No Ali, it's not fear that eats the soul. It's regret.

The past couple of months I've been riding this small, unstable wave of "I'll find something. My interests will lead somewhere that I want to be. " Or the newer, "Not everyone is a creative person. That's worth something, and I should follow that."

shattered in about five minutes worth of conversation.

And now there's a very distinct and obvious shift from the supportive "do what will make you happy. or why do this if you hate it?" that existed the last year and a half-- in the thick of my decisions-- to a "whoops, you should have double majored. Now what are you going to do? You fucked up!"
This all leads me, of course, to irrational fiery balls of contempt, bitterness, contrition, whatever words you want to use.

 Why were you so weak????

It feels like, at least in this moment, that the decisions of my 21st year will be something from which I can never recover. I knew it would be. Either way I knew I would lose, somehow.
It's a horrible, inescapable feeling. (The kind that probably drive people to alcoholism and pills, but that's being melodramatic :)

No, I shouldn't have quit.

I shouldn't have given in to whatever misery happened to be consuming all hope for happiness.

I should have sucked it up.

I should have seen it through.

Actually, more realistically, I should have taken a leave of absence for a semester, but I know that going home would have probably resulted in a propensity for destructive behavior and a hopelessness. So really I did myself a favor.



Either way-- now I'm left with what feels like very few options. And Im so angry and disappointed with myself I don't know what to do.