Is there any reason to be optimistic right now?

I suppose I should try to summarize my life, mostly because I’m struggling to make sense of why I feel so profoundly dissatisfied with where I am and who I’ve become.
My parents split up when I was just three years old, largely because my mother battles schizophrenia. I don't have much memory of those early years, but I know what happened through the stories told by others—mostly my paternal grandmother. She once told me that my mother didn't even want to carry me, fearing she would give birth to someone like Hitler; apparently, right after delivery, she was moved from a standard maternity ward to a psychiatric unit, which meant I didn't even see her for three months. Looking back, those might have been my first real traumas—that initial absence of a mother. There was constant fighting between her and my dad, frequent hospital stays, and eventually, by the time I was three, my father pushed for and received a divorce.

For three years following the split, I lived with my grandmother, until my father remarried when I was six. That brought a stepmother and two half-brothers into the picture (one of my stepbrothers was born out of wedlock), and I grew up in that environment until I turned 18. My stepmother was a very cold, high-strung woman; she used to hit all three of us, though her biological son—the one I mentioned—usually took the brunt of it. For me, however, the physical discipline left deeper scars. In school, I was incredibly withdrawn, mostly because I was constantly weighed down by the tension at home, terrified that if I made even the slightest mistake, I'd face more violence. My teachers noticed I was quiet, but they didn't really step in; they were too busy dealing with the more disruptive kids in class, never realizing that the child sitting silently in the corner is often the one carrying the heaviest burden.

As I got older, the punishments at home decreased, but I remained an introverted, somewhat odd kid, bordering on asocial. Academically, I did quite well—I had a real knack for math and later physics—though I suspect I could have done better. During my long study sessions, my mind would frequently drift elsewhere, so I’d say my actual effective learning time was maybe twenty percent. After middle school, I transferred to a specialized math academy in a different city because my local school didn't offer anything that rigorous. Fitting in was a massive struggle; my peers saw me as strange or confused, though they accepted me well enough. I managed to graduate with solid marks, and I even placed second in a regional physics competition.

Later, I decided to move back to my hometown to attend a general high school, which turned out to be a wise choice. The workload was more manageable, and even though I felt a bit less academically driven, I passed every grade with top marks. However, during my sophomore year, I started experiencing intrusive thoughts rooted in homophobia, along with a sudden onset of emotional apathy. This loss of warmth felt like a warning sign, as it's often a precursor to schizophrenia. I felt increasingly lost as time went on, yet somehow, I still managed to finish high school with honors.

College, however, was a different story entirely. I enrolled in the engineering program at a major university in Chicago, but after a disastrous first semester, I ended up hospitalized for depression. That period led to a massive fallout with my father, and since then, I’ve had to support myself entirely. I spent the following year working various odd jobs—construction sites, warehouses (serving food just wasn't my thing)—while preparing to re-apply to school, specifically aiming for MIT. I actually had no trouble getting back in, since the entrance requirements focused mainly on math, physics, and my high school GPA.
After a second unsuccessful first semester, my mental health took a sharp turn for the worse, leading to two consecutive psychotic episodes, diagnosed as paranoid schizophrenia.

I have recovered reasonably well since then. I’ve been consistently medicated for over four years now, and while things improved, they only ever stabilized to the level I was at before the psychosis. The depression, the confusion, the slowness, and the social isolation remain. This year, I finally withdrew from my studies at MIT; the curriculum is just too grueling for me—honestly, maybe any intense program would be too much for someone in my position.

Since moving to the city seven years ago, I’ve worked a lot of part-time student jobs, and everywhere I go, the feedback is the same: people describe me as anxious, confused, or antisocial. In some places, I was able to stay on, but in others, I was let go. Once, a coworker actually asked me, "Why are you so quiet? You act like someone everyone just walks all over." Another person was even crueler, asking if I was so socially stunted because of some childhood trauma involving my relatives.
My doctor is involved with a private non-profit, so I’ve been attending free group psychotherapy sessions there. In those sessions, they try to reassure me that I'm normal and that I'm just overthinking things—and granted, compared to people facing much more severe mental crises, I suppose I am. But when I step out into the world and interact with healthy, neurotypical people, I can see clearly that I am not like them, and unfortunately, many people tell me the same thing.

