My brother studied electrical engineering at York university, and settled there afterwards. Straight after he finished there I began. My strength was chemistry. That's what I did. The whole decision was socially and academically the lowest risk of all possible alternatives.
Difficult early experiences might cause denial. Correct healthy paths through emotional damage are complex for children. Later in life, denial can manifest as avoidance, both prefer nonconfrontation.
In his famous quote, Hermann Hesse said, "Wisdom cannot be imparted..."
More commonly we hear, "you can't put an old head on young shoulders."
Accepting advice is brave because it involves trust.
I once read that success came from happily and regularly taking advice. The assumption there is that people generally mean no harm, and on balance, taking advice is therefore a good tack. Bad or malicious advice is rarer than the positive. Therefore, trust leads to success for some.
On the contrary, at university I was disinterested and lazy. I joined no clubs, drank too much, and smoked hashish. In line with denial, I didn't quit cannabis when it started to make me feel anxious.
My university friends were unmeaningful. After graduation we soon lost touch. I was very popular in the first year. Afterwards, I became reclusive and interested in computers again. This should have been a warning sign. Along with cannabis, computers were quite an interest for me before university, starting when my friends began chasing girls. I wasn't ready for that.
My personality change at York was typical of a mood disorder. This was the 80s though. Such knowledge was far from general back then.
With a modern emphasis on mental health awareness, psychiatry's radar surely would have intervened for me earlier, if I'd have been born some decades later. I fear awareness has gone a bit too far actually, and the balance between being mentally well and mental ill, is a challenging subject. It is not one for this website.
The video on this page holds an abridged reading of Susan Jeffers' gigantically well regarded book, "Feel the fear and do it anyway." It was recommended to me long ago.
I'm now confident that I know most of the book's wisdom, but If I had accepted that initial suggestion, I might have embraced and employed the ideas earlier. At worst, all I stood to lose was some time and effort.
I think my reason for not reading the book, was that I identified with my psychiatric label. The young me saw the book as common and off-the-shelf. I was too mysterious for it to be relevant!