I'm a 21 year old female college dropout. In literally the last couple weeks of my freshman year at a Midwestern community college, I dropped out after realizing that I didn't have any idea what I really wanted to do with my life and decided that I would commit suicide instead.
Still living at home and still working my high school job in food service for barely more than minimum wage, I became a recluse and slept all day, only waking to go to my job, eat, piss, and reassure my mother that I was fine. Why in the hell she believed me each time I do not know, but I don't blame her for anything. Except not putting any money aside at any point to help pay for college. ((Thus the community college.))
About a month after dropping out and procrastinating on the suicide, an aunt alerted me that there were job openings at her factory about an hour from home. She said the jobs were temporary summer jobs, meant only to last three months, and offered to rent me a room in her house for as long as they lasted. Figuring anything was better than killing myself at that point, but certainly not ruling killing myself out, I moved in to her place and began my career as a machine operator in a water valve factory.
For the first six months I was bent on killing myself. I researched my options seriously, took out life insurance on myself with my mother as the beneficiary, settled on offing myself via helium inhalation, and figured out where and for how much I could get all of my supplies.
Then things started not sucking so much. I resigned to the fact that I worked in a washing machine guts factory for good pay and awesome benefits, and decided I'd look for an apartment and try living on my own for awhile. If that failed, I figured I'd off myself in my own place on my own time. Sounded like a great plan and I began to enjoy myself.
Fast forward to a year and seven months later. I'm still living in that room and still working that "temporary" job. Every once in a while I get these horrible regret pangs for having dropped out and having never had the "college experience" that 90% of the western world's population has. I just feel incomplete and like nothing will get me over it. I want so bad to be in college, learning and making friends and just doing something. But here I am, at square one with no funds and no idea what in the fuck I want to "do when I grow up."
The reason for this thread is not for advice on how to get $80,000 worth of grants or for encouragement to go back to school. What I want and need is reassurance that not all is lost. I want to hear from other college dropouts and people who just never went but are living fulfilling lives despite that. Just share your story. I need to know that all is not lost, that choosing not to go to college is not the end of the world. Anything, anything that could help me. I've been well lately, and just today I'm sinking back in to "maybe I should kill myself (despite obviously not being 100% behind it)" mode. I hope to apply for antidepressant medication soon. I believe that will help.
Please. Any wisdom, advice, or experience you can share. Thank you.