Summary

The author reflects on their transformative journey through university, initially pursuing a psychology degree with the aim of a quick exit, but ultimately finding self-discovery and personal growth beyond the pressures of academic timelines and societal expectations.

Abstract

The article narrates the author's personal experience with higher education, particularly their decision to study psychology after realizing medical school was not their calling. Initially attracted to psychology for its perceived ease compared to other sciences, the author quickly realized the challenges of university life and the pressure to adhere to a four-year plan. Struggling with mental health issues and the stress of academia, they felt compelled to choose a pragmatic minor in statistics to enhance their degree's perceived value. However, the author's journey took longer than anticipated, leading to self-doubt and societal judgment. The turning point came with a minor in Creative Writing, which brought fulfillment and a realization that any degree's value lies in the personal growth and experiences gained during the educational process. The author concludes that life is not a race and that prioritizing mental health is crucial. They now work in a psychology-adjacent field, affirming that their degree, while not a requirement, was a testament to their understanding of people and contributed to their employability.

Opinions

Psychology is likened to Drake in the sciences, being intellectually accessible and popular.
The author initially viewed their psychology degree as a quicker route out of university but later appreciated its depth and the personal development it offered.
There is a critique of the societal pressure to adhere to a specific timeline for life milestones, referred to as "attachment to the timeline."
The author regrets their impulsive decision to minor in statistics, realizing that it did not align with their interests or enhance their academic experience.
Mental health issues, such as depression and attention-deficit disorder, are acknowledged as significant challenges during the university years.
The article emphasizes the importance of trusting the process and being open to change, suggesting that any degree can be valuable if leveraged correctly.
The author advocates for prioritizing mental health over career aspirations, suggesting that taking time off or gap years can be beneficial.
There is a strong belief that the journey of self-discovery should not be rushed and that life's unpredictability and personal matters can affect academic and career paths.
The author expresses satisfaction with their current job, which is adjacent to their field of study, and asserts that their degree was a factor in their employability, despite not being a strict requirement.
The article concludes with a message that one's career path is unique and that a degree's worth is determined by the individual's experiences, learning, and connections made during their university years.

I Spent Seven Years in University and All I Got was a “Useless” Psychology Degree

How university made me lose my mind, and how I got it back and found myself in the process.

Psychology, the Drake of sciences

Like many undergrads, it took me exactly one semester of university to conclude medical school wasn't for me.

So I decided to pursue psychology.

As far as sciences go, psychology is often seen as being of the soft and cuddly variety.

Psychology is the Drake of sciences: intellectually accessible, memeable, and highly popular with women.

I thought picking a "relatively easy" science meant I would get out of the arduous academic abyss faster than if I picked something like physics or biology or astronomy.

In my mind, the less time I spent at university, the better.

Like many undergrads, I had a four year plan: four years to graduate and get on with my life, four years to "find myself".

It also took me one semester to realize I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't know what I signed up for when I entered the world of higher academia.

How I let go of my attachment to the timeline

In a society that prioritizes productivity, profits, and progress, taking time off to practice self-care is an act of eccentricity.

If I could go back in time and drill that idea into my younger self’s brain, I would.

I would slap myself upside the head and tell myself to let go of my attachment to the micro-timeline. Then I would look myself deeply in the eyes, tell myself I'm doing great, and explain what a micro-timeline is.

Firstly, "attachment to the timeline" is a term that was introduced to me by fellow writer and friend Tasmia Nishat. This idea refers to the very human tendency to compare our life progress to that of others. It could also mean comparison against an idealized timeline we develop in our minds.

As Eugenio Cibruscola writes in 3 Inevitable Career Truths, careers are time-bound to an extent. This is where the macro-timeline comes in. You have specific windows of time during which you should hit certain proverbial milestones (such as graduating high school, finding a job, getting a car, buying a house, getting married, having kids, retiring, watching Breaking Bad in its entirety).

In contrast to the macro-timeline, the micro-timeline simply exists within smaller time frames and could consist of more immediate goals like graduating university in 4 years or wanting to become a programmer by 25 when you’re 21.

After choosing to major in psychology, I felt I was under pressure to pick a minor right away. It took a little time to decide but I chose statistics. Big mistake.

For me, anyways.

