I'm sure such sorrows have been lamented on TSR many times but I hope no one minds me partaking in such a cathartic outlet.
At the age of 22 I started a humanities access to higher education qualification (or something like that) and applied for history at a "top 5" university for history in the UK. I chose it because I thought it would give me research skills for writing periodically based novels. My view was history was about finding the truth and accurately portraying the past. I was wrong, apparently it's about criticising it in the most verbose and pretentious as way possible, with weird philosophies that all centre around "power" and "oppression". I have a feeling they intend us to use the degree politically. ... testicles!, I'm a wasted student. I'm not really interested in toppling capitalism. Nonetheless I did my best to quack like them.
I do wonder what happens when these history lecturerers meet the economics lecturerers. Do they hate each other? One studies philosophy based from the works of Adam Smith the other from Karl Marx, must be like a cat living with orange peels.
Well anyway, I looked back at the 4 years and wondered what if tried Web design and coding, something I actually enjoyed. I liked creating something. I don't enjoyed miserably moaning about excrement that's gone by. But I convinced myself I was too dumb for it, looking back I was stupid. Stupid for thinking that.
I'm 25 now, soon to be 26, and I just feel too old to start another wave of education. Due my social anxiety I've not really lived much of a life and frankly would rather not do any more years of stress inducing education. Sadly I'm pretty sure I'm only going to get a 2.2. So the 4 years was basically a waste of my life. I should have done better but I'm just not a good essayist. The writing style does not flow naturally for me. And much of the lessons bored me to tears, quite literally, both with yarns and with a over sweeping brush of melancholy as I realised how I hated what I was doing.
Didn't really make any friends either, as I am a poor country chap with a lack of social skills, whilst most are out going middle-class city kids. Life of an introvert is a lonely one.
You may ask why did I do the full 3 years of uni? Well I was so afraid of being a failure I didn't want to give up. But I feel Like a lost something more precious. Time.
I actually wonder whether 4 years of work experience would have had the same benefit in the end and I would have had more money and less debt, being as parsimonious as I am.
I guess that's life though, you gamble years not money and one day you may realise that your gamble didn't pay off and the years you invested matured to nothing but wasted opportunities.
Still I guess one can only look on the bright side. I have my health and many more years to come. I'll probably have a stab at writing a young adult novel, maybe I have acquired some skills from my course of which I'm yet to realise.