that, ever, especially not to someone who was extremely depressed at the time. In some ways though...he was right, but he should've worded it differently...he should've said that I wasn't ready for college at that time. I went back to my room feeling even more terrible about myself. A few days later, I got a call from my mom who told me that my paternal grandmother had passed away. I was incredibly shocked by this. I was never particularly close to her because she lived far away and I had only seen her maybe five times in my life, but it still hit me really hard, especially when I heard how she died. Apparently, the year before she had been diagnosed with breast cancer, but she chose not to receive treatment which may seem crazy to almost everyone, but she had a reason. About 5 years before she was diagnosed, her son/my uncle had passed away from lung cancer. My uncle had no idea he had lung cancer until one day his lungs suddenly collapsed and the doctor told him that he had stage 4 lung cancer and didn't have long to live. They told him treatment wouldn't do much good, plus he couldn't afford it. He lived two more years, but he struggled through them. The last time I saw him before he died he looked like a 90 year old man, completely hairless and didn't have a pound of fat on him. He was just 45. Having seen her son go through the horrors of cancer, my grandmother didn't want to put anyone else through the heartbreak of seeing their loved ones slowly die. So she told no one. I was heartbroken for her knowing she suffered with this death sentence by herself. I don't blame her for not receiving treatment or not telling anyone, but....I think anyone would wish there was something they could've done. So a week later was the last week of February and it was time for Spring break. My mom came to pick me up and the second she walked in my dorm room, I started bawling. I told her how miserable I was and that I didn't know what was wrong with me. I told her I just wanted to go home...not just for break, but for the semester. My mom was shocked and didn't quite understand, but she's always been a good mom and told me that everything was going to be okay. That spring and summer was not pleasant. I was at home and with my friends and family, but my maternal grandmother bothered the heck out of me the entire time. Unlike my paternal grandmother, I was actually extremely close to my maternal grandmother. We lived in the same town and she was in my life ever since I was born until the day she died. She was an amazing grandmother and person, but she did have one big flaw...she was extremely controlling. My grandma also grew up in the great depression so she didn't really recognize depression as an illness. She was always taught that depression or anxiety are things that you just have to get rid of and go on with life. When I came home, I was recovering and still wasn't doing a lot other than reading, playing video games, and getting online. I was also internally processing what exactly went on at college A and kind of psychoanalyzing myself. My grandmother also believed that everyone should be active all of the time and wasn't okay with me sitting down and "doing nothing" so she scolded me constantly and we had a lot of arguments at the time. That summer, my mom asked me if I wanted to go to a local college, I said I did because I didn't know what else to do and I was determined to not be a "failure." That was actually a really, really bad decision. I was in no shape to start college again. Like I said above, I should have just started working and gotten therapy, but I didn't and I suffered because of it. I enrolled at college B and went there for 3 years. To be honest, I was still depressed and anxious the entire time but I tried to convince myself that I wasn't which isn't something anyone should do lol I did poorly in a lot of classes there because of a lot of the same reasons I had with the first college. I was still suffering from depression and anxiety...more so anxiety (I'll go more into detail a little bit later), I was still super shy and didn't start conversations, and a new problem, I didn't really like a lot of the students at this college lol The students....a lot of them were rich and privileged white kids who had gone to private schools. I was not that type of person, I came from a single parent, middle-low class home. Plus I'm a nerd and even though there were some nerds there, I just didn't really click with them for some reason. Going back to anxiety, I started having panic attacks around this time. Again, I didn't really recognize what they were at first. I just thought that maybe I was getting high blood pressure or that something was wrong with my heart. The panic attacks were small at first, I would have small bouts of heart palpitations, but as time went on the heart palpitations lasted for longer amounts of time and I would also get shortness of breath. I didn't go to the doctor until I had a panic attack that lasted on and off for 3 days straight. Fortunately, my doctor recognized it right away, but she did an EKG anyway to rule out that it wasn't a heart problem. The doctor came into my room and said "Okay, I want you to breathe with me" which I thought was