The hardest part for me is feeling like there isn’t any real way to change things down the road. I have this deep desire to just have a normal career and a family of my own, but given my health struggles and just how I am wired, that feels like pure science fiction. These late hours at night are especially tough on me. I find myself looking back at my past with so much negativity, feeling completely unfulfilled with where I am now, and viewing the future through a pretty pessimistic lens. I’ve spent a lot of time talking to specialists and I stay consistent with my medications—things like Risperdal, Zyprexa, Effexor, and Norvasc—and I even dive into self-help books quite often, yet I still can't shake this sense of dissatisfaction with my life. It honestly feels like everyone else is more capable and much happier than I am. Since most of my existence feels like an uphill battle, there are moments when I genuinely wish I had never been born.

I’m just hoping someone here might be able to relate to what I’m going through, and that I’ve managed to convey the weight of my situation even a little bit. Thanks in advance for listening. 🙂

Harold Anderson3 said:I suppose I should try to summarize my life, mostly because I’m struggling to make sense of why I feel so profoundly dissatisfied with where I am and who I’ve become.
My parents split up when I was just three years old, largely because my mother battles schizophrenia. I don't have much memory of those early years, but I know what happened through the stories told by others—mostly my paternal grandmother. She once told me that my mother didn't even want to carry me, fearing she would give birth to someone like Hitler; apparently, right after delivery, she was moved from a standard maternity ward to a psychiatric unit, which meant I didn't even see her for three months. Looking back, those might have been my first real traumas—that initial absence of a mother. There was constant fighting between her and my dad, frequent hospital stays, and eventually, by the time I was three, my father pushed for and received a divorce.

For three years following the split, I lived with my grandmother, until my father remarried when I was six. That brought a stepmother and two half-brothers into the picture (one of my stepbrothers was born out of wedlock), and I grew up in that environment until I turned 18. My stepmother was a very cold, high-strung woman; she used to hit all three of us, though her biological son—the one I mentioned—usually took the brunt of it. For me, however, the physical discipline left deeper scars. In school, I was incredibly withdrawn, mostly because I was constantly weighed down by the tension at home, terrified that if I made even the slightest mistake, I'd face more violence. My teachers noticed I was quiet, but they didn't really step in; they were too busy dealing with the more disruptive kids in class, never realizing that the child sitting silently in the corner is often the one carrying the heaviest burden.

As I got older, the punishments at home decreased, but I remained an introverted, somewhat odd kid, bordering on asocial. Academically, I did quite well—I had a real knack for math and later physics—though I suspect I could have done better. During my long study sessions, my mind would frequently drift elsewhere, so I’d say my actual effective learning time was maybe twenty percent. After middle school, I transferred to a specialized math academy in a different city because my local school didn't offer anything that rigorous. Fitting in was a massive struggle; my peers saw me as strange or confused, though they accepted me well enough. I managed to graduate with solid marks, and I even placed second in a regional physics competition.

Later, I decided to move back to my hometown to attend a general high school, which turned out to be a wise choice. The workload was more manageable, and even though I felt a bit less academically driven, I passed every grade with top marks. However, during my sophomore year, I started experiencing intrusive thoughts rooted in homophobia, along with a sudden onset of emotional apathy. This loss of warmth felt like a warning sign, as it's often a precursor to schizophrenia. I felt increasingly lost as time went on, yet somehow, I still managed to finish high school with honors.

College, however, was a different story entirely. I enrolled in the engineering program at a major university in Chicago, but after a disastrous first semester, I ended up hospitalized for depression. That period led to a massive fallout with my father, and since then, I’ve had to support myself entirely. I spent the following year working various odd jobs—construction sites, warehouses (serving food just wasn't my thing)—while preparing to re-apply to school, specifically aiming for MIT. I actually had no trouble getting back in, since the entrance requirements focused mainly on math, physics, and my high school GPA.
After a second unsuccessful first semester, my mental health took a sharp turn for the worse, leading to two consecutive psychotic episodes, diagnosed as paranoid schizophrenia.

I have recovered reasonably well since then. I’ve been consistently medicated for over four years now, and while things improved, they only ever stabilized to the level I was at before the psychosis. The depression, the confusion, the slowness, and the social isolation remain. This year, I finally withdrew from my studies at MIT; the curriculum is just too grueling for me—honestly, maybe any intense program would be too much for someone in my position.

