I have no desire to go towards my chosen field. I have no desire to do anything, if I'm being honest. Unfortunately, the thought of being a disappointment to my family, as I feel I was for most of my childhood and adolescence, is the only reason I didn't switch to a major I thought I'd enjoy.
Slowly but surely, I'm realizing that piece of paper will mean nothing in the long run. It doesn't define me. It doesn't tell anyone about how good I am at writing. It doesn't tell people that I love reading. It doesn't tell anyone my love for videogames and music. All it tells you is my name and what I studied for eight fucking semesters.
I don't know what I'm doing anymore. Half of me is so ready to give up as soon as I get that stupid piece of paper. Just...I don't know.
I haven't been through half the hell others have. I try not to complain, because I know it could be worse, but lately I can't do much else.
Today's been rough. Figures the day after my birthday would be the day I type up another mental breakdown blog.
I'll leave off with this: You are more than how you do in school or what your job is. You have hobbies and interests. You are awesome. However you express yourself, be it through your job or school or your hobbies and interests, do it with as much enthusiasm as you can muster. I believe in you.