I'm so desparate I want to cry
I'm experiencing clashing emotions since I moved and started college classes and all that. Unfortunately, when I feel this conflicted, overwhelming depression tends to override anything positive I might be feeling.
Mostly I just can't help but think I'm here for the wrong reasons. People ask me why I majored in business and if I answered honestly, I'd tell them, "Because my Dad pressured me to." And its not that he told me I had to take business; he pressured making money, paying off loans and finding a good job. He doesn't fancy the starving artist lifestyle. For that matter, I've never been particularly proud of my artistic capabilities, although most people say I should be.
There are some benefits to business. I'll be able to aid my siblings, all of whom seem to envisions small businesses of their own, whether it be a design studio, a massage therapy practice or a high end cafe. I can even see myself having something, I don't know what exactly, maybe a bike shop.
I don't see myself the boss type. I've got all kinds of leadership skills, and I can manage well if I care about the project. The problem though, I don't feel qualified in any field to be top dog. My actually skill is irrelevant, I always assume I'm not as good as the person next to me. In the same way I always assume I'm the youngest person in the room. Being the youngest of four siblings, I've always been the youngest, and that stigma has applied itself to social situations. I've always been second place, at best, and that seems to dominate decisions I make about even trying.
I have a few exceptions, a few noteworthy accomplishments, but I feel so removed from them by time that I can't brag about them. How pathetic do I sound boasting my eighth grade state records. "Yeah, I was good once."
Maybe its that people see what I have done, and set that as standard for everything else I do, and I always feel like I fall short. I'm Mom and Dad's big hope. If I don't make a million dollars and fund their retirement, and all of my siblings exploits, they'll be disappointed... in my head.
In trying to fulfill their goal of raising not-fuck-ups I enrolled in the Business college. I haven't started and business specific classes yet, but I dread it. I hate where I'll be in ten years, but it seems so inevitable that I won't be happy. People ask me if I'm happy, and I wish I could stop lying to them.
[I don't want people to read this. I don't want anyone to know I feel vulnerable. But I want them to step forward and be there for me. I'm conditioned that way.]
I'm unhappy because I don't think I can be happy. I feel like by chance I've been denied all the opportunities to make myself happy. But I quit early. When I didn't make it into Miller, I figured it was hopeless. I didn't even apply because I was afraid of the rejection letter. And it would have been mostly pointless anyway. If I had been accepted to USC, I couldn't have paid for it anyway. I hate my dad for that.
That's all I want, though. I want to go to the same film school as George Lucas, Robert Zemeckis and Steven Spielberg, in the facilities named after them. I want to direct films, produce films and write screenplays. I really enjoy reading, because as I read I write the screenplay in my head, I pick the actors and I score a soundtrack. As I go through my day, I imagine what the scene would look like in a movie, what I would change to make it cooler. I even try to make my life feel like a movie. Its just what I want to do, and it probably won't ever happen.
I haven't given up completely. I could make something out of my dream at UofH. I could use business as a back ass way to get into the film industry, maybe as a producer. Or maybe UofH offers something I could translate more directly into film.
If I don't, I'll hate myself and my parents forever.
[werd]
Mostly I just can't help but think I'm here for the wrong reasons. People ask me why I majored in business and if I answered honestly, I'd tell them, "Because my Dad pressured me to." And its not that he told me I had to take business; he pressured making money, paying off loans and finding a good job. He doesn't fancy the starving artist lifestyle. For that matter, I've never been particularly proud of my artistic capabilities, although most people say I should be.
There are some benefits to business. I'll be able to aid my siblings, all of whom seem to envisions small businesses of their own, whether it be a design studio, a massage therapy practice or a high end cafe. I can even see myself having something, I don't know what exactly, maybe a bike shop.
I don't see myself the boss type. I've got all kinds of leadership skills, and I can manage well if I care about the project. The problem though, I don't feel qualified in any field to be top dog. My actually skill is irrelevant, I always assume I'm not as good as the person next to me. In the same way I always assume I'm the youngest person in the room. Being the youngest of four siblings, I've always been the youngest, and that stigma has applied itself to social situations. I've always been second place, at best, and that seems to dominate decisions I make about even trying.
I have a few exceptions, a few noteworthy accomplishments, but I feel so removed from them by time that I can't brag about them. How pathetic do I sound boasting my eighth grade state records. "Yeah, I was good once."
Maybe its that people see what I have done, and set that as standard for everything else I do, and I always feel like I fall short. I'm Mom and Dad's big hope. If I don't make a million dollars and fund their retirement, and all of my siblings exploits, they'll be disappointed... in my head.
In trying to fulfill their goal of raising not-fuck-ups I enrolled in the Business college. I haven't started and business specific classes yet, but I dread it. I hate where I'll be in ten years, but it seems so inevitable that I won't be happy. People ask me if I'm happy, and I wish I could stop lying to them.
[I don't want people to read this. I don't want anyone to know I feel vulnerable. But I want them to step forward and be there for me. I'm conditioned that way.]
I'm unhappy because I don't think I can be happy. I feel like by chance I've been denied all the opportunities to make myself happy. But I quit early. When I didn't make it into Miller, I figured it was hopeless. I didn't even apply because I was afraid of the rejection letter. And it would have been mostly pointless anyway. If I had been accepted to USC, I couldn't have paid for it anyway. I hate my dad for that.
That's all I want, though. I want to go to the same film school as George Lucas, Robert Zemeckis and Steven Spielberg, in the facilities named after them. I want to direct films, produce films and write screenplays. I really enjoy reading, because as I read I write the screenplay in my head, I pick the actors and I score a soundtrack. As I go through my day, I imagine what the scene would look like in a movie, what I would change to make it cooler. I even try to make my life feel like a movie. Its just what I want to do, and it probably won't ever happen.
I haven't given up completely. I could make something out of my dream at UofH. I could use business as a back ass way to get into the film industry, maybe as a producer. Or maybe UofH offers something I could translate more directly into film.
If I don't, I'll hate myself and my parents forever.
[werd]