On Feeling Left Behind.

I’ve talked a bit on here about my decision at 19 to drop out of University and then at 20 to enrol again at a different one. Long story short, I dropped out of University after only one semester because my mental health got really awful really quickly and I couldn’t cope living on my own, with the pressure of assignments over my head and nobody I was really close to yet to talk to about it. I worked for a year and a half at a couple of different jobs, and started University again somewhere else on a different course in September.

So, I’m 21 and just finishing my first year. It’s gone okay. University definitely isn’t what I’d call the best time of my life as it is for so many (at this point I actually in some ways preferred working full time in customer service … only in some ways though), but I’m coping and getting decent grades and have some good friends. I have no current plans of dropping out, and the end of my first year is within reaching distance.

However I’ve been feeling a bit shit about my whole situation recently. My Facebook feed, made up predominantly of people around my age group, obviously, has been filled for the last week with pictures of people handing in their dissertations and final papers, I’ve had conversations with many friends about graduation dates and going out into the world. And I guess I’ve just been feeling left behind and feeling rubbish about myself for not being in the same position they are.

Now I know on a level this is silly. Even if I had stayed at my original degree, I wouldn’t be graduating this year because it was a four year course (I would actually currently be in the USA on a year abroad right now, and to be honest I’m kind of thankful I’m not). I know that my decision to leave and take care of my mental health was the right one for me, and that taking care of myself is the first priority. I know that there are loads of people who take years out or drop out and go back after a few years. I know all these things, but it doesn’t stop me from feeling rubbish about myself.

Don’t get me wrong, I am so happy for my friends and I know I’m where I need to be. But there’s this feeling that as my friends are embarking on their Masters or going to work abroad or just out into the working world that I’m being left behind a bit. I won’t graduate until I’m at least 23 or 24, and even though I know I’ve had experiences they haven’t had and it’s not my fault, it just feels a bit crap sometimes. I know I shouldn’t compare my experiences to others, and despite all these rubbish feelings right now, I know in the long run I’m on the right track for me.

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Safe Space Talks University

University is a big change for a lot of people. At eighteen it is potentially your first time of being truly independent, the first time responsibility is placed on your shoulders. It is also full of other people in similar boats and people in different boats. It can be a scary and exciting thing all at the same time. So today a few of us Safe Spacers are here to tell you about our experiences with university.

Faye: Before I went to university I actually spent a year on my own in Canada so going to uni did not feel like a big step to me, not really. For once I would at least be in the same country as my mum. But University was an entirely different kettle of fish than Canada had been. In Canada I had a job and could more or less keep to myself. University was people all the time. It was social. It was drinking. It was loud. It was an adjustment. In my first year I experimented. I went out drinking with friends, flirted, danced, experienced. I did a little more of it in second year and by third I realised it just wasn’t me. I didn’t like partying. I didn’t like drinking. I didn’t feel comfortable in clubs and bars. So I stopped going. And I wish I had done that in first year. Because university doesn’t have to be all drinking and play, it can be about just being you and learning. And somewhere you should find someone who feels exactly the same way. So if you’re worried because you don’t particularly want to party, don’t let that stop you. Go to uni and just don’t party. It’ll be fine, I promise.

Ray: My university experience is actually still on-going even though I originally began my studies in 2009. It didn’t start well; I had to go through Clearing & ended up at Aberystwyth University way out in the wilds of Wales. Don’t get me wrong it’s a gorgeous place but it was 3 hours by train from home & I wasn’t exactly great at making friends. My course wasn’t what I’d hoped & I never even had a meeting with my personal tutor. I got pretty isolated and spent most of my time in my room on the internet (oh hang on…) so by the time I got into my second year my enjoyment for the course had plummeted and since I’d have to do a year abroad for my 3rd year I decided dropping out before I tanked my grades was the best option.

Fast forward to 2012 when I signed up to the Open University just before the fees hiked up to try and finish my degree the way I wanted, doing the modules which interested me. I recently started what should be my final module so if all goes to plan (and I don’t bugger everything up), I should have a Open Degree with Honours by next July. If I’m really lucky it’ll be a 2:1.

It’s been a slog, I’m atrocious at time management, particularly when I have all the free time in the world. Somehow I get more done when I’m working full time at a school, studying both for the OU & a TA diploma and trying to write a book - riddle me that would you kindly? If you are unfortunate enough to follow me on twitter then you might have seen the epic lengths I go to in procrastinating my assignments - I’m not exaggerating when I say that maybe 5 out the 7 essays I did for my module last year were almost entirely written either on the deadline day or the day before. I can’t imagine how I would’ve coped at a traditional Uni with a dissertation.

I wonder sometimes if I should have bothered with Uni at all. I went more because I felt I was expected to go, because I was “smart” and academically “gifted” although that basically means fuck all after the age of 12. For the most part I never got into the “student lifestyle” and it’s not something I ever really cared about. I cared more about the education aspect which is hilarious because I’ve since realised that I hate learning stuff only to be assessed on it and I’m a terrible student. Just let me read books on stuff, don’t ask me to write essays about it & certainly not essays in french. Don’t go to university because others expect it of you, go because it’s what you truly want to do.

Louise: Leaving home at eighteen was a daunting but exciting time for me. It was the first taste of proper freedom and I was going to relish it, I remember thinking on A Level results day. I was going to be moving 130 miles away to Norwich to study; I couldn't have picked a further away place to do my course if I tried. It also included studying abroad for a year, something that pulled me in event further when I applied.

