Fundamental Doubts

I've had a new doubt- a fundamental doubt- emerge in me.

I'm not sure that I want to do the MA in Creative Writing.

Ah.

Can you believe it?  I actually thought I was heading somewhere, growing into something.

Right now, I just don't care about the course anymore.  The uni hasn't sent me an induction pack despite it being less than a month that the course starts.  I've had more interaction with the reps for my holiday to Ibiza which is also in a month.

I spent the summer busting my butt trying to pass 'Real Uni' and it actually started working.  I was getting better grades.  I was actually learning.  And I wasn't feeling like such a failure.  A failure in REAL life.  The life where bills and credit ratings mean something.

My new job is actually related to what I'm studying at Real Uni, and I can see if I just keep my head down, live a life of moderation and just plod I might be able to salvage my existence and have a semblance of a normal life.  This MA in Creative Writing is going to distract me.  I have to have a 40,000 word novel together by June next year.  My current word count is 14,000 thanks to what I managed  to write on my Diploma course.  I don't see myself writing it.

I get very frustrated with my story in general.  I think of it often, which irritates me.  I think of it so much I act out scenes, and I've started drawing bits of scenes again.  And I think if i had a year of 'silence' I could write it. I feel if I had a desk I could write it.

Furnishing my flat has been a very slow process, and I plan on fully furnishing my place by the middle of September, before the storm.  I feel like my entire life is unassembled.  And all the fundamental pieces are missing.  

I'm very lonely in this new city, especially after losing the job at the restaurant.  There were many young people my own age and I felt like I had friends and a place I belonged.  Wrong again.  

I don't know.  I don't know why I'm full of such doubt.  I feel like I'm at a fork in the road.  Between possible destiny (being a writer) and not being a financial ruin (giving writing a serious break and pursuing a CAREER).

If I had more money, I would do the MA in Creative Writing.  It's going to financially ruin drain me, and I don't know if I can bear to feel that pressurised again.  I just want an easy life.  When is it ever going to be easy?  When is it ever going to feel right?

I don't know.  Sometimes I feel so detached, like a ghost just drifting through the remains of my own existence and I just want to be like everyone else.  Just want to have a group of girlfriends, a nice boyfriend, a good job, a savings account and attainable dreams like going to America next summer.  

Each day I wake up to a phone with no messages and I realise how empty pointless unique my situation is.  I am free to do as I wish.  

Well not free.  No one cares.  Only the bill man.  The debtors.  And me when my uni grades are trash.

Honestly don't know what I will do.

I know what I should do. I should call up the Masters course and defer for a year.  And then just struggle on with Real Life.  REALITY.  And forget about these silly dreams.

But then I remember.  There's nothing holding me back from my dreams other than financial difficulty.  But financial difficulty is enough to ruin me and send me back to that dark place I worked so hard to escape.  

Such doubts.