As my second year at university is fast coming to an end, it has occurred to me that I really need to start paving out a career path or at least have one in mind as a goal to work towards. So I sat myself down and had a little think about where I wanted to be in life in a few years time. It was at that point where it hit me like a ton of bricks.
I have no idea what I want in life.
I don't know about you, but that seriously freaked me out on so many levels I'm not entirely sure I can portray it all in words. I thrive on the fact I need control and a considerable amount of forward planning in my life; if something is written down on paper it has to be done. This is probably what pushed me towards my little breakdown at approximately midnight tonight - clearly the prime-time for a meltdown as the noise outside my window seemed to echo my thoughts.
Considering I spent a few years before I ventured to the big mess that is university, and sat down and literally planned out on paper the next few years of my life, I don't think I could have got it more wrong. At that stage of planning it included getting decent A Level grades (done!) and passing my driving test (also done!), and finding my Prince Charming (still pending). And then it came down to the big daunting word of university. My 16 year old self freaked out probably a fraction less than my current 20 year old self is doing now 4 years down the line. What did I want to do at university? What job did I really want in the future? What would get the most pay? What am I really good at?
This is where I wish my 20 year old self could intervene - there is one question that I completely ignored and didn't even think to ask myself:
What do I love doing?
I feel like if I had asked myself that question I wouldn't be sat here at 1:15am freaking out about what I am going to do this time next year when my university career comes to an end.
My 16 year old self realised I had always been interested in law. Naturally I selected this as one of my A Levels and was pretty happy when I became actually quite good at it, with my teacher saying to be one day that I have "the brain of the lawyer" (although I am not too sure whether that is a good thing or not...).
The first year of my A Levels dragged but soon it was exam time. I excelled in my law and psychology exams, and did average on my French and English literature exams. It was at this point where I took the drastic decision of changing my mind from dropping French to dropping English literature. This is where my 20 year old self would most likely drop kick my 17 year old self. I continued doing law, French, psychology and also picked up a dissertation style project counting as another A Level. I ended up coming out of sixth form with the grades BBBC. Although these are pretty good grades, and I got more than enough to get into university, I still wasn't happy.
After hours upon hours of trawling through endless websites about degrees I found myself torn between two: LLB Law, and Bsc(Hons) Criminology and Criminal Justice Studies. At first I had my heart set on a law degree which I could then expand on with the graduate training programs and soon be a fully qualified lawyer.
Reality check time.
It wasn't that easy, and I soon discovered that it is almost impossible for that to actually happen. So I moved on from that dream. I realised that 80% of my law A Level focused on criminal law so it seemed only logical do take on a criminology degree. I passed my first year with a high 2:1 after getting two 1st's in my end of year exams and so I continued on to my second year.
That brings me to today - May 2 2014 - and I am only now realising that I am an idiot. Before you say it no, I am not being harsh on myself. I realised that I neglected to ask myself that one question 4 years ago which would have spared me a hell of a lot of anger, tears, and frustration.
I had thrown away my dream because I thought it would go nowhere.
I had always loved writing; by the age of 10 I had a published poem and I had always been scribbling down little stories on scrap bits of paper. I got my first computer (way back when they were as big as an apartment) which at the time had only Microsoft Word, Paint, and that crappy pinball game on it. I found myself quickly learning to touch-type in order to write multiple stories on my new pride and joy.
Here I am now, almost 21 years old using my blog as a place to vent to a load of people on the internet who probably don't care about this endless rant about my life and want my old posts back. I started this blog almost a year ago to rant to anyone who would listen to me, but I found that it reignited my love for writing and I am now working on an original novel.
Why am I not perusing this as a career after university? Why do I keep letting my dream float out the window? What can I do to figure all this out?
That is currently my state of mind - a never-ending list of questions rolling around in my mind just waiting for someone to answer them. It seems I am not the one to answer them considering I can't even figure out what I want for breakfast in the morning. So if anyone could actually help that would be great.
I need to figure out what I want in life, and why on earth I chose to do this stupid criminology degree instead of something to do with writing. Maybe I should also figure out why I am such a mong at the same time, or create a revolutionary cure for cancer, or discover that there are actually blue polka-dotted frogs on Pluto. I mean, is it too much to ask to be a somebody?
As always thank you for reading, and I promise once these dreaded exams are over that I will be publishing more frequently again.
All my social media bits and bobs are over on the right at just the push of a button - don't be lazy like me, click them!
I will speak to you lovelies soon.