Cogs can think.

When I decided to quit Psychology, almost two years ago now, I was in an utter state of panic. My entire lifeplan fell apart, its remains vanishing in puffs of smoke. I had planned to become a psychologist in the doctor-kind-of-way (so not in a researcher-kind-of-way), and I had already found peace with that idea.

Even though I decided to stop at the end of my second year, I actually already had second thoughts after the first year, in the summer months preceding the second year. I had grown very close with a friend of mine, but I already knew she would quit the study after that first year; during the summer, I was afraid that ‘losing’ her would kind of defeat the point of going to university. This sounds heavy, but with that I mean we did everything together at university; I kind of had the feeling I had to do it alone when she quit. And I didn’t want that.

In any case, now I obviously realise that my doubts then had nothing to do with the feeling of having to do it alone; I had a lot of friends there with whom I could work together without a hitch (and in fact, this is what I did in the second year). I now know I simply was not yet ready to accept I had made the wrong choice with psychology, and constructed this oddball reasoning to be able to vent my worries without having to acknowledge my own mistake. I am like that a lot.

In any case, I was in a state of panic. I needed a vacation, a break away from it all, so I went to Berlin to think about my future. When I returned, I made little progress. It took me months to find a new study, but in the end, I did; and as you all know, I’m very happy with it.

My lifeplan is back now. I will become a professional journalist. I am currently already filling my minor with subjects specifically to be able to enter the Journalism master after I’m done with my bachelor. Luckily, the ladies (Marco, Martin, and Levi) will be doing the same.

I have a plan again. I like it when I know what’s a’cumin’. I fcuking hate uncertainty.