The title is today’s question. My anxiety has been through the roof lately with decisions on whether to go to graduate school (simply for a better paying job) versus pursing my passon (and thus, probably being poor). Anyone in society knows that only the very few (and very lucky) can have it both ways these days. It’s either money or passion?
You see a lot of kids go to school for art because it’s their passion but then graduate and have nothing to really fall back on other than a few art shows here or there. Or, if your lucky, catch someones eye and being a “hit”. But the number of students who pursue their passion versus the number that actually reap the rewards from it, are few and far between.
We all know I went to college for History. I love my History degree but sometimes I hate it also. I especially hate it when people say, “Oh, what did you go to school for?” and expect me to say something like “Biology” but instead I say, “History”. And I get a dumbfounded look and a “…Why…?” Why? Because I’m passionate about it. I grew up around Civil War battlefields around Atlanta and Kennesaw, Georgia. I grew up in New Orleans, Louisiana… You know, just places where history is alive in the day-to-day functioning of the town/city. And that passion was furthered along by the many number of excellent history teacher I had in Middle School and High School. When I graduated High School, I had such high hopes that I was going to be an archeologist because that is what spoke to my soul. So the entire time I was growing up I was just totally enraptured by history and “the people who came before”.
But then I moved out, and had rent to pay and a spouse that was relying half way on me to make ends meet and archeology didn’t make sense anymore. Money made sense not “Your passion”. And let’s not even talk about my passion for writing either. Much my whole life was my love for history, which is why it won out. But at the beginning of High School, my love for writing really took over because of a really sensational English teacher. So, in high school, I began to write stories. I think, really, what it came down to was that writing was a way for me to release my anxiety. See, because I’ve had anxiety since I was a small child. In high school, with hormones going everywhere, I really do think that writing and reading acted as a “home” to put away those anxieties.
As an adult, however, where the focus is more on money and time, I think those “homes” were lost to what we call “reality”.
And that, is where I have to put an end to it. I love History and I love writing so I think I’m going to contact a local historical battlefield and see if they’d like any help during the weekends, you know, so I can be close to history again. And as far as writing, well here we are. I have 2 books in the works that have been in what I will call a “coma” for a while. One book has been in said “coma” for about 7 years. The other has only been in a “coma” for about 6 months. I think, I’ll start writing again. You know, like actually writing stories. I’ll write to a few literary agents and see if anyone is interested in them and, if not, then I’ll just self publish like I did my one book of poetry, “Asleep With Wolves” Poetry & Essays” which was published on 7/11/2017. You can find it on Amazon.com if you’re interested.
Anyway, that’s it. Wish me luck.