Is it worth taking a gap year?

um… well, hello!

This post will most likely be quite long and not entirely coherent, so I’d like to thank anyone who reads it all the way to the end—or even just part of it.
Also, English isn’t my native language, so I might make some mistakes. Please forgive me if I phrase something awkwardly or incorrectly.

I’ve been thinking about all of this for a long time, and I finally decided to share my story with strangers in the hope of hearing different perspectives and maybe getting some advice from people who maybe have been in a similar situation (?)

I think it’s important to mention that I studied online from the very first grade. It wasn’t because of any health issues or anything like that, but it wasn’t my decision either. My mother decided that this was how I would be educated.

It’s also worth mentioning that we live outside the city—not exactly in the countryside, but somewhere close to it. Although I was born in the capital, I’ve been living here since early childhood.

When I was in primary school, it wasn’t a problem for me at all. In fact, it was really convenient. My school had exams every semester, everything was done online (and could be retaken an unlimited number of times, lol), so getting through each school year wasn’t particularly difficult.

There were no proper lectures. Each lesson lasted anywhere from ten minutes to an hour, and all of them had been recorded years before I even started school by elderly women who seemed to have absolutely no interest in teaching. There was no feedback, either. I’ve never had a “teacher” in the conventional sense of the word (not even one I could have hated).
Despite all of that, practically everything I learned was the result of my own curiosity and self-discipline. I never had homework or in-person exams, and yes, there was never any need to stress about school.

Everything was fine until I started secondary school. I still had plenty of free time, but I spent all of it sitting at home. It wasn’t because I was especially shy or afraid of people. I simply didn’t know where to start or how to get involved in anything. I wanted to try new things, make friends (I only had online ones), and experience what I imagined a normal teenage life was supposed to be like. At least, that’s how I saw it back then.
While trying to find something that interested me, I discovered drawing. I absolutely loved it. When I was around 13 or 14, I started posting my art on social media and even built a small following. Eventually, though, I gave it up because I felt I needed to focus on my exams.

I’ve always been drawn to creativity. It influences almost every aspect of my life. I spend a lot of time reading books (including manga and manhwa), watching movies and TV shows, listening to music for hours every day, and pursuing my passion for drawing and graphic design.

Throughout middle school, I repeatedly asked my parents to transfer me to a regular school, but they always refused. They insisted that school will be “bad” and “scary,” saying that I would inevitably run into cruel teachers, unpleasant classmates, pointless lessons, and so on.
Of course, I knew that wasn’t entirely true, but… hearing those things over and over again inevitably shaped the way I viewed school. I didn't hear anything good about school from my relatives, I was just constantly being scared.
So even though I genuinely wanted to give it a try, I never managed to fully commit to that decision.

At some point, I realized that I wouldn’t be able to improve as an artist on my own—I needed guidance from someone more experienced. Deep down, I knew that. I asked my mother countless times to let me attend art classes, but there was always an excuse: “Now isn’t the right time,” “You’ll burn out,” “You won’t enjoy it,” or “You won’t be good enough.” This went on for about three years, and eventually I just got tired of asking the same question over and over again.

After finishing the ninth grade, I wanted to try again—this time by applying to college, just like everyone else my age. I had done well on my exams and had already started preparing my application, but then my father insisted that I pursue higher education instead, arguing that it would be more useful and would open more doors in the future. To be eligible for university, however, I first had to complete two more years of school. So I ended up staying at home for another two years.

By the time I reached the tenth grade, I had mostly given up. I just drifted through life without worrying much about school. I still tried to improve my drawing skills through free YouTube tutorials, but I couldn’t see any noticeable progress. I’d practice for a while, then lose motivation and stop drawing for months before eventually picking it up again. It was a cycle that repeated itself over and over. That was when my period of stagnation began. Honestly, I barely remember that year because it was terribly uneventful.

Despite all of that, I still wanted to build my future around creativity. Toward the end of tenth grade, I gave it some serious thought and decided that I wanted to become a designer. It seemed like a profession that combined creativity with practical skills and offered good career opportunities. However, when I shared this idea with my family, I was met with disapproval once again. Or rather, my mother was indifferent, while my father dismissed it as “nonsense.” At the same time, neither of them suggested an alternative or explained what exactly they disliked about the idea.

And… I made one of the biggest mistakes of my life by falling into the same trap once again. For some reason, I listened to them and decided to take exams in the most general humanities subjects—Social Studies and English. At the same time, I also chose Literature simply to keep the possibility of applying for a creative major, since it was a required subject for many art-related programs.
Despite having good grades, my actual knowledge of both Literature and Social Studies was almost nonexistent. Literature is also considered one of the most difficult exams, so I decided to focus almost entirely on Social Studies and spent my entire final year preparing for it.

