The Messy Table

I have been in college for 5.5 years, with that half being a personal break, and in that time I have noticed a pattern in my own behavior. I seem to be experiencing mild panic/anxiety attacks more frequently when it comes to college matters. I took that break from college in what was supposed to be my 5th semester and realized something horrible. I was not interested in mechanical engineering at all. I am in awe of how much innovation it took in that field to get humanity to our current level. But at the end of the day, it was just that. Fascination. It is akin to how you'd feel when you see beautiful scenery. I mistook that feeling for passion, and my judgment was also clouded by the logic behind choosing a major with one of the best prospects and also my personal history since my father is also a mechanical engineer. It felt like it was the safest and therefore correct answer back then.

I have failed to realize that I've known deep down that it was not the right choice for me. All along, the fire that burned in my heart was that of a forge, which fuel my love of creation. I love the active act of creating something. From poetry to illustrations, all the way to coding. I've always loved the idea and feeling of creating something with my own two hands. I know I can use my knowledge of mechanical engineering to create something, but most engineers know that the majority of the work in mechanical engineering is in either management or research. And I am neither a manager nor a researcher. I know some people love these things and it is admirable to be good at them. But I realized now that for me to be happy or content with my life, my next phase in life needs to take into account my love for creating something with my own two hands.

I have vague ideas about how I want to tackle this new year, but that's just how I like to live my life. My attempt to conform to societal norms like having and following a detailed plan for my future is what got me into this messy headspace. I shall now revert to the last version of myself that was happy. The one that has vague ideas and navigates the world adaptively, rather than the one that tries to predict the future and play with numbers and statistics to obtain a “picture-perfect life”. I just hope I won't cause too much anxiety for the people I love and care for, like my partner and my family. Since I like to live my life in a bit of a reckless way to some people.

Wish me luck, and I wish you well friends.