The Curse of Psychology

From the moment I chose my degree all the way to the present, the pattern remained.

“You’re studying Psychology? Can you tell if something is wrong with us?”

I always brushed it off with a nervous laugh, unsure of what to say. How does one respond to that?

Do you lie?

Do you tell the truth?

Or…

Do you come up with a nonexistent ethical violation to escape the situation?

What. Do. You. Do?

During my first semester, my teacher told us that people will ask for advice. They will come to you with all kinds of questions. And what’s important for us to do is ask for money and then say whatever we want.

Naturally, we all laughed.

It was a joke, no?

That soon proved otherwise.

The question came up…and the pattern remained…while I stayed the same.

Nervous. Uncertain.

Normally, it’s meant to be lighthearted. I know it is. My brain knows. My heart knows.

But something in the back of my mind…stutters, stumbles, and then falls.

The smile on my face falters for a split second before coming back up.

Every. Single. Time.

And then I ask myself…what do I say? What should I say?

And it’s funnier because you know the answer.

You know the habits. You know the faults. You know the wrongs and the rights. You know the steps being missed. You know the behavior, and you know what’s coming next.

Maybe not always…but you can make educated guesses.

And that’s the problem…

Sure, Psychology is…woah. You get to study a lot about people, and eventually figure out their ways and tricks.

It is fun. Interesting.

But it strips away a part of you you never consented to.

It starts off small, and soon enough, you see it.

A kaleidoscope of behaviors. Fascinating at first…but then predictable.

See, when you study Psychology, you’re taught to be observant, critical, and most importantly…unbiased.

Which opens up another problem.

You get roped into issues and situations that never concerned you.

Why?

Because you can listen.

Psychology becomes the very tool that skins your innocence away, leaving you bare for the rest of the world. It pulls away the right you had to look away and pretend you don’t see it.

Pretend that you’re untainted.

Pretend that you’re dumb.

And…look away.

Sure, it can be argued that exposure does the same thing. Being slapped by life does the same thing…

Yes, but when you study Psychology…you lose the right to hide it.

You may be tired, bored, angry, or sad…but none of it is a good enough reason for your brain to stop assembling the puzzle. You zone out not because you want to, but because your mind refuses to rest. Thoughts swarm, patterns stretch, and everything starts to look like a never-ending highway…always branching, always growing.

You want to stop noticing things.

But you can’t.

And the reason I have started to hate it is because sometimes I read posts, messages, or even listen to conversations, and my mind unconsciously starts clicking words, phrases, anything it can find into place.

Almost as if it’s trying to find a pattern that doesn’t exist, to force a narrative into being.

It happens quickly, before I even realize what I’m doing.

Sometimes I figure it out. Sometimes I stop myself in time.

The times I stop are the times I’m grateful. And for the times I’m too late? I feel guilty, because it feels like I invaded something I wasn’t supposed to.

I realize things before people are ready to say them out loud. My mind connects the dots on its own, and I end up resenting it. When they finally do come forward, the comfort I offer feels rehearsed, almost dishonest—as if I arrived at the right place too early and waited there.

I hate it.

I may not say it or even show it.

But I notice…even when I wish I didn’t.

And sometimes I don’t know how to explain it without sounding dramatic or crazy.

So…I keep it to myself. It’s a bit lonely, but necessary. Because I know most people won’t understand…and I’ve stopped expecting them to.

Oooff…going a bit deep since the semester ended…

Please bare with me 🙏