I kind of hate how this is probably one of the best ways to describe my relationship to the world.
>a bourgeois right of passage
It kind of is, because people still have this reflex that degree = the big cash
from the days of the communist dictatorship when only the exceptionally gifted and the exceptionally connected got into a university.
Of course a lot of lazy cunts also use it to avoid joining the workforce. (Because it's ""free"" if you have the score necessary for a faculty)
If I were to be honest, in part I'm here too because my mother insisted ever since I was a little boy.
She wanted to go to uni, but here results sucked because she had to work to help support the family.
Since I entered first grade, she periodically warned and told me to study, so I can get ahead in life.
I guess I had this prepare for standards and expectations that don't even exist
thing drilled into me since my childhood.
To my credit, I rectified my motivations later down the line, but ultimately, it was how my life was planned. I just got to pick a degree.
(But then again, when we had lunch with my mother, just the two of us, and I asked her "what was the plan", she just said that she only wanted me to get the two language certificates, because languages are important, and after that "it's up to you".)
I don't know if "narrativising" my life is a good coping mechanism or not. It's probably where the chuuniness comes from, because I think I'm the hero/protagonist of this something that I perceive as progressing. Couple this with the cognitive dissonance of feeling unworthy for no reason and life becomes really fun. It's probably what causes these swings where one day I'm the king of the world, a demigod, and in the other I don't want to get out of bed.
Thinking about this just makes me want to cry again.