Giving Up

I thought I would start off this post with a quote, seem all professional & fancy, but you know what happened? I was going to write that famous quote about finding what you love & then you won't have to work a day in your life. But then I found an article that stated all the reasons why that theory doesn't work, & because they do seem like legitimate reasons & because I understand & agree with some of them, I decided to completely trash that idea.

So here we are, with nothing to soften the blow that might become this less-than-positive post. Oh, well. At least I tried, right? At least I kept up my promise of posting another blog post today.

So let's dive straight in with this. If you've read my previous post, which I hope you have, you'll know that this is partially related to me completely screwing up my exam. Actually, my hope that you've read my previous post kind of puts quite a bit of pressure on you as a reader, because then I'm expecting & assuming that you're a regular reader of this blog.

It won't be right to question if this blog even has any readers in the first place, because the page views & stats of this blog say otherwise, which, to be quite honest, is pretty amazing in itself. Not going to lie, I'm genuinely surprised that many people are reading & coming across this blog. It's pretty cool, actually.

Anyway, I digress. So the reason why I haven't written much until yesterday/today morning is for two reasons. One, I had my midterms, & I was working hard, & pushing myself to get everything done on time. I pushed myself hardest than I ever have; I gave up multiple times & then told myself that it wasn't an option to give up; I couldn't. I can't.

So I went on & on, pushing & pushing & pushing. Two, after that was done, I didn't know if I should write about something that wasn't motivating, or positive. I didn't know if I wanted this blog to be a positive-only zone.

I never did come up with a decision to that last one. I'm not writing this because I decided that this isn't a positive-only place; I'm writing simply because I wanted to let it out, because it's been driving me crazy, constantly, for days now. I doubt writing about it would make much of a difference, but whatever. At least I'll have written about it.

Maybe it would help someone else, maybe they'll realize that somebody out there is experiencing something very similar to what they're feeling or something. I don't really know. I'm honestly just rambling now; I apologize. Moving on.

For two weeks, I hadn't slept or eaten properly. I was getting 4-6 hours of sleep maximum, for days, i.e. 4-6 hours in two days. Not per day. Per multiple days. I had a constant headache, & the constant question, nagging me in the back of my head, that why am I doing this. Why am I showing so much commitment to something I knew would not even matter? I knew my ideas, my design, would not be considered even above average.

I knew this. Yet I pushed on anyway. I had to get the work done, no matter what. I can't sacrifice on this, no matter what. I can't make myself stop caring about it, or get sloppy, even if I absolutely hate it. I just can't. And that is so,so, so frustrating to me. But it is what it is.

So I did that. There was a day where I worked for 12 hours straight, stopping only to eat dinner; that too only because my sister got angry with me about it. I gave it my all. The first two exams were a breeze for me, because they were theory based, & also because one of them was Leadership. We all know here how much I love that damn course.

So it was great, & I was very happy about it. Though that day, I remember, I wasn't feeling up to my usual self; but regardless, the exam went great. The next day, I had Business Simulation & Marketing. That went pretty well too, & I was feeling pretty good about the midterm week.

Then came the 12-hour day, & working constantly. The third exam, for Lighting, apart from a few nicks, went good too. It wasn't as bad as I'd prepared myself for, & I was thankful for that. That 12-hour day & hard work paid off; I was happy. Next day, it was AutoCad, & I already knew I was going to be screwed, simply because I can't work in a set time. For that, I need time, & my own space to work through that time.

So I knew it wouldn't be smooth-sailing at all. But I was okay with that, I guess. I mean it was okay. It wasn't something to get upset over, because it was nothing new; I already knew it was going to happen, I had no expectations. So that went okayish, nothing above average. It frustrated me a bit still, to have done comparatively poorly, when others did better. But that wasn't the worst of it. The worst of it would come the next day.

So I left for home, reached in the evening, & after being forced to have lunch by my mum, I got back straight to work. I stopped multiple times to tell my sister that I was giving up, that I didn't want to do it; she very cheekily told me okay, don't do it. She knows damn well that I wouldn't do that, that I wouldn't give up. Such a frustrating quality to have, right?

