stressed out

I went for an interview today. As I was sitting there, making small talk and mentally reciting my presentation, I realised that out of my 23 years on this wonderful planet I have spent 16 years in some form of education. Why? I hear you ask. Who knows, is my answer.


We each grow up indoctrinated with the idea of education; your SATs determine your GCSE’s, you have to get good GCSE’s to get you into A – Levels, you have to get good A – Levels to get into a good university, you have to get a 2.1 in university to get a graduate job which will lead to a house, family, and a good pension for when you eventually retire.

Kids, take it from a broken down postgraduate student who’s shovelling popcorn down her throat at midnight trying to finish an assessed presentation (yes, they exist), it’s a fucking lie.

I thought I was laughing when I enrolled on this MA course; I thought I was fast tracking the whole graduate queue for jobs and giving my CV an edge. The only thing I am done is fast tracked myself to an emotional breakdown and an ever-expanding waistline.


I’ve lost track on the amount of times my boyfriend has found me on the bathroom floor crying, or the amount of times I’ve shouted at my dad for bad advice, or the amount of prawn cocktail crisps I have eaten. I’ve basically lost track of time, and space, and anything that matters.  Instead, I’ve revised the MA marking scheme like the Bible in a hope that it will make me feel better.


The lyrics from the song ‘Stressed Out’ literally sums it up “We used to dream of outer space but now they are laughing in our face saying wake up you need to make money”.

We are taught as children that we can be anything we put our minds to but as soon as we hit 18 we are told we need to conform and carve out place in society. It as if when we turn 18 we lose our hearts and in it’s place we are given a clock to show how little time we have to get a good job, to start a pension, to get married, to have babies, to be good citizens.


What happens if I say no? What if I walk away from this academic life I worked so hard to get and throw everything in the ‘Fuck It Bucket’? It feels like I have woken up and realised that this clock is telling me we only have 24 hours to make this life count.

Some of us are lucky in life to meet people with wild souls and horizons for eyes, and I was blessed to have one walk into my life at the point when I least expected it. He, like other wild souls, paints the most beautiful picture of taking chances. He talks about adventures and memories so well that it dances in front my eyes when I try to sleep at night and it whispers to me while I write my essays.


My feet are getting itchy and I am desperate to go. I looked up flights to Bali a few weeks ago and I was so close to booking it. I figured a one-way ticket would do me some good. Maybe I’ll be spiritually reborn; I’ll wear tie dye and have a Ying and Yang tattoo on my shoulder and change my name to BTH because the E is so conformist.


Or just maybe I’ll figure out my path in life.


If this interview didn’t go well and my plans for September have changed, I’ll take it as a sign and book my flight.

Until then if you need me, I’ll be on the bathroom floor crying.

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