The University Dilemma
Aug. 19th, 2013 06:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
beanstalk_simsIn a few weeks, I begin a pre-degree psychology course at the local college (I think Americans call it community college). And this is fine, because it moves me forwards, getting that piece of paper that makes me much more desirable as a student. And also, because my top choices for universities would not accept me with the A-Levels I already have - BCC. And this is all fine, and totally a good thing to do.
Then the university prospectuses start arriving in the post, and the time for applications is almost here...
And I am absolutely terrified.
I'm scared that it's going to go exactly the same way it did last time I went to uni - where I lasted two months before I called it quits. Where I had virtually no friends and was skipping classes. Where I got diagnosed with depression and shoved onto tablets for it.
I'm scared I'm going to end up in a flat with seven people who get on my nerves, like last time. I'm scared that they'll not like me because I'll be 21 by the time I go back to uni, and they'll all be 18. I'm scared that I'll end up on my own, with no friends again.
I'm scared that I won't understand my course, and I'll struggle, and have to leave because I'm too dumb to get past the academic textbooks. Last time I was at uni, studying English Lit, I couldn't understand what the hell the textbook was saying. How on earth am I going to cope in a subject I'm only just starting to study?
Then there's the whole leaving Rob, and family, and friends, and stuff. Mainly Rob. I survived last time by messaging, phoning and webcaming my family and friends, but I'm convinced I'll miss Rob so much more. The thing is, if I'm ever going to get through this, I'm going to have to move away from Rob for a little while, and I'm going to have to accept it.
That said, this time I'm not going as far. Last time I studied in Bangor, Wales, 400 miles from home. That may not seem like a lot, but the UK is very small, and that was pretty much the furthest I could get from home without moving to Scotland. This time, I've narrowed my choices down to two universities, one outside Brighton on the south coast, about four hours away, and one an hour away in the city. The one outside Brighton is my favourite.
And while I'm worried about all of that, I keep thinking about the positives. Like, even though I was miserable last time and I dropped out, I have a few good memories of the place. Afternoon drinks with Millie, watching Pirates of the Caribbean with Nathan, hearing some of the dumb crap my flatmates said when they're drunk, my poem being complimented in a seminar, my poetry classes, the walking and writing sessions. Talking to Paul, Chris, Ed, Anya...none of them will remember me, and why should they? I was gone within two months.
But even though it was one of the worst times of my life, I still have good memories from it. Which leads me to think "Well how bad can it be?" If the worst comes to the worst, I can hold my hands up and give it up, like I did last time. I survived, and I'd survive if I had to do it again.
And despite that revelation, I am still terrified.
I just needed to get it all out of my head.
Then the university prospectuses start arriving in the post, and the time for applications is almost here...
And I am absolutely terrified.
I'm scared that it's going to go exactly the same way it did last time I went to uni - where I lasted two months before I called it quits. Where I had virtually no friends and was skipping classes. Where I got diagnosed with depression and shoved onto tablets for it.
I'm scared I'm going to end up in a flat with seven people who get on my nerves, like last time. I'm scared that they'll not like me because I'll be 21 by the time I go back to uni, and they'll all be 18. I'm scared that I'll end up on my own, with no friends again.
I'm scared that I won't understand my course, and I'll struggle, and have to leave because I'm too dumb to get past the academic textbooks. Last time I was at uni, studying English Lit, I couldn't understand what the hell the textbook was saying. How on earth am I going to cope in a subject I'm only just starting to study?
Then there's the whole leaving Rob, and family, and friends, and stuff. Mainly Rob. I survived last time by messaging, phoning and webcaming my family and friends, but I'm convinced I'll miss Rob so much more. The thing is, if I'm ever going to get through this, I'm going to have to move away from Rob for a little while, and I'm going to have to accept it.
That said, this time I'm not going as far. Last time I studied in Bangor, Wales, 400 miles from home. That may not seem like a lot, but the UK is very small, and that was pretty much the furthest I could get from home without moving to Scotland. This time, I've narrowed my choices down to two universities, one outside Brighton on the south coast, about four hours away, and one an hour away in the city. The one outside Brighton is my favourite.
And while I'm worried about all of that, I keep thinking about the positives. Like, even though I was miserable last time and I dropped out, I have a few good memories of the place. Afternoon drinks with Millie, watching Pirates of the Caribbean with Nathan, hearing some of the dumb crap my flatmates said when they're drunk, my poem being complimented in a seminar, my poetry classes, the walking and writing sessions. Talking to Paul, Chris, Ed, Anya...none of them will remember me, and why should they? I was gone within two months.
But even though it was one of the worst times of my life, I still have good memories from it. Which leads me to think "Well how bad can it be?" If the worst comes to the worst, I can hold my hands up and give it up, like I did last time. I survived, and I'd survive if I had to do it again.
And despite that revelation, I am still terrified.
I just needed to get it all out of my head.