Since moving to the city seven years ago, I’ve worked a lot of part-time student jobs, and everywhere I go, the feedback is the same: people describe me as anxious, confused, or antisocial. In some places, I was able to stay on, but in others, I was let go. Once, a coworker actually asked me, "Why are you so quiet? You act like someone everyone just walks all over." Another person was even crueler, asking if I was so socially stunted because of some childhood trauma involving my relatives.
My doctor is involved with a private non-profit, so I’ve been attending free group psychotherapy sessions there. In those sessions, they try to reassure me that I'm normal and that I'm just overthinking things—and granted, compared to people facing much more severe mental crises, I suppose I am. But when I step out into the world and interact with healthy, neurotypical people, I can see clearly that I am not like them, and unfortunately, many people tell me the same thing.

The hardest part for me is feeling like there isn’t any real way to change things down the road. I have this deep desire to just have a normal career and a family of my own, but given my health struggles and just how I am wired, that feels like pure science fiction. These late hours at night are especially tough on me. I find myself looking back at my past with so much negativity, feeling completely unfulfilled with where I am now, and viewing the future through a pretty pessimistic lens. I’ve spent a lot of time talking to specialists and I stay consistent with my medications—things like Risperdal, Zyprexa, Effexor, and Norvasc—and I even dive into self-help books quite often, yet I still can't shake this sense of dissatisfaction with my life. It honestly feels like everyone else is more capable and much happier than I am. Since most of my existence feels like an uphill battle, there are moments when I genuinely wish I had never been born.

I’m just hoping someone here might be able to relate to what I’m going through, and that I’ve managed to convey the weight of my situation even a little bit. Thanks in advance for listening. 🙂

Ha, quite an interesting story.🙂
Look, you aren't alone in this; you aren't some unique outlier. You should read the impressions and experiences of others who grapple with your specific problem or something similar. You will see that with proper, consistent therapy, one can live quite a decent life—provided you live in accordance with your current capabilities.
That is where the issue lies.
You are comparing your life as it once was to how it is now, and based on those two unrealistic frameworks, you are constructing your entire future.
No matter how you approach it, the future always appears jagged and uneven.
Essentially, something within that thought process must shift; every single time, the result is poor—much like our national basketball team's performance lately.😁
Lower your expectations, because you are starting—or rather, you are already operating—from entirely different parameters due to the disorder.
First, you must come to terms with yourself; you are who you are, and there is no other version of you. This won't just vanish, but it can recede, allowing you to live normally alongside that realization.
I have been on medication for nearly twenty years. If a disorder is such that it cannot tolerate occasional breaks in treatment, then you take them and you understand your reality.
Psychotherapy is, on one hand, a massive leap forward in reducing the stigma surrounding mental health, and on the other, a vital step toward better social communication.
Please, do not abandon psychotherapy.
It isn't easy, I know, but examine all the options—even the ones you feel don't exist—analyze the situation as objectively as possible, draw a line in the sand, and you will see that you do have choices: you can live a quality life.
Even a demanding job can sometimes provide immense satisfaction simply because everything was accomplished by your own will and your own hands.
Falling into despair is merely an unnecessary waste of precious time.
Tuck the past away into "drawers" in your mind, and using these facts about yourself, begin to slowly build a future.😉

Diego... self-help is just mental masturbation. Either you're gonna let some pseudo-intellectual hack talk you through a haze of "finding yourself," or you're gonna break out of the box entirely.
There’s no third option. At least, not if you're being real. Most people just hide from the world, trying to fit into their own little bubble, reshaping themselves just to cope...
It works for a minute. Using drugs—legal or otherwise—is basically just buying more time for those old patterns to keep running... But what’s screaming outside those patterns...
what’s lurking underneath them... is the stuff you actually have to "deal with." You have to face it, define it, and figure out exactly what it is... then learn to live with the noise in your own head...
Take all that past bullshit out of the closet, throw it on the table, and stare down whatever "identity" you built based on old mistakes... Fear is the biggest enemy here...
Fear is what keeps you from actually existing. Facing it means asking where all that baggage came from in the first place.
Once you answer that and decide that your history doesn't get to define you anymore... that's when you're actually free...
Free from yourself.......... To live without that "old version" of you; right now... No matter what. No fear.

ps

check my signature... then "think about it"...

"..where [I am; coming from..] do I go?.."

There's plenty of us... "confused" souls.....