strange but I did what she said. She went through a basic breathing technique with me....inhale for 5 seconds..hold for 5 seconds...exhale for 5 seconds and repeat. My panic attack immediately stopped. I was amazed. She told me that she wasn't going to prescribe me to any medication because she believed in natural methods and that I would be able to treat myself with the techniques she taught me, but told me to come back if things got worse. I didn't wanna be put on meds anyway so I was thankful that she was one of the rare doctors who didn't just shove a pill down my throat. The techniques worked like a charm anytime I felt an attack coming on and I still use the techniques today. Even though I found a solution for my panic attacks, the fact of the matter was that college B was not for me (yay rhymes.) One thing I didn't mention before was the cost of college B. This college was insanely expensive which is one thing I didn't realize until the end of my second year there. I didn't realize it because for the first few semesters, scholarships and grants covered most of the cost. At my second year, I started to have to take out really big student loans to be able to go there. This really weighed down on me because like I mentioned before, my family has never been wealthy. One of my biggest complaints about the whole college system is that I feel like they don't really talk about how much money you borrow and how much interest you'll eventually have to pay if you get student loans. Oh and you might have been wondering, but I did start seeing a school therapist. I think I started going to him around my second year at college B. He did help a lot, but like I said before....college B was not for me. My third year at college B was really unpleasant because I was realizing how much I really didn't like being there, but I tried to convince myself to stay because I really did not want to transfer again. Not that the transfer process was bad because it wasn't but because I thought that it was embarrassing. At the Spring semester of my third year, my maternal grandmother's health started to really decline. She had been diagnosed with congestive heart failure about 11 years prior and had to have multiple stents over the years. During finals of that semester and a few weeks before my 21st birthday, my grandmother passed away. I thought that my paternal grandmother dying had hit me hard, but this.....this was my second mother dying. I had had time to "prepare", but nothing could have prepared me. I could cry right now even though it's been five years. I just remember being completely and utterly crushed. I didn't care about school or anything...I just wanted my Memaw back. Fortunately, my professors told me I didn't have to take my finals then and that I could take them whenever I felt ready. A week later, my uncle (who has also been there my entire life and is like a father figure) was unjustly fired from his job. I could write a 20 page essay about that but basically it really, really sucked for him because not only did his mother die, but he lost his job and his only source of income. Long story short, things worked out really well for him, but I mention it because it's one of the things that really effected me at the time. The next week was my 21st birthday which to most people is supposed to be a really awesome time but...obviously it wasn't. My friends were really awesome and celebrated with me and I'll be forever grateful, but I was broken on the inside. Around the last week of June I took my finals and fortunately I passed all of them, but college B told me that because I had dropped quite a few classes during the semester (I tried to take 21 hours of classes....don't do that lol) that I would have to take a summer class. I looked at all of the classes available that summer, but all of the classes that were available that would be helpful towards my degree were classes I had already taken. So my only option was to go to another college and take a class there. This is where college C comes into the picture. My mom actually got her undergrad degree from college C. I never wanted to go to college C because I wanted to be unique and follow my own path, but as it turned out, college C was actually my favourite out of the three. It makes sense though because my mom and I are very similar. The thing about college C was that it was kind of a lot like the high school I went to, there were people from all walks of life, mostly middle class families who knew what it was to struggle. These were people that I could actually relate to and who were pretty friendly. This college was also less expensive....it wasn't cheap though because it was still a private college, but it was cheaper than college B. So I found a class to take at college C and it was by far one of my favourite classes I took in college. It was Brit lit and I loved all of the literature that we read, but what I loved even more was that there was hope there. One of the things I hated about college B was that the atmosphere was very negative there. I guaranteed that people would argue with me about that because there are some very sunshine-y people there, but for the most part a lot of people were just really pessimistic. I specifically