Making Hard Choices: Mental Health at Uni.

It’s Monday again!  Today’s choice is a bit of a heavy one, so feel free to skip it if it’s not what you’re into.  Why not try these cupcakes instead?

Today I took the long train journey back to uni after a relaxing weekend back at home with my dog.  And my family, but mainly my dog.  I have apparently spent enough money at Pumpkin Café lately to score a free coffee, so I vanilla-latte-d myself up and we were good to go.  Or so I thought.

I love train journeys.  The rocking of the train is soothing, and I love to go through new towns and imagine what it must be like to walk those roads.  It’s like an escape.

And it was.  Right until I stepped off the train in the station and I just went cold all over.  It was like the air in the station turned grey and smothering and I could feel it pressing down on my head, on my shoulders.  Oh well, maybe it was just the change of air going from a long train journey to the open air of the station.  I got on the bus and took the familiar trip back to my house.  I opened the door, dragged my suitcase through the mess in the kitchen and up to my room, where I closed the door behind me.

And then the weight got heavier and I sat on my bed and tried really hard not to cry because I realised that I had just locked myself in a prison.

It made me realise my dilemma again.  My dilemma of “should I just pack in my MA and go home or should I stay”.  My dilemma that I feel really shit about having spent a good hour convincing my housemate not to quit her degree last week and it came down to a coin flip.  She’s ended up staying.

A coin flip.  That’s what her future hung on.  Her entire future, her hopes and dreams, and it’s so hypocritical of me to say so but I could never pin mine on something so – well, flippant as a coin toss.

This year has been one of the worst of my life.  I realised that at the weekend I was unconsciously seriously considering  missing my train and never going back.  An MA is fucking hard, and I am seriously doubting my ability to succeed in the translation world – in the world in general, and it’s just swamping me so much.  I feel like I’m just floating, untethered to anything in this existence.  I feel so detached from everything.  I can’t concentrate – but

Pretty much since 6th form I’ve wanted to translate.  That’s what I enjoy doing, that’s what’s fun for me.  Until I did an MA in it.  All the jobs I want to do require one, but there’s so much theory and philosophy and I am so so so shit at it.  Especially with a head full of smoke.  I just want to translate.  But I don’t want to be in translation.  Or anything really.

But I made the decision.

I made the decision to do the MA.  I made the decision to stick with it.  And I made the decision to catch my train and come back.

And I don’t know if that was the right choice but if I quit I’ll be so disappointed in myself.  The last 10 months of planning and doing will have been a waste, will have been for nothing, not to mention all the money I’ve already spent on this year.  Can’t live with it, can’t live without it.

tl;dr: MAs are hard and so is living with depression and anxiety.

hope everyone’s ok out there.



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