Grad School, Yes or Hell No?

I want to go to grad school. Just kidding, no, I actually very much don’t. Ugh, I don’t know.

Here's the thing, I am in love with the idea of learning more and having a guide to higher learning, but choosing one possible track has been difficult. My interests are all over the place. I’ve been a victim of practicality for my entire life. I do what’s best, or what makes the most sense, or what I already know a little about. I’ve never just done something because I was passionate about it. There's a running joke that I “don’t like” anything, but in truth, nothing that I have ever “liked” has ever been practical or rooted in reality. Honestly, if it were up to me, I’d sing at a night club — and I, sure enough, don’t sing well enough to be on anyone’s center stage.

Moving past the obvious “what do I want to be when I grow up-ness" of it all, I’m afraid that I don’t have enough mental fortitude or capacity left to apply to grad school, let alone attend. I am literally haunted by memories of undergrad that I am constantly trying to shake loose. Undergrad was just traumatic for me. Upon reflection, I was having a hard time every day of every year. Every semester, if not every week, I was faced with a new challenge or had a new form of harm done to me that I never thought I’d experience. I don't, for a moment, think I'm alone in that but I didn't even have enough "fun" to balance out the misery that was college.

*Content Warning: SA* Out the gate, college was not going well for me. To begin, I was physically ill for the entirety of my freshman year, which was caused by an unhealthy weight-loss diet that I was on just a few months before starting college. I was sexually assaulted within the first month of my freshman year. It’s a story I’ll save for never, but I tried to do someone a favor because I thought I was supposed to be “nice” in college (because I’ve been called not-so-nice at times) and they lied to me and took advantage of my kindness. This would prove to be a reoccurring theme throughout literally my entire college career, but that would take ALL day to flesh out. Moving on.

My maternal grandfather died my sophomore year. It was sad but manageable. What wasn't manageable, was my paternal Grandmother dying a month later, 7 days before my 19th birthday in March. She was/is my best friend. I wore black every day, in mourning, and I drank every night to fall asleep, otherwise, I’d lay awake in bed all night. I missed a week and a half of classes, traveling back home to NY for my grandfather's funeral (which my grandmother intended to attend) and flying to/from the islands to attend my Grandmother's funeral a few weeks later. That darkened the entire year for me, so much so that I don't have many other memories from sophomore year - not any that I would like to remember, anyway. I was also in an abusive relationship at the time, but that’s another story for never.

Junior year was just a mess. While still mourning, I lost my relationship, worked a physical labor-intensive job trying to rack up enough money just to buy groceries, I also had to deal with living in a rodent-infested apartment. I spent any additional time that wasn’t doing student-org work, going to class, doing homework, and commuting an hour to work binge-watching shows on Netflix. Yes, I too love The Office; I just can’t watch it anymore because it brings up memories of the situation I was in the first time I watched.

Senior year, somehow, was still the most traumatic. I dealt with so much drama from working with awful people. Another issue was that I was taking too many classes, I had to retake a class, and I was behind on my graduation schedule. It all culminated in me realizing that I might have been losing my mind when one day, as my friend and I walked together she asked “are you ok?” I had been silently mouthing words and moving my hands as if in an argument... with myself... in my head.

Long story long, I lost a lot in undergrad and I can’t count any gains, other than the degree [it's worth it to note that I don’t even have a copy of said degree because I owe my institution money *laughs out loud*]. I can’t even remember anything I learned in the classes for my major. Additionally, due to my socially-hesitant nature, I didn’t garner any relationships with any professors that could give me references, and I don’t have many friends left from that time - none that I actually speak to, anyway (re my social hesitance - a phrase I made up because I’ve never sought an actual "social anxiety" diagnosis).

For me, the idea of grad school just seems like the logical next step. However, the thought of it makes me anxious, fearful, and downright ill. Still, the idea of not going makes me feel like I’m failing myself and I’m giving up short of the finish line. I don’t know. I managed to power through undergrad, so maybe that's a sign that I’m strong enough to do grad school. Or maybe I should count my losses and stop contemplating higher education while I still have half a brain have left.

I’ll let you know.