Self-Careathon: Bravery

I have never really seen myself as brave. I’m sure there is some of you who will strongly disagree with me. I’ve been told that I’m brave at multiple times in my life and while I understand my actions may have been brave I’ve never felt it. I got told when I first came out that I was brave and that it took a lot of courage. I came out during an online discussion around the marriage equality referendum. I did this in order to highlight how the no side comments, in some regards, made it really difficult for someone like me, who at the time identified as questioning, to accept myself and continue to explore my own feelings of attraction in fear that I would be putting myself at the forefront and a target for backlash and negativity. I was told that I was brave. What about the people who have faced ridicule all their life and some who ended their life because they couldn’t see how they could live a world that criticised them based on who they fell in love with? At that point in time, I hadn’t dealt with any of that and to this day haven’t received much negativity towards my sexuality. They are the ones who are brave, not me. They have had to fight a battle that I am nowhere near to facing. I am not brave. I am lucky. Lucky, that I don’t fit into any generic stereotype. Lucky, that I live in a world where I have resources I can use if I ever feel attacked because of my sexuality, where I can find people like me and we can support each other publicly. 

I’ve been seen of as brave through my struggles with my mental health. While I have overcome a lot, my journey of recovery has more so been lead by fear rather than trying to care for myself. While I do care about myself, to an extent, it has never been the driving force behind bettering myself. I easily could have let myself get worse and worse, not fix it and eventually just end it all. However, I always kept pushing back my literal deadline.  It became a waiting game. Waiting until I was old enough to do it quick and painlessly,not living under my parents roof. Waiting to see if things get better in my life and there is something worth living for. Waiting to see if I would ever stop being scared. The reason I say my recovery is based more on fear is because I’ve only ever had a handful of good things in my life and I live in constant fear of losing those things. I lost friends at the start of secondary school who I had had for years, because I was just a big ball of negativity and neediness and no one could stand to be around me anymore. I got more quiet, practically mute unless forced to speak. By the end of secondary school, I had zero interests. I had no hobbies or anything that I liked to do. Nothing excited me, I wasn’t doing anything when I wasn’t at school, I felt empty. I did start making friends in 5th and 6th year but due to the downward spiral I was in, their positive impact on my life could only help me in some ways and not in everything. 

I picked the course I am currently in because I remembered that I used to like TV shows and films. I remembered how I enjoyed the way stories were told and how they were written. That was only a memory, I had little to zero interest in that stuff at the time but it was still more interest than I had in anything else. Everything just felt so boring and dull. Life was completely drained of all colour.  When I got to college, I think the newfound sense of freedom began to excite me. I had a fresh start. I knew no one. Through the experiences I had in my first year at college, I began to feel happy again. I felt like I had a purpose. I began to have interests again. Most importantly, I began to care again. In second year, I noticed I was feeling bad again except this time it wasn’t because of anything going bad in my life, it was all things going on in my head. I feared I would lose friends again and I didn’t know if I could handle going through that a second time. After every awkward interaction or times where I was super negative towards a friend, I felt guilty and harmed myself as a punishment. Sometimes it would depend on the person and/or how they reacted or didn’t react to the interaction. I think I have such strong emotions attached to friendships because I feel like they give me a sense of security and acceptance that I have craved my whole life. I fear jeopardising that. 

However, what I’m only beginning to learn lately, is the fact that I focus too much and put too much effort into friendships that are one-sided. If someone doesn’t care about you and doesn’t take the time to ask how you are, especially when you are always ask them, maybe it’s time to take a step back. I don’t think you need to jump straight to “they’re a toxic person and I need to cut them out of my life to be happy”. A break, though, might be needed. I know myself I spent enough time waiting for friends like the ones I have now, I shouldn’t have to waste anymore time waiting. Instead, I need to focus on appreciating the friends who make the effort and pay attention. They don’t have to avidly pay attention but if they notice something is up with me, they ask me if I’m alright and not ignore my change in behaviour and see it as a problem for another day. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about moments where people showed they cared and while I had appreciated these moments are the time I kept making them seem minor in my mind. I kept thinking “that was lovely, why can’t these other people in my life be the same?”  I need to stop doing that because those moments were so important to me and they did come from people I cared about so I shouldn’t hold others up to that standard and if they don’t care as much I should just leave them off and get on with my life. 

A moment in particular that I keep thinking about lately happened last year when I lived in Tralee. I spent a lot of last year very drained and depressed so whenever I was at my accommodation, particularly in second semester, I would go straight up to my room and spend the evening in bed. One night when I was in bed a bit early, trying to go to sleep,  I was feeling so down and tired. Then, I heard a knock on the door of my bedroom. I had the door locked, for once, and I didn’t want to get up so I was just like “What do you want?”  My housemate asked me if I was coming down for a rollie, to which I replied that no I wasn’t. I heard her walk away from the door a bit before she came back and was like “Any chance you have any filters?” I reluctantly got out of bed and told her to hold on for a minute. I tried to find my filters in my bag without turning on the lights but when I couldn’t find them I turned the light on, found them, and then unlocked the door. I opened the door and gave them to her and she asked me if I was alright. I was like “Honestly, no I’m not.” She then asked me did I want a hug. To which I accepted because genuinely I think I really needed one. After she hugged me she said “Look, I might not always understand or be able to help but if you ever want to talk to me about anything, I’m always here.” I replied with a smile and I think I said thank you. She then hugged me again because she said it looked like I needed it. I then went down and had a rollie with her. When I went back to bed then I felt so much happier. That moment is one of the very few genuine moments I’ve ever had of someone noticing that something was wrong with me, without me telling them, and them asking me if I was okay. Now she is an example of the type of people you should surround yourself with. She always makes sure never to make a big deal out of it and will talk to me about it one on one instead of around a load of other people. Which makes it easier for me to talk about what’s going on and I rather talking to one person too because it makes me feel like I’m being paid attention to and not spoken over by anyone. It makes me feel like a respected human being. 

I don’t think that I’m brave for sharing stories or overcoming things. I’m just trying to get better. 