But once I'd arrived in halls and realised just how far I was away from home and my creature comforts, the more daunted and scared I became. This wasn't normal was it, to feel overwhelmed by being alone for the first time, ever? 

That first semester was hard for me; I was studying something completely new to me, I began to regret my degree choice and wanted to drop out. I found it difficult to make friends with people on my course because I felt I knew nothing compared to them. My housemates were constantly out clubbing and I preferred films and good food – still do. I never confided how I felt to anyone, even when I returned home at Christmas, I didn't want to be seen as a failure. I'm glad I didn't because university life did get easier for me.

It was only when I came to realise that I could really find out who I was whilst being on my own here in a new city, learning new things, meeting new people, having new experiences. And I did just that, explore. I found out what I truly am capable of. My year abroad only strengthen that. Those years – from the tender age of eighteen all the way to a ripe twenty-two year old – shaped me. And even though many people would say that I have wasted my time and money on a degree I don't even use, I don't regret it for one second. My life would be infinitely different without my time at university mixed in there.

Lily: My University experience is a bit of a tumultuous one that is very much still ongoing, as I’m a few weeks into my second attempt at first year. I went to University at 18 in Sussex near Brighton, fresh out of school. My first few weeks were fun but nothing outstanding, and I was finding it hard to socialise with anyone in my flat and all my other friends lived elsewhere. About 5 weeks in my mental health took a turn for the worst and I knew I needed to get out. It wasn’t the responsibility or looking after myself that was the problem - I’d basically been doing that since I was 14. But the pressure of academic work was getting with me and I was feeling increasingly isolated. So I took the decision to leave University indefinitely and go out and work. Six months in, whilst working in the United States, I realised I did want to go back and study, but not quite yet. I had submitted an application to UCAS in January to appease my Dad and so I accepted a place at a University in the Midlands, but deferred for a year to give myself some time.

Three weeks ago and nearing the big 21st birthday I moved into halls again, ready for a fresh start. So far it has been good - I get on well with some of my flatmates, and have quite a few other friends in my building, the work has been relatively interesting and I’ve been keeping busy. I won’t lie when I say I’m a little worried about hitting that 5 week mark again, but this time already feels different. I have friends in my flat, I know how to handle my mental health, and I just keep telling myself, if I managed 3 months across the Atlantic by myself, I can surely manage 12 weeks a 3 hour drive away from home right?!

In all seriousness though, University is about balance. Sometimes you just don’t feel like or don’t have the time to go on that bar crawl. Sometimes you need to take a break from that deadline and go and eat some chocolate cake. Listening to yourself and what you need, and talking to others is so important.

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A Gap Year in Review: Change is Good.

I’ve been sitting in my new (and temporary) bedroom all day thinking how to put a post together talking about my time out of education. How do I summarise 20 months of working and travelling and adventures into one post? I can’t, realistically. So we’ll just talk about something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately.

My time out of education has taught me a lot and changed me as a person without a doubt. My stepmum even today commented on how different I was to the girl I was 2 years ago, about to go to University thinking it would be the best years of my life and would make everything better.

Well. It didn’t exactly go like that.

One Term. That’s how long I managed before all of the mental health crap I had been burying and burying throughout my GCSEs and A Levels came bubbling to the surface. It started off with bouts of sadness and self-hatred amongst other things. As I was leaving University, the crippling anxiety started that took over my life for six months. I was seeing a therapist for my grief at the time but we ended up mostly talking about my panic attacks.

And then I went to America. Three whole months of sun, summer and camping. Sounds great right? Well it was those things. But there were also tears, work reports, fighting and a lot of soul searching. My time at Camp was something I am eternally grateful for because it was what I needed, but it wasn’t all fun and games. And it was only after camp that I realised what it was that had been bothering me for so long.

I was completely stuck in the past. Long story short, and I’m sure I will make a more in depth post about this at some point, my mum died of cancer when I was 15 years old. She was my best friend. And I wanted to make her proud, even if she wasn’t here anymore to physically witness it. I wanted to be the girl I was when she was alive; bubbly, outgoing, lots of friends and very active. Since she passed away I had become more introverted and started staying in more talking to my friends online than going out on hikes and horse riding and all sorts.

I went to camp with all these expectations of making her proud, being a specialist counsellor who knew her stuff. It became apparent very quickly that after 4 years of barely being around horses, my knowledge was lacklustre and not up to scratch. They were pretty okay about it to be honest, offering me to change positions and when I look back on it I was rather rude. And it was because I felt like a failure, like I’d let her down and couldn’t be the person I was.

I know now that people grow. We change and develop and it’s just a part of life. Growing away from old friends, old hobbies and haunts is natural and perfectly okay. Yes there are things I miss about my old self and life, but things now aren’t so bad. I’m definitely not as ignorant as I once was, I’m far more confident and happy to spend time with myself too, and I’m also part of an awesome bookish community. I’m far more laid back than I was at the start of my time off (probably because I haven’t had a ridiculous essay deadline in 20 months!) and I like to think I’m a lot less judgemental of people than I was. Personal growth isn’t always something I’ve been able to deal with very well, constantly nostalgic for the past and my life before my mum died. But I know now that change is good, even if it doesn’t seem like it at the time, and I’m proud of who I am today.

The next time I write a post on here, I’ll be in a dorm room in a small city in the middle of the country I’ve visited approximately once. I know now that University isn’t going to be the best thing ever, that all those wild expectations I used to have won’t necessarily come true. But it’s a new chapter and I’m excited to see where it takes me.

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