The Big Scary F Word…

Well now I’m in third year I’m constantly thinking about the same thing over and over again. By this, I’m talking about the future. That word that people in the first and second year kind of always talk about, but we never really expected to come around so fast. I thought I had it all sorted out, that I would just wait this degree out and then go and teach at a primary school. Then uni happened, and I suddenly understood that that wasn’t really what I wanted to do. I suddenly refound my love for writing etc, that I had constantly pushed aside out of fear. I really wanted to do my own thing.

In reality my dreams of being a teacher had probably been mainly down to looking back at the people I had admired when I was younger, and how I wanted to be like them when I grew up. Well, that and the fact that I just wanted to go back to school, and just play heads down thumbs up with all the children. The whole idea of actually being the grown up in the room terrified me, and when I asked lots of people, they just couldn’t imagine me being a teacher. It was about then that I decided to try and work out what else I would do with my life. This is an issue that I’m still trying to face now, and it’s getting to a point where in my head I need to decide like right this minute, and actually stick to it. I swear it shouldn’t be this hard. I speak to all my friends, and they’re just like ‘I’ll think about it later” but that just doesn’t work for me. If I don’t have a long-time/mid-term plan it stresses me to the point where I can sleep at night, and I just turn into a zombie.

I mean, I kind of have the idea that I can do anything I put my mind to, but at the same time I worry about this continuously. I mean, I’m very good at starting things, but I’m never really good at finishing them. I mean, I mentioned in an earlier post that I would love to do music or writing YA for a living, but really I’m worried that I won’t actually be able to ever do this, as I still doubt myself so much. It’s like there’s this devil continuously on my shoulder just telling me that I won’t ever be able to do that. I mean, I have stories to tell, I just find the sitting down and actually writing it all a very difficult thing to do, because of the whingy spoilt brat which my brain has turned into. It wants to know how this is exactly going to help me with my life, and just continuously asks for proof that it will do what I’m hoping it will. Unless I can do both of those things, it just won’t go away.

I worry constantly that I’m not as good as everybody else, and peer review just stresses me out even more, as I can clearly see that I’m not as good as everybody else. Anyway, that’s not really where I’m going with this.

I just wish I could have a clear idea of what I will do in the future, or to just forget about the fact that the future even exists. Grr… I might as well try to get to sleep, because it’s not like I’m actually going to find the answer writing things on this blog.

Sarah…

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