Harold Anderson3 said:I suppose I should try to summarize my life, mostly because I’m struggling to make sense of why I feel so profoundly dissatisfied with where I am and who I’ve become.
My parents split up when I was just three years old, largely because my mother battles schizophrenia. I don't have much memory of those early years, but I know what happened through the stories told by others—mostly my paternal grandmother. She once told me that my mother didn't even want to carry me, fearing she would give birth to someone like Hitler; apparently, right after delivery, she was moved from a standard maternity ward to a psychiatric unit, which meant I didn't even see her for three months. Looking back, those might have been my first real traumas—that initial absence of a mother. There was constant fighting between her and my dad, frequent hospital stays, and eventually, by the time I was three, my father pushed for and received a divorce.

For three years following the split, I lived with my grandmother, until my father remarried when I was six. That brought a stepmother and two half-brothers into the picture (one of my stepbrothers was born out of wedlock), and I grew up in that environment until I turned 18. My stepmother was a very cold, high-strung woman; she used to hit all three of us, though her biological son—the one I mentioned—usually took the brunt of it. For me, however, the physical discipline left deeper scars. In school, I was incredibly withdrawn, mostly because I was constantly weighed down by the tension at home, terrified that if I made even the slightest mistake, I'd face more violence. My teachers noticed I was quiet, but they didn't really step in; they were too busy dealing with the more disruptive kids in class, never realizing that the child sitting silently in the corner is often the one carrying the heaviest burden.

As I got older, the punishments at home decreased, but I remained an introverted, somewhat odd kid, bordering on asocial. Academically, I did quite well—I had a real knack for math and later physics—though I suspect I could have done better. During my long study sessions, my mind would frequently drift elsewhere, so I’d say my actual effective learning time was maybe twenty percent. After middle school, I transferred to a specialized math academy in a different city because my local school didn't offer anything that rigorous. Fitting in was a massive struggle; my peers saw me as strange or confused, though they accepted me well enough. I managed to graduate with solid marks, and I even placed second in a regional physics competition.

Later, I decided to move back to my hometown to attend a general high school, which turned out to be a wise choice. The workload was more manageable, and even though I felt a bit less academically driven, I passed every grade with top marks. However, during my sophomore year, I started experiencing intrusive thoughts rooted in homophobia, along with a sudden onset of emotional apathy. This loss of warmth felt like a warning sign, as it's often a precursor to schizophrenia. I felt increasingly lost as time went on, yet somehow, I still managed to finish high school with honors.

College, however, was a different story entirely. I enrolled in the engineering program at a major university in Chicago, but after a disastrous first semester, I ended up hospitalized for depression. That period led to a massive fallout with my father, and since then, I’ve had to support myself entirely. I spent the following year working various odd jobs—construction sites, warehouses (serving food just wasn't my thing)—while preparing to re-apply to school, specifically aiming for MIT. I actually had no trouble getting back in, since the entrance requirements focused mainly on math, physics, and my high school GPA.
After a second unsuccessful first semester, my mental health took a sharp turn for the worse, leading to two consecutive psychotic episodes, diagnosed as paranoid schizophrenia.

I have recovered reasonably well since then. I’ve been consistently medicated for over four years now, and while things improved, they only ever stabilized to the level I was at before the psychosis. The depression, the confusion, the slowness, and the social isolation remain. This year, I finally withdrew from my studies at MIT; the curriculum is just too grueling for me—honestly, maybe any intense program would be too much for someone in my position.

Since moving to the city seven years ago, I’ve worked a lot of part-time student jobs, and everywhere I go, the feedback is the same: people describe me as anxious, confused, or antisocial. In some places, I was able to stay on, but in others, I was let go. Once, a coworker actually asked me, "Why are you so quiet? You act like someone everyone just walks all over." Another person was even crueler, asking if I was so socially stunted because of some childhood trauma involving my relatives.
My doctor is involved with a private non-profit, so I’ve been attending free group psychotherapy sessions there. In those sessions, they try to reassure me that I'm normal and that I'm just overthinking things—and granted, compared to people facing much more severe mental crises, I suppose I am. But when I step out into the world and interact with healthy, neurotypical people, I can see clearly that I am not like them, and unfortunately, many people tell me the same thing.