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So, I Had This Dream…

This dream has been on my mind constantly since I had it on Saturday night. Before I went to sleep that night I had just watched Saoirse Ronan’s movie ‘Ladybird’ so that influenced it a little bit.

My dream was set in a Catholic school, which isn’t too odd because I went to a Catholic secondary school and some of the settings were from my old school. There was a lot of little details in this dream that linked to that movie but nothing to do with the major plot of it. I had a dream about my ex-best friend from when I was aged 5-12. That was weird in itself and also what was weird too was that zero people from college were in my dream at all, not a single one of them. So the main part of the dream that I can still remember clearly was in our secondary school gym hall. There was something going on there and there was a few different groups on the court. I enter the gym and one of my friends from secondary school came over to me and was like “She’s over there.” From the beginning of my dream before I went to the gym, there had been something telling that I needed to go find my ex-best friend and somehow that led me to the gym of the school we graduated from 2 and a half years ago.

I guess some back story is needed a little bit before I move on. When I was younger I absolutely hated all forms of physical contact. Even among my friends and family. If a friend tried to hug me, I would push them off me fairly aggressively. They would all just laugh, it was my shtick to be this little angry human that hated hugs and everything good in the world. (Looks like not too much has changed there). The fact that they found this funny meant that I needed to keep doing it because to make them laugh was everything to me. If I didn’t push them off, I would let them hug me but I would keep my hands straight by my sides and not hug them back and wait for it to be over. It wasn’t that I was uncomfortable with them, it was that I was uncomfortable with myself and I didn’t understand the purpose of hugs. I guess I still don’t really understand their purpose but now I do like them and they make me feel a lot happier and safer which is necessary now that my mind is a constant source of sadness, fear and danger and I can’t escape that.

Anyway, with that in mind, let me get back to the dream. So I walk over to her and place my hand on her shoulder and go “Hey, how are you?” and she just says “Hey.” I kid you not I stand there for about 5 minutes with my hand still on her shoulder. She eventually says “You can either stop now and walk away or you can fully commit to this physical contact thing and fix this problem between us.” So I hug her for a while and then I think we both are really happy after that and then we start hanging out again like we used to when we were kids. Then I woke up. I was sooooooo confused when I woke up. “Why did I dream about her? What does this dream mean? I haven’t even been thinking about her recently, what is going on?” I thought to myself. So since then I have been trying to analyse this dream in the most literal sense. So maybe the reason I thought of her is because in reality I feel really alone again because I feel the need to have a best friend again, someone I can hang with all the time and be texting and talking to all the time. I also had recently been thinking about physical contact and my struggle to becoming more comfortable with it. I think it makes sense that this dream stemmed from my overthinking lately. Maybe the dream is trying to tell me that for me to be able to move forward I need to deal with what happened all those years ago when my best friend became my ex-best friend. Which, by the way, had absolutely nothing to do with hugs or physical contact. It mostly had to do with my negativity and how I couldn’t take a joke or find the same things funny or be happy about anything. I would always complain and to be honest everyone was getting sick of it. I still haven’t improved much, but since then I’ve been able to keep more things to myself in a way that’s healthier for current relationships that I have formed. I’ve also gotten more confident in making jokes and laughing at things that when I was younger I thought was too inappropriate. I was such a parent to my friend group when I was younger because I didn’t want us watching YouTube videos that were too inappropriate because I thought we were too young and I wanted to hold onto my naivety for as long as I possibly could. My friends obviously wouldn’t listen to me and hence forcing me to watch The Hangover at the age of 11 which made me feel so ill, it will forever be my least favourite movie because that’s when all the fighting between us started. I censored what I watched more than my parents ever did. I was aware of so much at a young age and chose to ignore certain things until I was older because nobody over a certain age seemed very happy and I wanted to be able to enjoy the few things that brought me happiness before adolescence and adulthood ripped that away from me.

Almost A Decade Of Suicidal Thoughts. 

**Trigger Warning: Content contains suicidal thoughts and self harm. Reader Discretion is advised.**

I will start this off by saying that right now I currently have no urge to kill myself or even harm myself. Life is fine. I am dealing with it. Hopefully soon, I will start really living it again. I also say almost a decade because I’d say it would have been more so the middle to end of 2008, if even as early as that year, where I first started to feel suicidal in some sense. 