It was a pragmatic decision, and an impulsive one. I chose statistics because I thought it would help make my degree more "useful" and applicable to research. I had it in my head that I could be a statistician with a bachelor’s degree, and that experience in statistics would be helpful in graduate school.

I really, really wanted to go to graduate school.

Things didn’t go as planned.

The stress of university made the mental health issues pile on. I discovered my attention-deficit disordered brain actually didn’t develop proper study habits in high school. I experienced several depressive episodes that got more severe over time.

The prospect of dropping out seemed like an oxygen tank as I sank further, questioning everything, wondering if I should check out permanently — and I don’t mean check out of university.

When year 4 came around and the end of the tunnel was nowhere in sight, I only got more and more antsy about my future. Increasingly unsure about the prospect of grad school. Increasingly unsure about whether I’d be able to get a job should grad school not pan out.

"Oh, you're a psych major? Are you gonna get a master's?"

"No."

"Good luck finding a job. LOL."

I've always considered myself as patient. But when years 5 and 6 came around and all my friends started graduating and leaving university—exiting my life stage right and left—my hopes for a happy ending to my university story kept dwindling.

If I could go back in time and tell my younger self to hang in there and not to fret too much about the future, I would. I would also tell myself that my decision to minor in Creative Writing was a solid move.

Because that was the turning point of my story. The fulfillment of taking psychology and creative writing together outweighed the fear of being judged and jobless.

Back then, I had no idea how to trust the process.

If one knows how to adapt and keep an open mind, the right thing will come along. Any degree can be weaponized and utilized and adapted.

It’s not solely about the degree, but what led to it. It’s about the work you did, the things you learned, the connections you made.

A degree is just a piece of paper proving you did it.

I spent so much time in a state of heartache, dreading the idea that I won't be able to find a job with my degree. I was wrong.

To give this some perspective, I’m now working in a psychology-adjacent field where I feel I am truly making a difference in the lives of the people I work with. Though my degree wasn't a requirement, it was viewed by my employers as a plus and a testament to my understanding of people.

My degree didn't get me my job. I did.

And honestly, it doesn’t matter how long it took. I ended up where I wanted to be, and I’m still moving forward. Progress is lifelong, and ideally I won’t stop until my heart and lungs do.

It doesn’t matter I’m some kind of academic anomaly — having taken nearly twice the time to get a degree than most.

One’s career path is uniquely theirs and won’t exactly resemble that of anyone else.

Therefore, the journey of finding oneself should be allowed to progress at a natural, subjective pace. Plus, the seven years I spent at university taught me how often life gets in the way. So does mental illness.

Personal and family matters get in the way. Also, people’s minds change—and so do job markets.

Prioritizing careers and meeting deadlines of progress is difficult, and sometimes de-prioritizing in service of mental health is the most sensible option.

If you need to take a gap year, do it. If you need to take time off, do it. Your mental health is more important than your career. I'll say it again louder for the people in the back of the auditorium: prioritize your mind and mental health. Everything else will follow.

Bottom line: while time, and timelines, and deadlines, are indeed huge factors, they aren't the be-all-end-all for one's career trajectory.

Let go of attachment to the timeline.

Life is not a race.

How my "useless degree" helped me find myself

Yes, I have a Bachelor's degree in Psychology.

Yes, like many, I spent more than a year post-graduation in unemployment hell, unable to use my degree for professor Jack Schitt.

And I have no plans to pursue a master’s degree either. Because even though psychology is one of the subjects I am most passionate about, I just don’t feel like I’m personally cut out for a master’s program. (Not to mention the fact that my GPA is lower than my self-esteem whenever I reinstall Tinder.)

Honestly, the idea of tying my passion for learning for the sake of learning to grades against which I inevitably and unconsciously measure my self-worth, intelligence, and future job prospects, makes me want to vomit. I’d rather go down the path of lifelong auto-didacticism.

I'd rather write.

One of the harshest downers one faces in university is the uncertainty of the future, the sense that all the hardship and heartache isn’t worth it. And the idea that your degree is useless.

Your degree is worth whatever you make of it.

And attending university is about more than obtaining a degree.It’s a flawed mentality to view university as merely a stepping stone to the workforce.

University is like a pressure-cooker one willingly dives into for 4+ years to truly find out what you’re made of.

And even if you don’t come out of it with a degree, you’ll come out a more fleshed out person — if not only with thousands of dollars in debt.

But that’s another story.