remember people in my psych classes having multiple conversations saying, "It's kinda funny how we're getting this expensive degree and we'll never get a job out of it haha," or "My friend graduated with a psych degree three years ago and still hasn't found a job." The complete opposite was said at college C, the professor of that summer class talked a lot about how there are tons of things you can do with your degree and that it might take a little while to find a job, but that you'll find one soon enough. By the end of the class, I knew I wanted to transfer. Fortunately, even though it was like a week before classes started, they let me transfer. I won't say too much about college C because it was really positive experience. I enjoyed my classes and my classmates and professors were cool. I also went to the school therapist at college C who was really cool and helped me a lot. One of the most positive experiences at college C were the art classes. I hadn't taken any art classes for my minor at college A or B except for some art history classes at college B. Tbh, I hated the art history classes because the professor was not a nice person and her tests were insanely difficult. The art classes and professors at college C were fantastic though. It was kinda funny though...because almost all of my art professors at college C really wanted me to be an art major. I always declined though even though my heart was screaming at me to switch. I declined because of the same reason my mom had decided not to switch majors 30 years prior: I had already taken a truckload of psych classes and thought it wouldn't be a smart decision to switch so I didn't. Oh how I wish I would've switched lol It actually wouldn't have mattered if I had switched because I ended up having to spend 3 years at college C. Yes, it took me 8 years to graduate from college....tbh...it's beyond embarrassing for me to say that. I mean if somebody else told me that about themselves, I wouldn't think that was shameful or anything, but for me....I can't help but feel bad about myself for having taken that long. I know I shouldn't beat myself up for it, but...I just always feel terrible about it...I'm working on it though haha
So here I am....a college grad. I finally made it through. It's a huge relief to finally have my bachelor's. There were times when I felt I would never complete it, but I am really proud of myself for finishing. Going back to the first sentence of this book or whatever it is lol I don't regret have a degree, I just regret that it's in psychology. Again, I hate saying that. I feel like everything happens for a reason...I just don't know why. I have to say though that one of the benefits of having a degree in psych is that I have learned a lot about myself and about anxiety and depression. I'm in the process of writing an entry about my experience working in the psychology field, but the jist of it is that it's not a field I want to work in, says the person who has a degree in it haha If only I had known...
Right now I'm trying to figure out what steps to take. If it isn't obvious, I really want to do something with art, most likely graphic design, but I just don't know if I should pursue a Master's or BFA. To me, the "smart" decision would be to go with the grad degree, but from past experience, "smart" decisions have had bad results. But I can't deny the positives of going for a grad program: it wouldn't take as long, I'm guessing I would get paid more when I get a job in the field of art, and I would get a tax credit. My only concern about taking the grad path is that I'm not sure if I have enough of a background in art to succeed in a grad program. At college C, the art classes I took were: Design Basics, Photoshop I, Illustrator I, Photography I, Drawing I, and Painting I. Plus the Art History courses I took at college B. I've never put a portfolio together in my life and have no idea where I would start with that. The appeal of getting a BFA in art would be that I feel like I have more of a chance at succeeding and that from what I've seen, most jobs in art that I would be interested in only want you to have some kind of undergrad degree in art. Which is really different from psych...most psych jobs that actually pay decently are jobs where you have to have a master's, more likely a doctorate's. Regardless of what degree I'm going to pursue, I'm planning on visiting universities this summer to kind of get a feel for what they have to offer.
I feel so much better getting all of this out lol Nobody's ever going to read this haha but I don't care....at least I have it all written down :P
P.S. You may be wondering why I'm not pursuing art therapy, because it makes sense....art + psychology = art therapy, right? A ton of people have suggested this. The thing is, after having worked as a therapist, I've pretty much concluded that art therapy, or any therapy occupation for that matter, isn't for me. It's strange to say because I've spent years thinking that one day I'll be a therapist, but that's not my goal now. Like I mentioned above, I'm working on an entry about working as a therapist. I've got a lot of editing to do just because of confidentiality, but I do really want to post something.