The more I think back to 2008 the more I remember why I would have suicidal. While the issues I was dealing with then are no big deal to me now, they were at the time. Some of those problems effected my entire world at that moment in time.i was in the 2nd half of 4th class, I was aged 9 and turning 10 that year, the most torturous school year of my entire life. I felt I had this massive target on my back that people just couldn’t get enough of aiming for. It was also a very insecure time for myself as my body was starting to go through changes and would go through so many that year. My body was developing a lot faster than that of the other girls in my class. The boys in my class were always laughing at me. One boy in particular was bullying me and harassing me more than other time because he had always bullied me since I was about 5 or 6 but during 2008 is when it started getting a whole lot worse. I should also note that the teacher I had for 4 to class as also my teacher in junior infants and from that first time she taught me I have had a fear of authority figures ever since. The way things used to work in primary school was that seating charts needed to be made, it would be organised boy-girl-boy-girl for as much as possible, and these arrangements had to be changed every few weeks. So of course my teacher decided to seat me next to the boy of was awful to me, it was from this moment things started getting worse. I will call this bully Gary, for the plain and simple reason that that name is the evil character in a game called Bully. So Gary was friends with my friend group. My friends liked him. They said I needed to give him a chance and that I took everything he did too seriously. Now I’ve always found what he did very hard to explain because I feel like my mind immediately tries to block out he content as quickly as a can so it doesn’t manifest itself in my mind. Even at the time no teacher would help me because I couldn’t explain it properly. I was either told by teachers to work it out and learn to get along with him or else just stay away from him. Pretty hard to stay away from him when I’m sat right next to him and not allowed to change where I’m sitting. I remember one day in particular where I got really upset. Our teacher was out so we had a substitute instead. We were given work to do and it was up to us to see how much we could get done in the school day and then finish the rest for homework. I trying to work away however, Gary started saying things to distract me and then I think he started hitting my pencil so I would mess up every time I tried to write. I kept asking him to stop but he would just ignore me and keep doing whatever he was doing and the other guy who I was sitting next was friends with Gary and was laughing along with him and his antics. My eyes started watering and I was getting a bit distressed. I told Gary to stop a little louder and the substitute teacher heard me and asked if there was a problem. I said I was trying to do my work and that the two boys were distracting me and upsetting me and the teacher just said to try and ignore them. About a month later when the seating arrangements had been changed again, I wasn’t sitting next to Gary but I was only like 3 seats away from him and all his friends were near me some beside me and some in front of me. I was so upset with everything that one day I started drawing. I drew myself. I drew a train. I drew myself, standing on a train track with a train headed towards me. Some of the boys around me were looking at my sheet of paper and were like “What the hell are you trying to draw?”  I told them what it was and said I was drawing it because I’d rather be dead than have to put up with any of them for any longer. The only person who was sitting by me at the time who was my friend was right in front of me. She didn’t say anything but she did look a little concerned and I think she did go and tell the teacher at some point after this about what I had said and drawn. I say this because I think either the next day or a few days later, the teacher called me outside the door of the classroom and said “Are you okay? I was told about this drawing you did and what you saidand this is really serious stuff!”  I told her that I was fine and that I never drew anything. She asked me a few more times about it and I kept denying it. She said ok and we walked back into the classroom. She never brought it up again. I should also mention that after I explained my reasoning behind the drawing to the boys they all laughed and didn’t take what I said seriously at all. They didn’t believe I would kill myself, and for a little while I really wanted to prove them wrong but I never did. At the end of that year, my mom got a heart tumour, non-cancerous but still serious, and I got really sad and really worried around that time. A good thing that came out of that though was that my friends supported me and comforted me during that time which would be the first and last time that most of them would have done that. The bullying was still there and I was becoming even more uncomfortable with the changes my body was experiencing. It wasn’t until 6th class we would watch a DVD to explain these changes so I had no idea what was going on. I thought there was things wrong with me and I didn’t tell anyone about my worries. I did ask my mother one day and she did explain it to me a bit but not too graphically or anything. By this time thought that I actually brought it up, I was on like my third ever period. I had known there was something happening for two or three months before I said anything. I thought I was dying and the thought of that scared me. 

While I’ve had suicidal thoughts all these years, I have also had a fear of dying. I think more so a fear of not knowing and not having any control over how and when I would die. After my mom was sick I felt for a while after that if I committed suicide I would be selfish. Any kind of complication with my mom’s surgery could have made things end up a lot differently for her so I felt like if I tried to kill myself I would be taking a perfectly healthy life and body and getting rid of it for my own selfish reasons. At that time too with my mother being in hospital and having surgery, my family were stressed out enough as it was so I didn’t want to make them any more stressed out. 

Next major event, the friendship schism of 2010, that was one of the, if not the, worst years of my life. So I had a group of friends all throughout primary school, over the summer and the first half of 1st year in secondary school these friendships were starting to crumble and crumble fast. There was a friend who stuck by me for a bit after that but by the summer of 2011 they were gone too. I was alone probably for the first time in my life. This schism was when my mental issues began. I wanted to kill myself then more than ever. I felt like since they left me nobody would ever want to be my friend again. I thought I was fat, ugly, extremely negative, and a really boring, untalented person. I thought no one would ever want to be around me because of these reasons. I started to think that maybe they were never really my friends at all and they just lied to me.  It was years before I could trust anyone after that and I still have problems with trust today but I am gettin better.

 I almost tried to commit suicide for the first and only time in April 2011. The only time I’ve ever come close to acting on my suicidal thoughts. I was 13. I was at someone’s house, they had a bunk bed, and I had a belt. They left the room for a few minutes and in that time I had taken my belt off, tied it around part of the top bunk and tried to tied it around my neck. I knew it wasn’t going to work but I still wanted to test it. It was a stupid idea. I untied the belt from the bed and put it back on before the person came back in. I always thought about hanging myself but I never thought that I would be able to do it right. I thought about it a lot from the ages of 13-16 especially. I needed a rope that would be strong enough, a place to tie the rope that would be strong enough, all without being suspicious. I never actually planned anything, I just thought about the possibilities and how I would never be able to do it on a practical level. Mentally there was definitely times where I would have gone through with it but I wanted to be certain it was either done properly or not at all. 

I started self harming in 2015, I was in 6th year stressed about the the Leaving Cert. I was 17. I used a rubber band. I had one on my wrist at all times for months. I would pull it back as far as I could so it was going to cause my arm as much pain as possible. It would cause a swollen red line to form which would later sting. I used it a lot in those months leading up to and during the exams. I still would use this method of self harm throughout my 1st year of college usually before a presentation or after I said something stupid or I was being extra awkward in a social situation. So yeah I used that quite a bit. However, I would say that my suicidal thoughts calmed down a lot when I started doing that. I haven’t genuinely wanted to kill myself since about 2014. Another thing that has calmed those thoughts down a bit is smoking, which I started in March 2016 when I was 18. The reason it calms those thoughts though isn’t necessarily a positive thing. I see smoking as a way of killing myself slowly, not as slow as a natural cause of death but slower than an immediate suicide. I see smoking as giving me time to think because I don’t want to end my life right now and make a drastic decision that can’t be undone. I don’t think about this every time I have a cigarette it was just one of my initial thoughts when I started and now it’s just kind of stuck in the back of my mind. In around August of 2016, I started to self harm using a knife. I wasn’t doing this for long before I stopped in September after a friends’ reaction to my scars. I stopped for 5 months before I started again in mid February of 2017. I would cut my left arm and usually my right leg when self harming, although it would usually just be the arm. I have also used a key when self harming for the 2nd half of 2017. The last time I cut was probably early December. 