I won’t go into detail about my preparation. In short, I studied seriously and was aiming to score at least 70 out of 100. But about a month before the exams began, I suddenly realized that I genuinely wanted to pursue a creative career. I realized I needed it like air, and that I had absolutely no desire to become an economist, financial specialist, teacher, PR or something else.

That realization completely shattered all the plans I had spent a year building. For the next month, I lived in a constant state of stress and anxiety, but I decided to take the Literature exam anyway. I prepared for it entirely on my own, without tutors or courses. I had far too much confidence in my own abilities—and that turned out to be another mistake. I spent that entire month desperately trying to catch up, but in the end I received a disappointing score. It was enough to pass, but nowhere near high enough to get into most universities.

To make matters even worse, Literature was the very first exam I took, so it completely crushed my confidence. As a result, I performed only moderately well on my remaining exams. I scored around 70–75 points, which was close to what I had expected anyway, but stress and nerves caused me to make countless careless mistakes, many of which I noticed the moment I walked out of the exam room. It was incredibly frustrating. By the end of it all, I was so emotionally exhausted that I simply stopped caring about the results.

Unfortunately, finishing the exams didn’t bring me any relief. Throughout June, I couldn’t stop thinking about what I should do next.
I still want to study art or design, but even to get into a university on a tuition-paying basis, I first have to pass an entrance exam in drawing. The problem is that I spent my entire final year preparing for completely different subjects. Realistically, passing that exam now would require either a miracle or a serious underestimation of my own abilities. I’m still going to try, because I have nothing to lose—but I understand that my chances aren’t particularly high.

And now I’m standing at a crossroads. As I see it, I have three possible options.

1. I take the entrance exam, somehow get accepted into an arts program as a tuition-paying student, and everything works out.
2. I don’t take the entrance exam this year and instead apply for a completely different major—one that doesn’t genuinely interest me or seem especially useful—simply to get out of the house and finally experience real student life. Maybe I’ll meet new people or unexpectedly discover a career that suits me. In other words, I’d be enrolling for the sake of enrolling, while also paying tuition.
3. I take a gap year and don’t enroll anywhere this year. During that time, I finally carry out all the plans I’ve been postponing for years. I’ll attend in-person courses, gradually get used to being around people, maybe find a part-time job or start working with social media. Most importantly, I’ll spend the year deliberately preparing both for the drawing entrance exams and for retaking the Literature exam next year.

To be honest, I’m leaning heavily toward the third option. The thought of paying a huge amount of money to study something I don’t even enjoy feels terrifying. Spending years—and a lot of money—on something that means nothing to me is a frightening prospect. On the other hand, I’d gain experience, meet people, and earn a degree. Maybe that’s worth something. At the same time, I’m also afraid of taking a gap year because I’m scared I’ll waste it and end up making no meaningful progress. Financially, it wouldn’t be a serious problem because my family is relatively well-off. What scares me is the possibility of staying trapped inside my own shell for yet another year—and making another terrible mistake.

As for how I’m doing now… honestly, I feel awful. I haven’t had a single proper day off this entire summer because I’ve been thinking about this nonstop, trying to figure out the best path forward. It’s consuming an enormous amount of time and energy—energy that I could have spent resting or working on myself instead. I’m exhausted. I can barely sleep or eat properly, and I’ve been dealing with migraines almost every day. And, of course, this isn’t just about university. My family situation, the sudden change in my priorities, and several unexpected crises (including an emergency late-night trip to another city because my cat needed urgent veterinary care) have only made everything worse. I feel completely drained. I’m tired of constantly agonizing over this decision, but at the same time, I don’t want to give up. I don’t want to see myself as weak, and I don’t want to disappoint myself.

I’m not sharing all of this because I want pity or sympathy. I know I’ve made many foolish mistakes, and I don’t blame anyone but myself for them. That’s exactly why I’m trying so hard not to make another one. I need an honest, objective opinion from someone who doesn’t know me personally but has heard my story from beginning to end. I genuinely want to hear what you think is the best course of action.
I want to keep growing and learning. I want to meet people and make the most of my potential. I don’t want to spend my entire youth sitting at home. I want to see the world and actually live my life. But at the same time… I don’t want to destroy my health or burn myself out before my life has even really begun.

So… what would you do if you were in my position?