The Real World, AKA Hell

I don’t want to depend on the future for happiness. I want to learn how to appreciate the present so that I can find beauty in it and be happy now. It’s an effort to think this way because my mind automatically thinks that I need a job right now to be happy. A job pays for everything – and right now it seems like money would solve my concerns in wanting to move to a new city by myself. I think that I want to move to another city as a way to escape my current reality. After I graduated from college this June, things got terribly worse. I’m still living in the anxiety of what to do with my life. They say do what you love, and I am – I’m writing. I’m writing now, and I find solace in it, but the truth is that I need money to take care of myself, to do better things for myself, and at the moment writing isn’t financially supporting me. I’ve learned a lot so far about the so-called real life. When I lived in the anxiety of what am I going to do after I graduate even when I was still in college, I’d pick my professors’ brains to seek advice. It was a bad idea talking to mainly English professors because we had depressing conversations about grad school. I know they were giving me practical advice because nonchalantly going to grad school for English can result into a disaster, but I felt even more discouraged and stuck, when all I wanted was to find ways to explore me taking that route. One professor of mine assured me that there’s nothing wrong with trying out different jobs to figure out what you really like instead of going to grad school just because you don’t know what to do, but so far on job interviews I’ve learned that employers seek true, strong passion in applicants. I can have genuine curiosity and the will and desire to learn more about the job, but it seems like all employers just seek applicants that they don’t have to train, which brings me to this. I currently am doing some internships that I absolutely abhor because they’re unrelated to what I want to do and they don’t pay well – hardly, actually. I’m gritting my teeth each day during work, trying to believe that there is worth in what I’m doing. It’s really, really hard for me to believe that, though. Although I’ve said I don’t know what I want to do, I know what I don’t want to do. I know that all employers want the person that they hire to have some job experience, so that’s why I’m committing to my internships. I’ve had to swallow my pride, one that was strengthened by the fact that I worked hard to get into a reputable university and worked hard again and again to graduate well from it. I thought doing so would allow me to avoid all this pain that I’m trying to endure now. I thought it had worth, and maybe it does – I tend to get a bit dramatic and because I’m impatient it’s difficult for me to be logical in my thinking sometimes. My mind tries to find some kind of relief from the daily stress by thinking: what if? What if I had gone to grad school? What if I go now? But my passion isn’t there right now. I don’t know if it’s been buried by fear of being in debt and returning back to the very place that I’m at now only poorer and sadder, but I don’t have the will to find out. I’ve just got to remind myself that everything is going to be ok, to have faith in the future, but I want to have faith in knowing that what I’m doing right now has worth. It just all seems meaningless to me. It doesn’t help that my friends are in law or med schools and I’m trying to disprove people that English majors are failures, even though no one told me or implied to me that they were – I’m just thinking that because I feel like one although my pride won’t stand it when I do. I can say this completely separated from how shitty I feel, though: I don’t regret having majored in English. Even if it doesn’t have real worth in the real world, I don’t care because I give it worth by believing that it has worth. And I do because I truly loved it in college. If only I could see my present in this way – I’d be more at peace. I used to live life believing that everything happens for a reason and because it hasn’t gone right for me these past months, it’s been really hard to believe in that. I know that finding peace is ultimately dependent on how you think of things and I know that how I’m organizing my thoughts isn’t bringing me happiness, but I’m trying to hang on just by existing so that I can develop the strength to try, to be fearless, to take risks.

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