I think a lot about what I should've done differently, which I'm sure everybody does at one point or another. Like if I could go back in time to my 18 year old self, I would say definitely still go to your first semester of college, but then go back home and work for a few years. Then when you're 21 go enroll at this local college (that's a whole lot cheaper than the places I went) and stay there for 2 years. Then transfer to an art school and major in art with a concentration in graphic design. If only....if only.
For my entire life people have told me that a career in art would be stupid and a plan for failure. Everyone said that the correct path would be something practical, like a degree in business, science, education, or....psychology. When I say everyone I mean teachers/professors, advisors, fellow classmates, family members, and just anyone I spoke with about college. My mom always told me though that I need to choose whatever God is leading me towards. She chose the "wrong" major in college too so she's always been a big advocate of going with where you feel lead to go. She got an undergrad and grad degree in education, specifically special ed. She was a teacher for about 10 years, but never felt totally in love with it. She said that at the end of her sophomore year of college she felt like she should change her major to psychology (ironic? haha), but that she felt it was too late to change majors so she stuck with education. About 5 years ago she decided to go back to school to get her grad degree in counseling, what she should've done all along. Counseling was right for her, but not right for me. My mom tried it and loved it, I tried it and hated it. But that's what my degree is in, I can't go back to change it.
So...getting back on track haha. I went with psychology even though in my heart I knew I wanted to go with art because it's what I've loved my entire life. Ever since preschool, I've loved to draw and I've loved everything about art. I remember in elementary school checking out Serendipity and American Girl books from the library because of the beautiful art (the stories were good too haha) and wished that one day I could draw like that. In middle school and high school, I took art classes and was praised for my art, but as I said before very few people in my life actually supported me in pursuing a degree or career in art. When I got to college, as I've said like 5 times lol, I chose my major as psychology, but I did minor in art. But again, if I could go back and change things, I would have majored in art and probably minored in psychology.
I'm gonna talk about my college experience now....it's gonna take a long time to explain so...get ready for a long story lol So... I actually went to three colleges which personally I feel like is a lot but...that's what happened. I'm gonna label them college A, B, and C so it's not confusing. The first college I went to, college A, was my "dream college" and I enjoyed it at first because I was 18 and I was excited about being away from home and doing my own thing. There were major problems though. The first thing was that college A was on top of a mountain and I didn't have a car. I'm sure most of you are thinking "well why don't you just ask people for a ride?" The problem with this was that I was extremely shy and hated asking people anything at all. Another thing was that very few people were actually willing to give someone a ride unless you were their BFF. Whenever I gathered up the courage to ask someone they almost always had some sort of excuse. I don't blame (most) of them because I think what happened was the bystander effect (I guess my psych degree is helpful for something? lol) If you don't know, the bystander effect basically is assuming that someone else will get the job done. So if you see a homeless man begging for money, you might think "oh, someone else will give him money" then you walk on. So I feel like most of the people I asked for a ride assumed that someone else would give me a ride. Another problem I had during my first year of college was that I had severe depression and anxiety. It came on slowly and not knowing much about psychology at the time, I didn't recognize what I was going through. I was depressed and anxious for a variety of reasons, primarily because I was incredibly lonely. As I said before, I was extremely shy and have never been good at starting conversations. I did make a few friends, but a lot of those friends left after the first semester. At the beginning of the second semester, I only had one friend that I didn't get to see very often. Plus it was winter and I was on top of a very, very cold mountain. All of this combined and the depression set in. I skipped class a lot and started failing classes. I just couldn't get out of bed, only to eat, go to the bathroom, and get online. My psych professor and advisor asked to meet with me and basically told me that I wasn't college material and that he could write a letter to my mom to tell her that. I don't care who you are, but you should never tell anyone that, ever, especially not to someone who was extremely depressed at the time. In some ways though...he was right, but he