Hi. So I am currently in my final year of University studying Psychology, and I have a few remarks about how the course has been going over the past three years.
Psychology is like a wasp sting. You get pricked by it, and for a short while (1 year), it is unnoticeable; you cannot feel the sting. Then, it all comes at once, bringing all the misery and pain simultaneously. What I will be writing is quite biased as I do not intend to pursue a career in Psychology, so my views will be quite different.
When coming to University, I would (and still) use the excuse that I chose the topic as a backup option, as it was during the COVID lockdown. I didn’t know how long the pandemic would be, and I was too afraid to relax and do nothing, so I took a gamble. It all stemmed from what I filled my brain with. When I used to watch Smosh, an actor there – Shayne Topp, would talk about psychology and how fascinating it was. Now, as the impressionable, yearning-for-a-male-role-model I am, I wanted to study it so I could inadvertently be like Shayne. It is good to have models, but modelling your career choices will not make you like them. You effectively lie to yourself to tell others that this is who you are when the real you is on the moon in your mind’s world.
1st year was a breeze but incredibly dull. There were many instances when I wanted to drop out, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I didn’t want to be the version of myself that gave up. This nature crept into my personality and daily actions in my final year. To write this blog post, I did not attend a workshop. I signed up to participate because of how accessible all University information is online. The powerpoints and videos are all within my reach on the wide web; why should I attend these workshops? One might argue, “it is the lecturer’s advice on how to do things best for your course”, which I agree with to an extent. The other side of the argument is that these lecturers are paid to be present for a set number of hours per week on campus, meaning they stretch content out for as long as they want, and students have to consume it.
Makes sense? It is what we pay for, after all. But I don’t want to waste my final year here anymore. It is already November; our student house has the Christmas tree up. Time is moving so fast, and I want these three years to mean something.
So, what do I choose them to mean? I want these years to be an example to myself in the future that I do my best and that sometimes my way is better. There’s a song by Frank Sinatra that encapsulates it (My Way).
I’ll keep this updated weekly on how final year is going.
Stay Safe
Tom
From My View 