So obviously, I kept working anyway, soldiered on anyway, regardless of the fact that I was beyond tired, my head had been constantly & insistently pounding for about two weeks then, & I had absolutely zero interest in what I was doing. It didn't matter, & I kept going on.

Next morning, I had another written exam before the actual design one. I wasn't very hopeful for that one, but I tried my best anyway. Though before both the exams, I had the Principles Of Leadership class early in the morning. I was happy, & I was in a good mood that morning because I was genuinely proud of myself, & I was proud of the quality of work that I'd done; I was proud of myself for having finished it all on time, despite the short amount of time we actually had.

I was proud, I liked my design, & I didn't care about the fact that my professor might not like it; I was set on the fact that I loved it & was happy & satisfied with it. I was chirpy, & I was in a better mood than I had been in for days; also, it's worth mentioning that it also was the last day of midterms, so obviously I was excited. (For some reason, I just pronounced that as egg-cited in my head. What the hell, brain?) So I spoke up more than usual in class, (I'm a completely different person in uni. Think introvert vs. extrovert; think a complete 360.) & I interacted more than usual.

I discussed the upcoming submission with one of my classmates, & I told her that I would show the professor my work first, so that he will have high hopes from everybody in the class. Big mistake; I definitely should not have said that. That was the first step of me jinxing myself, I suppose. So then anyway, I gave my first exam of the day, the written Philosophy one, & after that, I sat with two of my classmates, outside the studio where the design exam was supposed to be held.

We all talked, & I, very happily, & probably stupidly now that I think about it, told them all about how I wouldn't care if he doesn't like it, because I'm happy with what I've done. Jinx number 2, Hera. I literally ruined it for myself, didn't I?

So long story short, (This is already pretty long. That's what she said. Heh. Sorry.) everything I spent weeks doing, was wrong; it was in wrong scale. He refused to look at anything else, complained about my colour scheme, even though I'd showed him my mood board twice before, & he'd said nothing then. So now I have to repeat every single thing that I spent weeks working on. It was a huge disaster, & it upset me greatly.

I called up my sister, & I cried. I cried a lot. That rejection, that realization that everything I'd worked so hard for was wrong; it broke me. It ripped off all the subtle band-aids that I'd been sticking on every part of me & my brain to keep myself in check & to keep going; it broke me. That dreadful realization came back, that I've been working so, so hard, despite the fact that I have zero interest in it, that I am beyond miserable being stuck in this undergrad degree, that I am still trying my best to be better than average.

Why? Why am I doing it? I hate it with everything I have. I am not interested in the least to be an interior designer. My designs, no matter how unique or different, have never been approved or appreciated. I've been told that they are not good enough, constantly. Three years, three major projects; not one of them has ever been told even a measly little "good". No. It's always been criticism & constant rejections.

Do you know what that does to a person? The toll it takes on one person? I'll tell you what it does; it takes away their self-confidence. It makes them doubt themself. It makes them always look at the bad side of something instead of good. It makes them think they are not good enough. It gives them countless sleepless nights. It makes them cry out of sadness, out of frustration. It BREAKS them. That's what it does to a person. That's what it's done to me.

People tell me to be more positive, to look at the bright side, to be thankful. But what they fail to see & to understand, is that when you constantly tell something to someone, over & over & over again, they WILL believe it. Repeat something enough times, & you will believe it. Unfortunately, this same thing goes for both negative & positive things; tell someone something negative repeatedly, they will believe it. Tell them something positive again & again, eventually they will believe it.

Right now, it has been a few days since last Wednesday. I still haven't gotten over any of it. I am still very depressed, miserable, & frustrated over it all. I still randomly start crying, because I remember what has become of me. I still pretty much want to run away somewhere, leave everything behind, start fresh somewhere. I do not want to stay. I do not want to continue.

That day, that cursed Wednesday, I definitely wanted to stop living altogether. I don't want to do that as much now, as much as I want to just run away; to just get away from this, from here. I haven't been on any social media, I haven't spoken to any of my friends; I don't want to. I just want to go somewhere where nobody knows me, & I don't know them. They don't know what I've been through, & I don't know what their life story is.

I just really, really, really want to get away from here as soon as I can. I can't go on anymore. I give up on this.