should've worded it differently...he should've said that I wasn't ready for college at that time. I went back to my room feeling even more terrible about myself. A few days later, I got a call from my mom who told me that my paternal grandmother had passed away. I was incredibly shocked by this. I was never particularly close to her because she lived far away and I had only seen her maybe five times in my life, but it still hit me really hard, especially when I heard how she died. Apparently, the year before she had been diagnosed with breast cancer, but she chose not to receive treatment which may seem crazy to almost everyone, but she had a reason. About 5 years before she was diagnosed, her son/my uncle had passed away from lung cancer. My uncle had no idea he had lung cancer until one day his lungs suddenly collapsed and the doctor told him that he had stage 4 lung cancer and didn't have long to live. They told him treatment wouldn't do much good, plus he couldn't afford it. He lived two more years, but he struggled through them. The last time I saw him before he died he looked like a 90 year old man, completely hairless and didn't have a pound of fat on him. He was just 45. Having seen her son go through the horrors of cancer, my grandmother didn't want to put anyone else through the heartbreak of seeing their loved ones slowly die. So she told no one. I was heartbroken for her knowing she suffered with this death sentence by herself. I don't blame her for not receiving treatment or not telling anyone, but....I think anyone would wish there was something they could've done. So a week later was the last week of February and it was time for Spring break. My mom came to pick me up and the second she walked in my dorm room, I started bawling. I told her how miserable I was and that I didn't know what was wrong with me. I told her I just wanted to go home...not just for break, but for the semester. My mom was shocked and didn't quite understand, but she's always been a good mom and told me that everything was going to be okay. That spring and summer was not pleasant. I was at home and with my friends and family, but my maternal grandmother bothered the heck out of me the entire time. Unlike my paternal grandmother, I was actually extremely close to my maternal grandmother. We lived in the same town and she was in my life ever since I was born until the day she died. She was an amazing grandmother and person, but she did have one big flaw...she was extremely controlling. My grandma also grew up in the great depression so she didn't really recognize depression as an illness. She was always taught that depression or anxiety are things that you just have to get rid of and go on with life. When I came home, I was recovering and still wasn't doing a lot other than reading, playing video games, and getting online. I was also internally processing what exactly went on at college A and kind of psychoanalyzing myself. My grandmother also believed that everyone should be active all of the time and wasn't okay with me sitting down and "doing nothing" so she scolded me constantly and we had a lot of arguments at the time. That summer, my mom asked me if I wanted to go to a local college, I said I did because I didn't know what else to do and I was determined to not be a "failure." That was actually a really, really bad decision. I was in no shape to start college again. Like I said above, I should have just started working and gotten therapy, but I didn't and I suffered because of it. I enrolled at college B and went there for 3 years. To be honest, I was still depressed and anxious the entire time but I tried to convince myself that I wasn't which isn't something anyone should do lol I did poorly in a lot of classes there because of a lot of the same reasons I had with the first college. I was still suffering from depression and anxiety...more so anxiety (I'll go more into detail a little bit later), I was still super shy and didn't start conversations, and a new problem, I didn't really like a lot of the students at this college lol The students....a lot of them were rich and privileged white kids who had gone to private schools. I was not that type of person, I came from a single parent, middle-low class home. Plus I'm a nerd and even though there were some nerds there, I just didn't really click with them for some reason. Going back to anxiety, I started having panic attacks around this time. Again, I didn't really recognize what they were at first. I just thought that maybe I was getting high blood pressure or that something was wrong with my heart. The panic attacks were small at first, I would have small bouts of heart palpitations, but as time went on the heart palpitations lasted for longer amounts of time and I would also get shortness of breath. I didn't go to the doctor until I had a panic attack that lasted on and off for 3 days straight. Fortunately, my doctor recognized it right away, but she did an EKG anyway to rule out that it wasn't a heart problem. The doctor came into my room and said "Okay, I want you to breathe with me" which I thought was strange but I did what she said. She went through a basic breathing technique with