I have been realizing lately just how unhappy I am. I have never really been happy, I don’t think, except when I was in a destructive relationship, and that wasn’t true happiness. Me and my younger brother raised ourselves, our father was never in our home. Our mother was, but she was always locked away in her room or walking the halls of our home. She was not in her right mind, and we had been given the burden of caring for her like she was a destructive child since we were young children. We were more of parents than any we ever had, and as I grew older I became angry, depressed, and lonely, yet confining myself to my room all day every day of my childhood because I could not stand to hear her roam the halls and scream.

Anyway, the point is where I am at in life now. I’ve never really had the chance to be completely happy. It has always been a spark of happiness here, and a hint there with reality setting in at every curve. I have never, until now, had a problem with being grateful, though. For some reason I was always designed to be grateful for what I had and be willing to help those less fortunate, but I am, for some reason just now in my life, losing that as well.

I am 19 and a sophomore at a major university. My father is a doctor, as smart as the day is long, and he expects no less of me. It is very important to him, and it is to me, but sometimes I question that. I moved out of the house at an early age, around 16. I moved away to college at 18 and got an apartment right away. I figured my father would help me pay for this since education is so important to him, but to my surprise, he did not. I began to work very long hours and everything became a chore. I got no sleep whatsoever first year, maybe two hours a night. I was miserable.

I am a little better off now, but my classes are getting hard. All my time is devoted to school or work, school or work. My workplace is very superficial, although I am glad to have a better paying job. I am constantly worried about my appearance, my money, my grades. I am all alone, and that’s how I like it. I have cut off communication with any of my friends anymore, because they are constantly getting on my nerves or, I feel like, criticizing me. I am not happy in any form. My life is a constant run of school work and work.

I am wondering if I’m not happy, what is the point? I dreamed as a little girl that I would go off to college and be good at it, be a psychiatrist and fix mental illnesses, dedicate my life to it, but would that make me happy? I changed my degree because I decided it would not, but will science make me happy? I feel like a constant failure. I am making Cs in the majority of my tests this semester, and have had no leisure time. I dream of seeing the world, living a carefree and poor life, helping people. Is that where I’m headed? I don’t remember the last time I was content with nothing on my mind on a warm day laying in the grass. I don’t remember the last time I didn’t worry about where I was going and when I had to be there while riding in the car. I don’t remember the last time I slept 8 hours and didn’t think how much time I just wasted. I don’t remember the last time I had someone or something that was more important to me than paying my bills and doing well in school. I don’t remember the last time I didn’t feel anxious and like I was a failure.

So what’s the point in life if I’m not happy? How can I be happy like this?