The following is a lengthy excerpt from an email exchange between myself and the older brother (A) and father (J) of my dear friend. I'm sharing it now, months after the fact, because thankfully, I feel like I'm beginning to step out of the terrible puddle I was in back then. I think they've got some really interesting insights, as a brilliant but struggling law student (A) and a successful businessman and father of two (J). Then there's me, who just had to throw her two cents in. Enjoy (If you can make it all the way through)!
**names have been held to protect identities (just in case they don't want the 6 people who read my blog to read their ruminations)
A*:
They should seriously have a required class at all large state universities that everyone has to take final semester of senior year titled "Real Life Sucks." College is the end of the fairy tale. Happiness genuinely takes on a completely different meaning once you graduate. I don't know a single individual that was prepared to cope with life after college. People can tell you over and over and over again that college is so much different (read, worse) than the rest of your life. You hear it, and you just don't have the perspective to understand it. Your entire life, as far as you're concerned (whether you realize it or not), has been college. You find yourself in college. Psychologically, the only person that you know is the person that you are today, and the person that you are at high school graduation is not yourself (perhaps that is slightly oversimplified, but I think the conclusion is clear). Therefore, your subjective perception of reality is based purely on the experiences that you have encountered as "yourself." As a college student.
One day, everyone wakes up at 7:00 AM, gets in the shower to get ready for work, and thinks, "Really? This is what my life is now?"
People say that just as your perception in college is skewed, as you move further away from college your perceptions of fun and enjoyment are shifted back, closer to "real world reality." Think about that for a moment. Some person has the audacity to tell me that my perceptions of fun and happiness were at too high of a threshold, and the only way that I will shake my self-loathing is to forget how much fun I can actually have. Seriously? That is the world that we have to dive back into?
Now obviously the transition from college back to the real world isn't this catastrophic for all people. There are two sides to examine how precipitous your decline in happiness will be: (1) how much fun you had in college (Were you in the greek system - clearly not a pre-requisite to fun, but let's be honest, it just presents you more opportunities to do fun things - Did you have a lot of friends? Did you always have something to do, every night of the week? Was a stress in your life deciding which party you were going to have to skip? Did you get outside and do stuff? Take trips with your friends? Skip class to do things that may have been dangerous (skiing)? and (2) what your real life experience begins as (Are you living at home "for a few months?" (don't); Are you going to be doing something you really enjoy? Are you going to be well compensated? Are you living in a town where you know a lot of people? Do you have to work weekends? Is your boss an asshole?
Maybe I am such a pessimist because law school sucks. Maybe I just speak the truth. I don't know, but I lean towards the latter.
J*, A's Dad:
I think you're speaking the truth. There is no shortage of art (plays, songs, books and movies) that deals with the issues of personal dissatisfaction, alienation and malaise. The transition from childhood through adolescence to adulthood is too rarely an easy one. Happiness is unquantifiable and elusive. The one thing that age lends, is perspective. I can see from here that I wish I would have gone to college in a better place than Boring Green, Ohio. Frankly, doing anything, anywhere, would have been more fun than that place, so I started with the bar so low that things were bound to improve. All I knew was that I had to get away. No more Ohio. Wound up in Phoenix, then Atlanta--both significant geo-upgrades--having a blast. So, one solution to avoiding the precipitous decline in post-graduate happiness, is to go to a mediocre Land Grant college in the rust-belt.
Perhaps an advantage of going to school in Boulder is that you can see the possibilities of living an exciting, fulfilling life. Of course you have already elucidated the disadvantages.
The reason I counsel anyone who asks, "Do what you love, and you'll never work a day," is precisely because waking up at 7 AM to go to a job you hate is a no way to live. Most people are not fortunate enough to have a passionate interest in something tangible from an early age. Nor do most recognize that, say, enduring the pain of law school while young, guarantees options when older. Fact: life is short unless you're stranded without an income, a place to live, or the talent, temperament and training to get those things. Then life is long. And tedious.
I think what we're looking for is control of our own destinies. A successful life might be one that allows us the freedom to generally be where we want to be when we want to be there. Few achieve that. Even fewer achieve it early in life. The thing is, you both have the native tools (intellect, formal education, social grace, etc.) and the work ethic to get there sooner rather than later if you want to. All I ask is that you not lower your expectations; that you work toward a happy and fulfilling life--whatever that may mean to you--and that you not give up because it's hard and occasionally disappointing. It's not always fun, but should be on balance. Something else a little life experience will put in context for you.
Me:
Might I chime in?
I'm learning now the significance of doing what you love; pretty much because I'm not doing it. These days I'm enduring the throes of underemployment (a perk of graduating during a recession). I have a degree in journalism and economics from a competitive private university; I've traveled around the world; I have so much to learn. And yet, I spend an inordinate amount of time updating my boss' outlook contacts and making restaurant reservations. When I get a spare moment, I whip out a finance textbook from the shelf behind my cubicle and study, or write freehand in a notebook tucked away in a drawer. THAT'S how much I miss college. For me, the question doesn't come in the morning. Rather, it's when sit at my desk in the middle of the day, in a deafeningly silent office, job hunting on the down-low, that I stop and think, "This is what my life is now?"
I was lucky enough to go to college in a playground. New York City is the place to have a blast in school--almost dangerously so. I say that because college in New York is a different kind of fairy tale, complete with glamour and accessibility and a lifestyle that no one should get accustomed to without earning. And I never did get accustomed to it; in fact, I lived in a constant fear that it would be taken away from me at a moment's notice. But I realize now that that was kind of amazing: to be so painfully happy that you were actually afraid it would end.
All that stuff they tell you-- about conquering the world, following your dreams, doing what you love-- is sounding more and more like a distant echo. I learned when I traveled to India that purpose is a luxury, and that it's a product of someone else's sacrifice. Maybe being a grown up (or being good at it) is about trying to find purpose in small ways, and compromising without settling. But it's a harsh realization, learning that you can absolutely do what you love, as long as you pay the rent. I hope I can find that balance. These days, I'm really afraid that this won't end. And I'm desperately trying to find some control over my own destiny: I want to work with people enjoy, for a cause I care about, in the city of my dreams...and pay the rent. I knew it wouldn't be easy, but, damn, I didn't know it would be this hard.
Thank your dad for me, though, for reminding me that it is the people who make a life rich. I'm surrounded by angels, near and far, who have given me the luxury of purpose: If I'm here for nothing else, it's for them.
I hope this doesn't scare you into submission; I think this kind of disillusionment is normal, to a degree. I'll snap out of it. After all, we are young, and we MUST FIGHT!