me....inhale for 5 seconds..hold for 5 seconds...exhale for 5 seconds and repeat. My panic attack immediately stopped. I was amazed. She told me that she wasn't going to prescribe me to any medication because she believed in natural methods and that I would be able to treat myself with the techniques she taught me, but told me to come back if things got worse. I didn't wanna be put on meds anyway so I was thankful that she was one of the rare doctors who didn't just shove a pill down my throat. The techniques worked like a charm anytime I felt an attack coming on and I still use the techniques today. Even though I found a solution for my panic attacks, the fact of the matter was that college B was not for me (yay rhymes.) One thing I didn't mention before was the cost of college B. This college was insanely expensive which is one thing I didn't realize until the end of my second year there. I didn't realize it because for the first few semesters, scholarships and grants covered most of the cost. At my second year, I started to have to take out really big student loans to be able to go there. This really weighed down on me because like I mentioned before, my family has never been wealthy. One of my biggest complaints about the whole college system is that I feel like they don't really talk about how much money you borrow and how much interest you'll eventually have to pay if you get student loans. Oh and you might have been wondering, but I did start seeing a school therapist. I think I started going to him around my second year at college B. He did help a lot, but like I said before....college B was not for me. My third year at college B was really unpleasant because I was realizing how much I really didn't like being there, but I tried to convince myself to stay because I really did not want to transfer again. Not that the transfer process was bad because it wasn't but because I thought that it was embarrassing. At the Spring semester of my third year, my maternal grandmother's health started to really decline. She had been diagnosed with congestive heart failure about 11 years prior and had to have multiple stents over the years. During finals of that semester and a few weeks before my 21st birthday, my grandmother passed away. I thought that my paternal grandmother dying had hit me hard, but this.....this was my second mother dying. I had had time to "prepare", but nothing could have prepared me. I could cry right now even though it's been five years. I just remember being completely and utterly crushed. I didn't care about school or anything...I just wanted my Memaw back. Fortunately, my professors told me I didn't have to take my finals then and that I could take them whenever I felt ready. A week later, my uncle (who has also been there my entire life and is like a father figure) was unjustly fired from his job. I could write a 20 page essay about that but basically it really, really sucked for him because not only did his mother die, but he lost his job and his only source of income. Long story short, things worked out really well for him, but I mention it because it's one of the things that really effected me at the time. The next week was my 21st birthday which to most people is supposed to be a really awesome time but...obviously it wasn't. My friends were really awesome and celebrated with me and I'll be forever grateful, but I was broken on the inside. Around the last week of June I took my finals and fortunately I passed all of them, but college B told me that because I had dropped quite a few classes during the semester (I tried to take 21 hours of classes....don't do that lol) that I would have to take a summer class. I looked at all of the classes available that summer, but all of the classes that were available that would be helpful towards my degree were classes I had already taken. So my only option was to go to another college and take a class there. This is where college C comes into the picture. My mom actually got her undergrad degree from college C. I never wanted to go to college C because I wanted to be unique and follow my own path, but as it turned out, college C was actually my favourite out of the three. It makes sense though because my mom and I are very similar. The thing about college C was that it was kind of a lot like the high school I went to, there were people from all walks of life, mostly middle class families who knew what it was to struggle. These were people that I could actually relate to and who were pretty friendly. This college was also less expensive....it wasn't cheap though because it was still a private college, but it was cheaper than college B. So I found a class to take at college C and it was by far one of my favourite classes I took in college. It was Brit lit and I loved all of the literature that we read, but what I loved even more was that there was hope there. One of the things I hated about college B was that the atmosphere was very negative there. I guaranteed that people would argue with me about that because there are some very sunshine-y people there, but for the most part a lot of people were just really pessimistic. I specifically remember people in my psych classes