What happens whenyou leave the flock?

I was sitting in a near empty cafe. I go there about twice a week: "Table for one... coffee and a danish... thank you." The book was "Art and Fear." When I read the book at work, I hide the title with my hand, with a slight fear of being caught... because I find it incredibly hard to explain myself.

But there are questions running rampant in my head... I feel them as though they are boiling with in a small space, with no holes for the pressure escape. As though I recieved a kick in the stomach, and the injury remains. I feel this disabling emotion: a stew of guilt and failure served hot.
The questions are simple: why do students give up? why is art necessary? am I a bad person for wanting to be an artist? What if my art is no longer familar to me? How do I get rid of all these anxieties, so I can start? What if it isn't the same?

The waitress brought me the coffee. The book explained: yes, students give up because in the insitution art is made with constant feed back, the young artist is driven by naive passion with out knowin the obstacles her work will face with out the protection of academia.. a real artist rises as a result of the times, and is everyday person with a reflection of an everyday reality. The obstacles are: people don't care if an artist creates or not, art is on decadence, art is misunderstood... I generally find myself on shaky ground, trying to stabilize myself, none the less having this feeling that I constantly have to defend myself.

I'll admit I switched to an art major on a whim with out fully knowing what it truly takes to become an artist... you get out of school, and say, "I studied art." then bam, the person says, "why? where are the jobs? what were you thinking?" then I feel this critical hit to my confidence. "I'm sorry... I don't know the answer to any of these questions." Then I find myself pacing, what have I done, what have I done... while in college, my answer would have been, "because it's the right thing for me to do."

In moments where I feel the truest break down of character, where I feel as though my personal flame is about to be stamped out, I find this small confidence, "don't give it up... it's going to take time... keep searching for places and people to help support you. Hold out, start simple... my sketch book has these quiet studies... a painting is out of reach, but still within sight"