The hardest part for me is feeling like there isn’t any real way to change things down the road. I have this deep desire to just have a normal career and a family of my own, but given my health struggles and just how I am wired, that feels like pure science fiction. These late hours at night are especially tough on me. I find myself looking back at my past with so much negativity, feeling completely unfulfilled with where I am now, and viewing the future through a pretty pessimistic lens. I’ve spent a lot of time talking to specialists and I stay consistent with my medications—things like Risperdal, Zyprexa, Effexor, and Norvasc—and I even dive into self-help books quite often, yet I still can't shake this sense of dissatisfaction with my life. It honestly feels like everyone else is more capable and much happier than I am. Since most of my existence feels like an uphill battle, there are moments when I genuinely wish I had never been born.

I’m just hoping someone here might be able to relate to what I’m going through, and that I’ve managed to convey the weight of my situation even a little bit. Thanks in advance for listening. 🙂

I'd say you're just more sensitive than most. External stuff hits you harder. The thing is, you're who you are. You can't force a change.

I deal with similar issues myself, just a bit more mellow (probably not as reactive as you 🤷). I eventually set my life up so I could step away from people who don't fit and surround myself with those I actually click with. They aren't lifelong best friends, but they're a small circle where conversation actually makes sense.

The point is to organize your life strictly how it works for you. If you have nothing to say to someone—or just don't feel like talking—don't. Just move on. If you find someone you can actually connect with, invest in them (without being overbearing, obviously). And who says you need to start a family right now? You're young. My dad was 42 when he had me, and I'm an only child.🤣

Relax a little. Do things your way instead of trying to mimic everyone else.

I was at the same university you dropped out of. Every semester, I regret enrolling at least five times because it's a grind. When it gets bad, I just grit my teeth and push through. It’s the only way to finish. I was failing everything during my freshman year, and now I'm a senior.

Just keep living on your own terms, within your own limits. Things will work out. It might not look the way you want right now, but a few years can change everything.

I should probably start by admitting that my moods are incredibly volatile; I can look at the exact same situation one moment and feel completely negative about it, then shift to feeling positive, or just end up feeling totally neutral the next.
Because of this instability, one doctor suggested it might be schizoaffective disorder, mixed type, while another thought it could just be standard bipolar disorder, especially since I’ve really only dealt with one psychotic episode about four and a half years ago. That said, there's a very high chance the psychosis would return if I ever decided to stop taking Risperdal or Zyprexa.

Blue Ivy said:
Well, that's quite an interesting story.🙂
Look, you aren't alone in this, and you certainly aren't some unique case. If you take the time to read through the impressions and experiences of others who deal with your specific struggle or something similar, you'll see that with steady, proper treatment, you can live a perfectly decent life—as long as you stay within the bounds of what you're currently capable of.
That seems to be where your issue lies.
You're comparing the life you used to have with the life you have now, and you're building your vision of the future based on those two unrealistic comparisons.
No matter how you approach it, the future always feels a bit bumpy when you think like that.
Essentially, something in your way of thinking has to change, because right now, the result is consistently disappointing, much like our national baseball team's performance lately.😁
Try lowering your expectations, because you're starting from—or rather, already operating from—a completely different baseline due to the disorder.
You first need to make peace with yourself; you are who you are, and there isn't anyone else. This won't just vanish, but it can recede enough that you can live normally with the knowledge of it.
I've been on medication for nearly 20 years, and if a disorder is the kind that doesn't tolerate breaks in treatment, then you just take them and accept what needs to be done.
Psychotherapy is a massive step forward, both in terms of reducing the stigma surrounding people with schizophrenia spectrum disorders and in improving social communication.
Please don't give up on therapy.
I know it isn't easy, but try to weigh all your options—even the ones that don't seem available—analyze the situation as objectively as possible, draw a line in the sand, and you'll see that you actually have choices: you can live a quality life.
Sometimes, even a demanding job can provide a sense of satisfaction simply because everything was accomplished through your own willpower and effort.
Falling into despair is really just an unnecessary waste of time.
Tuck the past away in "mental drawers" and use the facts of who you are today to slowly build a future.😉