That’s probably the best timeline of where my mind has been on the thought of suicide. This blog is yet another response, my first and only response, through social media in regards to the Logan Paul video that showed a dead body hanging from a tree in the Aokigahara, also known as the Suicide Forest, in Japan. Before the video, I had never heard of the forest. If the video had just been about the history of the forest and the stories about it, I would have been really intrigued about it and would then have warned my friends to never let me go to Japan alone because I wouldn’t be coming back alive. However, the constant clips of the body and especially the clip of the deceased persons’ discoloured hands I had chills all over. I could feel my fear of death coming back but now I was a little bit afraid of the idea of hanging because this is the first time I’ve ever seen anything like this. I made me feel uncomfortable but I didn’t really react I just felt numb. 

2017: It Wasn’t The Worst, But It Wasn’t The Best!

As a whole, I don’t think that 2017 was that bad of a year. Like every year there is both moments of good and bad. I had my fair share of bad times but the good times this year made it worth it.

Before I talk about some of this years’ events in my life, I’ll reflect back on my New Year’s Resolutions for 2017

  1. Stop taking myself so seriously – I do think I improved upon this for an extent but not in a good way. I think I stopped taking myself seriously because I stopped caring about myself and what was happening to me. I just gave up fighting back for the most part because nobody took me seriously. My intention was to laugh more at myself and maybe developed a sort of confidence. However, the result was people laughing at me constantly and knocking any building confidence out of me.
  2. Focus on college – I think I did a very good job of this at the start of the year when I was in 2nd semester of 2nd year. I got two of the highest grades that I’ve ever gotten overall in modules. I was doing great, I passed my repeat that followed me on from the module I failed at the end of 2016. Even though that repeat should have made sure that I focused on everything after that. 3rd year semester 1 is where I really gave up. After the first month was over, I went into a downward spiral. I had no motivation or energy to do any of my work. I did manage to get every assignment submitted but I wasn’t happy with most of them. This semester has made me feel like a failure. Even if I somehow pass everything, I will feel like a failure.
  3. Learn to deal with being alone – I feel like I just had to suck up any feelings of loneliness or feelings like I was alone in the world because there was no other solution to this. I think I spent a lot of this year forcing myself to be alone because I started to feel extra anxious and a waste of space in any group setting. When I lived in Tralee I spent a lot of the 2nd semester up in my room when I wasn’t going out almost every Thursday night.
  4. Work on making myself feel better – I was trying to do this at the start of this year by going to the college doctor who had me on anti-depressants which didn’t help. Recently, I’ve started seeing a therapist after I got referred after I hit a very low point in October. I do think as this year has been coming to a close that I have actively worked on making myself feel better.

So I think I did a fairly good job there with attempting those resolutions but none of them were fully successful. Oh well, there’s always time to work on them in 2018!!

In terms of my mental health it went to absolute shit, which it also did last year so not much as changed their. I felt like I was fighting with others a lot more this year just as much as I was fighting with myself. It was very draining both mentally and socially. I really want to leave all that sort of stuff behind me because I hate confrontation so much it takes me a long time, if ever, to recover from it. I started cutting last year and while I took a 5 month hiatus I continued again in February about a week after my birthday. Not my finest hour. I have continued to cut myself periodically throughout all of this year with my last one only being at least a few weeks ago. Although I have no intention to do anything again, I was drying the dishes and cutlery last night and I saw the knives and thought “Maybe, just a little bit?” I didn’t do anything but I did want to. I have more self control than people give me credit for, when I’ve harmed myself things are seriously wrong because for the most part I can ignore the thoughts that are telling me to do that, the urges that want me to feel the physical pain that I deserve and to suppress the mental pain that I’m feeling at that moment in time. This year I felt like I began to bottle things up again. I stopped telling people the extent of what I’m feeling because 99% of them don’t care.  Today, New Years Eve, I felt a bit down today but just tried to ignore it. My only positive today was that I was able to smoke a little bit because my parents weren’t hear all evening. Until my father came home very drunk and being incredibly annoying. I can’t stand him when he’s like that, constantly repeating himself and not being able to think properly. Then my mother came home from work and complained about how shitty the night was. I couldn’t even ring in the new year without a heap load of negativity thrown at me just minutes before midnight. I happily would have rang in the new year on my own, but no I wanted to watch the RTÉ special on the television. So needless to say 2018 hasn’t gotten off to a great start yet but there’s a whole year of better experiences to get through yet.

I could go on and on about my mental issues this year so I guess I’ll recap some of the higher points of this year. These won’t be in any particular order just the order in which I think of them or I feel like they link. I went to my first ever Pride this year in Cork City. I wasn’t sure if I’d actually be able to go to the parade and stuff until like the day before because I was only going up to Cork to go to my first ever drag show which was to see Alyssa Edwards. The day of the drag show was fairly good. I got to explore Cork for the first time ever on my own. I knew fuck all about the city before that weekend. I also got to reconnect with one of my friends who I’ve known for most of my life but hadn’t talked to much in a long time. The night of the drag show once we got to the nightclub was a totally different story. It consisted of a lot of pushing and shoving mostly by a load of over-excited gay men but that was only the few we were around the rest of the crowd actually seemed alright. The only highlight of that night was that I was out in the smoking area and I made a friend. He came over to me wanting a cigarette and I gladly gave him one which he tried to pay me for. He then came back to me a while later when I went back out to the smoking area and asked me for another cigarette. He seemed nice. The 2nd time he stayed near me and we started talking… well typing. I learned fairly quickly that he was deaf. It was a very interesting experience but it was actually the happiest thing that happened that weekend. Overall that weekend was something I wouldn’t trade for the world but it was very overwhelming and I was not used to anything like that. So the day of Pride was all kind of up in a heap. I didn’t know what our plan was or what was happening. We walked in the parade while I was wearing my rainbow flag as a cape and had rainbow flag face paint on my cheeks. I felt so ecstatically gay and I loved it. There was a great performances on the stage where the parade ended but I was experiencing a lot of that by myself because my friend had gone home to get ready for that night where he had a show in a different nightclub to where we had been the night before. The night was fine. My friend was amazing on stage. However, I had my first ever shift that night, and it was with a guy. From all the horror stories I’ve heard of people’s first shift my definitely wasn’t bad at all. I still don’t ever want to do that again…ever. I don’t know if this was just because it was a guy, or because it was someone I don’t know and still don’t know. I have no idea what his name is and because he was so drunk he was taken out of the club by security surely after. The story in itself is funny to look back on know but it’s not something I want to relive.