having multiple conversations saying, "It's kinda funny how we're getting this expensive degree and we'll never get a job out of it haha," or "My friend graduated with a psych degree three years ago and still hasn't found a job." The complete opposite was said at college C, the professor of that summer class talked a lot about how there are tons of things you can do with your degree and that it might take a little while to find a job, but that you'll find one soon enough. By the end of the class, I knew I wanted to transfer. Fortunately, even though it was like a week before classes started, they let me transfer. I won't say too much about college C because it was really positive experience. I enjoyed my classes and my classmates and professors were cool. I also went to the school therapist at college C who was really cool and helped me a lot. One of the most positive experiences at college C were the art classes. I hadn't taken any art classes for my minor at college A or B except for some art history classes at college B. Tbh, I hated the art history classes because the professor was not a nice person and her tests were insanely difficult. The art classes and professors at college C were fantastic though. It was kinda funny though...because almost all of my art professors at college C really wanted me to be an art major. I always declined though even though my heart was screaming at me to switch. I declined because of the same reason my mom had decided not to switch majors 30 years prior: I had already taken a truckload of psych classes and thought it wouldn't be a smart decision to switch so I didn't. Oh how I wish I would've switched lol It actually wouldn't have mattered if I had switched because I ended up having to spend 3 years at college C. Yes, it took me 8 years to graduate from college....tbh...it's beyond embarrassing for me to say that. I mean if somebody else told me that about themselves, I wouldn't think that was shameful or anything, but for me....I can't help but feel bad about myself for having taken that long. I know I shouldn't beat myself up for it, but...I just always feel terrible about it...I'm working on it though haha
So here I am....a college grad. I finally made it through. It's a huge relief to finally have my bachelor's. There were times when I felt I would never complete it, but I am really proud of myself for finishing. Going back to the first sentence of this book or whatever it is lol I don't regret have a degree, I just regret that it's in psychology. Again, I hate saying that. I feel like everything happens for a reason...I just don't know why. I have to say though that one of the benefits of having a degree in psych is that I have learned a lot about myself and about anxiety and depression. I'm in the process of writing an entry about my experience working in the psychology field, but the jist of it is that it's not a field I want to work in, says the person who has a degree in it haha If only I had known...
Right now I'm trying to figure out what steps to take. If it isn't obvious, I really want to do something with art, most likely graphic design, but I just don't know if I should pursue a Master's or BFA. To me, the "smart" decision would be to go with the grad degree, but from past experience, "smart" decisions have had bad results. But I can't deny the positives of going for a grad program: it wouldn't take as long, I'm guessing I would get paid more when I get a job in the field of art, and I would get a tax credit. My only concern about taking the grad path is that I'm not sure if I have enough of a background in art to succeed in a grad program. At college C, the art classes I took were: Design Basics, Photoshop I, Illustrator I, Photography I, Drawing I, and Painting I. Plus the Art History courses I took at college B. I've never put a portfolio together in my life and have no idea where I would start with that. The appeal of getting a BFA in art would be that I feel like I have more of a chance at succeeding and that from what I've seen, most jobs in art that I would be interested in only want you to have some kind of undergrad degree in art. Which is really different from psych...most psych jobs that actually pay decently are jobs where you have to have a master's, more likely a doctorate's. Regardless of what degree I'm going to pursue, I'm planning on visiting universities this summer to kind of get a feel for what they have to offer.
I feel so much better getting all of this out lol Nobody's ever going to read this haha but I don't care....at least I have it all written down :P
P.S. You may be wondering why I'm not pursuing art therapy, because it makes sense....art + psychology = art therapy, right? A ton of people have suggested this. The thing is, after having worked as a therapist, I've pretty much concluded that art therapy, or any therapy occupation for that matter, isn't for me. It's strange to say because I've spent years thinking that one day I'll be a therapist, but that's not my goal now. Like I mentioned above, I'm working on an entry about working as a therapist. I've got a lot of editing to do just because of confidentiality, but I do really want to post something.