That is such a beautiful response. A psychologist I saw at the clinic once mentioned how vital it is for those of us with this diagnosis to accept that we are ill and to figure out what we can still achieve in life despite it. Everyone's path is different, truly varied, depending on the severity of the illness, one's abilities outside of the diagnosis, their attitude toward being sick, and how well they cooperate with their doctors.
In my case, my condition definitely doesn't allow for gaps in treatment, at least not regarding pharmacotherapy. I know the difference immediately if I drop my Zyprexa dose from 5mg to 2.5mg over a few days. With psychotherapy, it isn't quite as rigid, but it's still something worth doing regularly.
The drastic mood swings are also a struggle, though perhaps they're just unavoidable, since they happened even when I was on stabilizers like Lamictal.
I'm doing okay right now; I just hope it stays this way. 😁

ironrider11 said:Diego... self-help is just mental masturbation. Either you're gonna let some pseudo-intellectual hack talk you through a haze of "finding yourself," or you're gonna break out of the box entirely.
There’s no third option. At least, not if you're being real. Most people just hide from the world, trying to fit into their own little bubble, reshaping themselves just to cope...
It works for a minute. Using drugs—legal or otherwise—is basically just buying more time for those old patterns to keep running... But what’s screaming outside those patterns...
what’s lurking underneath them... is the stuff you actually have to "deal with." You have to face it, define it, and figure out exactly what it is... then learn to live with the noise in your own head...
Take all that past bullshit out of the closet, throw it on the table, and stare down whatever "identity" you built based on old mistakes... Fear is the biggest enemy here...
Fear is what keeps you from actually existing. Facing it means asking where all that baggage came from in the first place.
Once you answer that and decide that your history doesn't get to define you anymore... that's when you're actually free...
Free from yourself.......... To live without that "old version" of you; right now... No matter what. No fear.

I've heard plenty of people dismiss self-help as nonsense, but I don't quite agree with that view. Not entirely, anyway. A huge chunk of new releases fall under the self-help umbrella, so there's a wide spectrum of quality there. I don't believe positive thinking alone can fix everything—as much as people like Louise Hay might suggest—but I find a lot of value in more grounded authors like Stephen Covey, Eckhart Tolle, or Scott Peck. Some books are just good for passing the time, while others actually offer some real insight. It really just comes down to what works for the individual.
The same goes for medication; there's a massive difference between legal prescriptions and illegal substances. For someone struggling with severe mental health issues, certain medications are absolutely essential just to function on a daily basis. They make life manageable.
And we definitely need to address our fears, that much is true. But it shouldn't be done through sudden, manic shifts, because that's exactly how I ended up triggering my own psychosis. On the flip side, you can't ignore fear entirely either; a little bit of it is necessary for navigating life normally. Too much of it, however, makes everything incredibly difficult.
I can't click on the link right now because my internet speeds have been throttled until the start of next month, but I'm planning to check it out in about ten days. 😉

urbanmoose2 said:I'd say you're just more sensitive than most. External stuff hits you harder. The thing is, you're who you are. You can't force a change.

I deal with similar issues myself, just a bit more mellow (probably not as reactive as you 🤷). I eventually set my life up so I could step away from people who don't fit and surround myself with those I actually click with. They aren't lifelong best friends, but they're a small circle where conversation actually makes sense.

The point is to organize your life strictly how it works for you. If you have nothing to say to someone—or just don't feel like talking—don't. Just move on. If you find someone you can actually connect with, invest in them (without being overbearing, obviously). And who says you need to start a family right now? You're young. My dad was 42 when he had me, and I'm an only child.🤣

Relax a little. Do things your way instead of trying to mimic everyone else.

I was at the same university you dropped out of. Every semester, I regret enrolling at least five times because it's a grind. When it gets bad, I just grit my teeth and push through. It’s the only way to finish. I was failing everything during my freshman year, and now I'm a senior.

Just keep living on your own terms, within your own limits. Things will work out. It might not look the way you want right now, but a few years can change everything.

I think I might be genetically more sensitive than most people, but it’s also true that I dealt with the kind of stuff most kids go through growing up. You can't really combine two negative factors and expect a positive outcome, because they tend to add up rather than cancel each other out.😁
I have a handful of good friends, though I try to be careful not to "suffocate" them by dumping all my problems on them; instead, I make a conscious effort to listen and carry some of their burdens too when we talk. And of course, we don't just dwell on the bad stuff—we all have a bright side to life, even if it looks a little different for everyone.🤷

Anyway, it’s actually really nice to hear from someone who went to my old college, and who knows, maybe we'll end up being colleagues someday since I'm planning to enroll in an Electrical Engineering program. Maybe everything will just work out in the end after all.🙂