I got to make my great, grand, gay return to Pink Training and since I’ve devoted an entire blog to this very recently I won’t go into too much detail about it. Definitely, it was the best part of my year. I feel like I got a little bit more confidence this year as last year had made me so much more confident than I had previously been. I had a better time this year knowing how the whole thing was running. It was also my very first time in Galway a city that I would happily return back to in a heartbeat. I told Jodi I had a crush on her and while that had been obvious for the last 2 years while I was keeping that secret she didn’t make me feel bad about any of it. Up until then, I had felt awful for having that crush at all. It was always the centre of any jokes people would be saying towards me and it made me feel like shit and I wish I had kept it to myself because having everyone know just made things harder. It made any butterflies or excitement about it get shut down immediately. While I knew that nothing would ever happen and will not ever happen, I didn’t see what was so wrong with imagining it. The worst thing was really when people brought it any interaction I had with her and making it romantic or sexual, like it got to a point where I just wanted to try and see if there was a way where I could come out as straight and put myself back in the closet and make people think that I made up that crush as a joke, just so they would shut the fuck up about it. I know this is awful, and that’s why I never did it. Think about that thought, I would have preferred to have been in the closet keeping all feelings to myself rather than have all these jokes and comments thrown about on a constant basis. I guess a lot of it was my own fault because I found them funny at the start, and always brought Jodi in conversation so it was my own fault. I never shut down any of these comments, I just kept it all to myself. As my actual crush feelings were going away and I was moving on an getting over it, people were always dragging me back and not believing that I could get over it. I’ve only been out for 2 and a half years and I’ve never really had many crushes in my life because I didn’t realise until I was 15 that I was gay. This was kind of a big deal for me for a part of the last 2 years and it felt like it was being belittled. At the end of the day, all I ever really wanted was a friend, and in maturing and realising things over the last few years I think that this crush definitely had more platonic roots to it than romantic. You can fight me on that all you like, but you don’t know how I’ve felt but I know you’ll make your assumptions and say that I’m lying. As of 2018, I want all the jokes to stop. Unless you are Jodi or I, this doesn’t concern you. I’m pretty much over this entire thing but I think I needed to go through that and have that battle of various emotions in my head over someone I was never going to be and never really want to be with in any way other than platonic. I guess I lied a little along the way and hyped it up myself more than I should have but I realise now that I was wrong and I wish I had kept my mouth shut. I’m sorry if it seems weird that I wrote such a long rant about this in a review of 2017, but I just want to stop feeling shitty about having feelings.

Now that I’ve ranted about that for most of this blog, I’ve completely forgotten what it was I actually wanted to talk about for the rest of this. I like 2017. It was cool. I’ve had some memories that I will never forget. This year was extremely frustrating though and I wanted to give up so many times and give up on so many things. Luckily, thanks to the help of a few people I didn’t.  So thank you to those people for helping me to keep going and making it to the new year. In particularly, the Students Union had been a massive help this year since about August, the time of my repeat, and throughout the last few months which were incredibly difficult and I don’t know where I would be without them.

This is usually where I would write my New Years Resolutions but I don’t know if I really want to write anything new for this year. There are a few little things but I think it’s mostly just sticking with the resolutions I made last year and try to keep improving myself. Let’s hope 2018 is less frustrating and filled with more excitement instead of anxiety!

World Mental Health Day 2017

So I wrote a blog about this two years ago when I was less than a month into my first year of college and before I go on I’d suggest that you read that first because it’s quite interesting!
https://sandramoynihan.wordpress.com/2015/10/10/mental-illness-take-4world-mental-health-day/

In the two years that have passed since then a lot of things have changed in my life. I know not only just have friends, I have a plethora of friends something which upon entering college didn’t seem possible. Although in that blog I do talk about my first real college memory. It was the first time I felt like I was part of a group. I didn’t feel too much like a tag along and I had one of the best days ever. The day that the college experienced a power cut is one of the most vivid memories I have at college. The amazing thing about thinking back to that memory is that I didn’t know then how much some of those people would impact my life, and impact it for the better. Like Dexter was the one who invited me to go with the group, he was sitting at the table with my classmate and I. We went back to his house afterwards with Jodi and, I think this is the name I gave him, Tab. I laughed so much that day I actually nearly pissed myself. I loved it and I’m so glad I have that memory of when friendships were just starting to form. 

The difference is that now, while those friendships are still there and still strong, I think, I seem to be on a mission of self sabotage and am trying to make a mess of things. For the last two week and a half weeks, which has been the aftermath of me going to the doctor, my mental health has been good and on some days even amazing. The few weeks leading up to that doctors appointment I was awful. I started cutting again, well cutting my arm again I was cutting my leg all summer long. I realised at some point just before I cut my arm the last time, which required a bandage, that I went back to cutting my arm because I wanted attention. When I say that I more so mean, a cry for help. I wanted people, or at least certain people because I always seem very particular about who I want to know about these things, to see that I was struggling. I was having a hard time and I needed support. Which I did get and am so thankful that I have that support, even if this week it might not seem like. Before the bandage incident, I had been discussing my mental health with the Welfare Officer and we had a walk and a chat which was lovely. She organised another one for the following week, which I was excited about because I thought it would be a regular thing which would have been great. Totally my fault that that stopped because said bandage incident happened and our chat got changed to her accompanying me to the nurse because I wanted her there with me. Then the following week I went to the doctor on my own, told her how that went and that was that. To be fair, I see her everyday and god knows after 2 years she’s sick to death of me and my constant mood swings and low self esteem. The reasons however that I wish this walk and chat, or just sit and chat because I do enough walking, was regular is that it’s something for me to look forward too. Again, I see her everyday I know but there is some things I don’t want to talk to her about when there’s loads of people around her. I guess I kind of miss how we used to hangout in the radio studio in the evenings and a have a laugh (why I am crying right now, I haven’t cried for weeks and weeks and yet just thinking about this gets me teary eyed in an instant). So that reason is from a friendship point of view. From a personal, probably selfish point of view, I just want to be noticed. Not just a nod in the hallways or part of a big group conversation, I want to talk to someone one on one to remind myself that I am an individual. I sometimes forget that I am my own person I just feel like there is an invisible tether between me and groups of friends that doesn’t let me stray too far from the pack. Any ways, I just want someone to acknowledge that I’m here and when they ask about my day/week that they actually want to know the answer and will listen to the few little things that happened. To be fair I have that person/persons to an extent. The extent tends to be limited by me because I’m afraid to start the conversation. Especially since I’m not a fan of texting and messenger as its not personal enough, how do I know a robot is contriving these responses through my online presence and what I’ve posted to the Internet in the last 9 years. I love phone calls its just personal enough where I can hear the persons voice but we don’t have to look at each other i.e. They won’t be watching me will I fidget with something and avoid eye contact with them. 

It might seem like a need I therapist and I probably do, but there is other things I need too and it is those very simple conversations that might seem insignificant to someone but mean the world to me. This week I’ve just been trying to avoid people altogether, I just felt really angry all day yesterday so I know if I came into contact with most people I would just yell  at them for no reason because I was filled with so much anger. I had to get Dexter to come out of the 4th year project room because the main thing I needed more than anything was a hug, and I knew he wasn’t going to judge me for wanting a hug which from primary school experiences I still feel like people will judge me for wanting a hug. I don’t want to build his ego up, like I tend to do whenever I mention him in these blogs, but I don’t think I give him enough credit for how much he helps me. He said to me yesterday that I need to trust people and that not everybody has some malicious hidden agenda where they’re intent on hurting me, some people are just genuinely caring/looking out for me. I think he’s the only person that I could confide in completely and not fear that he’ll judge me or think I’m weird in a bad way. He’s been the best friend I’ve made in this college and I wouldn’t have made it to 3rd year without him. Ok sentiment is over, he’s not on placement anymore so I can actually talk to him in person again, not that I’d say all this to him in person though!

13 Reasons Why!!

I have never related so much to something. It is giving me both an exhilarating and a scared feeling. I mean I’m glad I found something that really gets it. Imagine how different my life could have been if I knew the book existed. The book came out 10 years ago. I have been suicidal for 10 years, maybe the book could have helped me. I’d have been able to see how much an effect a suicide can have on the lives of others and how there is a future. 10 years ago I definitely could have committed suicide and thought of 13 Reasons as to Why I did it. Up until I started college I could have done that. College changed everything. At least it did for a while. These suicidal tendencies don’t always go away completely. They are really dark, feelings that just can’t be gotten rid of. Anytime my life goes to shit or people treat me like shit I think about how much I wish it was all over. Mostly I’m fine. Mostly I either feel nothing or I feel everything. Oh the joys of being a bundle of depression and anxiety. I just get tired of everything or else sad for no reason. In those moments, it’s all stuff going on in my head and it’s my fault. That stuff I can handle. I can’t handle other people making me feel that way or making me feel paranoid. Since I was 9 years old, I have been made feel like an outsider. I have been ignored, not appreciated, undermined, and casually bullied. I say casually bullied because apparently statements that are said to you that might not necessarily mean sounding don’t count as bullying no matter how much they effect the victim. I was scared. I lost all trust in people and it takes a very long process for me to trust someone now and if that gets broken it won’t get repaired. I just believed that everyone was fake. Nobody really cared. When I was bullied in primary school it was emotionally manipulative. The bullies would always be like “Hi Sandra, how are you? Oh you’re good, that’s good! Listen I forgot to bring something in so can I borrow yours? I swear I’ll give it back just trust me. Aw thanks so much!!!” They would get in my face a bit and sometimes 3 or 4 of them would approach me at the same time. I didn’t have a choice really. If they wanted to “borrow” something that was mine I wasn’t allowed to say no. If I did they would just go up to the teacher and say that I’m not sharing. Of course one of the main things they aim to teach you in primary school is sharing because that’s caring and if you’re not sharing then you might as well pack your bags for your trip to hell or wherever all the bold children go. I grew up not being allowed to say no. I was afraid to say no. I got scared of being in trouble. I still find it hard to say no. As much as my mental illnesses are my problems and I can’t really play the blame game here, I think my childhood experiences should at least be some bit accredited to why I got so messed up.

I got made fun of for being too “boyish”. “What are you a boy?” I answered that question and said “You know sometimes I wish I was!” I said that for the plain and simple reason that I knew if I was a boy I wouldn’t be treated the way I was. I would have been respected, and allowed to play soccer at lunch with the boys and actually be part of a team instead of trying to fight for the ball and become a one woman team to prove that I could play. However when I said I’d rather be a boy, they used that as further fuel for the fire. They would just laugh. And laugh. And laugh. I’ve had to train myself to be ok to be around people when their laughing. For the last few years, I’ve wanted to be a comedian and make people laugh because everyone should be happy and I wouldn’t wish my shitty experiences on anyone. However, because of the years of being laughed at I got really insecure. Every laugh I heard even if it was really far away or obviously directed at something else, I felt it was directed at me. I’ve run to the bathroom on numerous occasions when I felt like a group of people were pointing a laughing at me in their little group of friends. Why else would they be laughing? It had to be me, surely they weren’t making jokes that were unrelated to me?

It was also 10 years ago that I became self-conscious about my weight. I can say this now because I’ve had a lot of weight issues and fluctuations, that I was tiny when I was 9. I was still skinny I had no bit of fat on me whatsoever, expect maybe in my face and I’m still trying to get rid of that. I got fat when I was going into secondary school, and the fact that I cycled to school I was heavier than almost every girl in my entire school, I was a big fat target for abuse.My massive school bag didn’t help with that either. I thought going to an all girls secondary school would give me freedom from the ridicule that boys had against me but alas that was not to be as my school was right next to the boys and the mixed secondary schools.  I got laughed at, mocked, yelled at, pelted with pebbles, and blocked from entering my estate. I got mocked so much one day when I was in 5th year that I started crying and when the guys who mocked me realised this, they got a bit quieter but still kind of laughed it off because they didn’t know how to react to the fact that their words had an effect on me. I was blinded by tears but kept cycling away because how could I stop when they were all still around. It’s really dangerous to cycle a bike, especially on a road with moving cars, when you can’t see. I didn’t care though I just wanted to get home as fast as I could and shut myself away in my room. As soon as I got into 5th year and my class room was located out in the prefab that no one ever checks in the evenings, I stayed behind at least half an hour before making an attempt to go home. I waited so that all the boys from the other schools were pretty much all gone home. I spent the last two years of secondary school hiding and trying to make myself as invisible as possible. I’ve fallen off my bike a few times cycling home from school and not once could those lads give any bit of sympathy. I could hear the roars of laughter coming from across the road. I was in first or second year when the worst fall happened. I was cycling up onto the footpath but the bike didn’t make it up on the curb and I fell onto the footpath after going at a bit of a speed and my massive school bag got flung over my head and pulled me down even harder and faster. Surprisingly enough I didn’t break my neck. I didn’t even really get that injured a few bruises on my body, and because of the laughter, a huge scar across my heart.

I hope this makes it somewhat easier to understand why I sometimes think about people in the way I do. Reasons I think that no one cares because no one ever really did. Back to the show, anyone who seemed like they might care were just like Clay, they knew what was happening and just stood on the sidelines not wanting to get involved or say anything. I’m glad I am past the worst of it. Anything I’ve been feeling since I started college are the after effects and repercussions of that life that I was forced to battle through. I’m glad I did. It was worth all the fighting. It was worth all the scars both external and internal. I feel like I’ve found my group of people. People who care about me. People who love me, even though they don’t admit it because they’re too cool/awkward to express certain emotions.  13 Reasons Why, made me remember all those events I was trying to forget. I’m happy that it reminded me because comparing those years to the present day it so motivating. If I can go from that horrible time with people who treated me like I was a voodoo doll trying to see how many pins they could stick in me before they stabbed every bit of my heart. I honestly think they wanted me to kill myself. I definitely said it at one point out of frustration at them and they didn’t really care they said stuff like “Yeah well I’d like to see you try.” They also would just shrug it off and be like “Yeah right, sure you will”. Even as a young impressionable child, I was mature and intelligent in everything that I did. I knew that if I did do something to myself that it wouldn’t change anything, except for the fact that I wouldn’t have to listen to them anymore which was nearly enough motivation for me to do it but if I was going to make such a big decision like that I wanted it to be for me, not for them. I didn’t want them to get the satisfaction that they were finally rid of me. I stuck around to annoy them because no matter what I did, they never liked me. Nobody thought they were doing anything wrong, even my friends agreed with them most of the time. I just needed to shut up because they “weren’t actually being mean at all”. I was just taking everything the wrong way and they were “obviously joking”.

At least I don’t have that anymore. I have people who care and I couldn’t be happier with the support system that I’ve developed in the past year and a half. With every smile and every hug I get from any of them I am so thankful that I stuck around and I know that I can’t leave now because why would I want to end this bliss that is my social life. It took me so long to get a social life and honestly it was worth the wait. I am loved. I’ve always wanted that and I never thought it would happen. It makes me so happy sometimes when I really start thinking about it. They like me, they really like me.

Why So Serious?

I’ve been told for years that I am serious. This was always meant in a bad way. I was always “too” serious and unable to take a joke. First of all boy (because it was typically boys who told me this) please explain to me how your  way of making me feel like complete shit is in any way a joke. I like to think of myself as someone well versed in comedy and what is and is not a joke. Those boys never made good jokes,  and very rarely they actually made something that could constitute as a joke. I went home crying in floods of tears while they went home laughing each day because once they had berated me for not “getting” the “joke” they would laugh their ass’ off all the way home. I was only in primary school and I was forced to go through this and my friends at the time were no help whatsoever. They even laughed along with those guys most of the time. They too would tell me either to lighten up a bit or laugh it off. They wouldn’t listen when I told them how the guys’ comments hurt me. They told me I was over-exaggerating and that those comments weren’t that mean so it’s impossible for you to actually be upset by them. Aren’t friends really something? This being the beginning of when I started to believe that no emotion or opinion of mine had any validity. 

It’s also why it took me so long to tell friends I made in the future anything that was wrong with me. I was scared of any friends I made. To me I felt like they could be the bullies if I gave them the opportunity but by bottling up all my emotions I never did. I realise now since sharing all my emotions with them, that they aren’t bullies they understand and accept my feelings and want to make me feel better. Although I still get worried that a friend could snap into that bully mode, intentional or not. Most jokes amongst friends are pretty much insults said in a way to make it funny i.e “It’s funny ’cause it’s true.” So either way if they do I might not notice straight away. 

I go into my serious mode when I am forced to. For the most part I am not serious at all I will laugh at the stupidest jokes and innuendos. When I’m alone I’m actually the goofy person I wish I could show myself as to others. I’m forced to get serious when I’m upset or offended. It’s a way to hide the fact that I’m probably on the verge of tears. I have always put up this front since I was about 6 so that no one would ask me the awkward question of what is wrong and for me to explain and for them to either not understand or just brush it off. If this serious thing is forced upon me by an unplanned occasion of someone causing me increased anxiety or upset, I can turn into one of the coldest,bitchiest people ever. I give very quick one word answers, or sometimes I won’t talk at all (Good luck trying to decifer when my quiet spells are related to this state). 

I tried to hold onto my naivety for as long as possible and I did but I felt like this seriousness aged me more than any scandalous or inappropriate thing could have. While I was naive, I was pretending for my sake. I actually knew a lot. No one needed to know how much I actually knew. When I was serious I always felt like a parent or a teacher. I very rarely used to get told that it wasn’t that I was overly serious, I was just mature. Well whatever you wanted to call it I felt like I was babysitting people for free for 12 years. I was usually the youngest or nearly the youngest in my class groups. I had to look past things that I didn’t agree with because I hated confrontation. I had to always try and be the bigger person (I’ve had weight issues since the age of 8 or 9 and was an early bloomer so it was very easy for me to be physically the bigger person). Anytime I lost my temper… wait I should change that.  Anytime I LOSE my temper I get laughed at. I still feel like I’m not allowed to get angry over things. Even as a child any temper tantrums I had were cut short by my mother. Even later on in life I was never allowed to express the emotion of anger in front of her without being given out to. Anger is one of the worst feelings to keep bottled up. Kids are supposed to throw tantrums and you denying them of that stunts their emotional growth so much. I had to hit myself when I was angry. It left no damage to anything and it wouldn’t make a loud thud when I would slap myself across the face, punch myself in the stomach or beat drum sticks off my thighs and shins. Luckily I don’t do that any more I just punch walls now the odd time. As in I’ve done it like 3 times and the worst time was when I was drunk and so uncontrollably angry. I’m trying not to make a habit of it. 

Being the “mature one” at such a young age helped me a lot intellectually I think but not so much fun wise. All my friends would be climbing trees and I would be too afraid to. So while they climbed I would walk around beneath the branches they were on saying “If you fall don’t say I didn’t warn you. Don’t come crying to me when your leg is broken”. Essentially I felt like the mom of the group although it was usually only when it came to safety not when it came to emotions. I would just sit there and listen intently if my friends ever had a problem I would rarely ever ask them what was wrong and if there was something I could do to help. I had no one who was like that for me and we didn’t really learn stuff like that in school so I didn’t understand how to deal with stuff like that. I still haven’t really learned. 

2016: Despite Everything, I Ain’t Down Yet!

I know we are all on the same page that 2016 was a bitch of a year, especially in respect to celebrity deaths. We lost so many famous faces and for the first time in 3 years some of these deaths hit me very hard. They weren’t just celebrities, they were creative influences, icons, and really phenomenal people. Alan Rickman passed away early on in the year and I felt really morose because he was a big part of my life. The first Harry Potter film was released when I was 3 and I think I saw it for the first time shortly after when it was released on VHS because I was too young to go see it in the cinema. His character when I was younger scared me quite a bit but that was only because he reminded me of my teachers which I was frightened of. By the time the 3rd movie came out and I found his character to be more like a protective figure than just a strict professor, I started to like his character and him a lot more. I used to watch behind the scenes videos and always see him laughing with the other actors on set. I don’t have many examples other than the Harry Potter films to base this off of but I really admired him as an actor. The death that effected me the most this year was that of Christina Grimmie in June. I had watched her videos for years and although at the time of her death I only rarely ever watched her videos, I would always go back and check in every now and again and smile when I saw her name in articles about her touring. I really hoped when I saw that she had died that it was a hoax. I was really hoping it was a death hoax. When I found out that it wasn’t I felt choked up and I was speechless. It took me hours to get my thoughts together on it. I cried for a long time, the only other time I had cried at a celebrity death at that point was Cory Monteith’s in 2013. I went back to her YouTube channel and listened to all the songs that I loved hearing her sing. Of course that only extended my crying fest. I really looked up to her, I even tried learning how to play piano because of her. Granted my skills are basic on the Yamaha keyboard I got one Christmas that I failed to attempt until I watched her videos years after receiving it.  Recently the deaths of Carrie Fisher and Debbie Reynolds have upset me quite a bit. More so Debbie Reynolds. I have developed a love for Carrie Fisher since watching a few of video of her like her special ‘Wishful Drinking’, her interviews, and reading some of her quotes on mental health. I never watched Star Wars or anything she was in so I had less of a connection to her. However, I really respect her as a person and how strong she was. It makes me want to try and keep fighting through and battling my mental illnesses as best I can. Debbie Reynolds has always reminded me of my grandmother, and my grandmother is my absolute favourite family member. I first saw Debbie in the film Halloweentown which was released the year I was born, so it’s always been on TV when I was growing up. I loved her portrayal of Aggie Cromwell. As in she was the only character I really cared about for the most part. I would only really pay attention when she was on screen. I have since see some clips from some of her films in her early career like ‘Singing in the Rain’,’Tammy and the Bachelor’ and ‘The Unsinkable Molly Brown’. In ‘Molly Brown’ she sings a song called ‘I Ain’t Down Yet’ hence where the title of this blog comes from. Seeing all these gave me more respect and appreciation for her. When I found out she died I got really upset and I cried for a bit. Then because I was feeling overwhelmed I went outside for a cigarette and I broke down again while I was outside and I felt like I had been punched in the stomach.

That’s as much as I’m going to get into talking about what happened in the world because I think enough people have given out about Trump and all the other shit that this year had to offer. I’m going to reflect back on how this year was for me. I think the best way for me to describe it is that it’s been the best bad year I’ve ever had, because no year for me is ever good. This year brought many amazing people and opportunities into my life but it was also a very difficult year for me. First off I’m going to reflect on the New Years Resolutions I made last year. The first one was to lose weight and I think I actually did that. I did starve myself a bit but I had been doing for that in 2015 too but I guess it worked out better this time. I’ve since stopped that and worked on just have smaller meals spaced out instead of skipping two meals a day. My next one was to be a good P.R.O for the Radio Society and I think I did that. I mean we made it to BICS and one of the awards we were going for was heavily reliant on my work. Although we didn’t win the experience at the BICS Awards was amazing and I would love nothing more than to go back again in 2017, so here’s hoping!! My next resolution was to talk more on radio and I definitely did that. In February, my friend Jodi had me on her radio show to talk about my role as P.R.O. and I think that is still the best show I have ever recorded on radio and I’ve done a good few at this point. I was very sarcastic but I wasn’t being too harsh and I just had a good time doing that show. I think it really highlighted how much I had come out of my shell since starting college a few months prior.  I had only really just become good friends with Jodi around that time too so it made the whole atmosphere a lot more enjoyable because we got on very well and I could talk to her easily enough, which is my main problem when talking on radio I’m not a good conversationalist normally. The last of the main resolutions was for me to be a better friend and now this had two parts to it. The first part being more for myself to talk to my friends more and not be afraid to call them or message them if I had a problem that I needed to talk to someone about or else just to talk to them because I wanted to. I’m always afraid that I will be bothering them so I just never do. This is something I haven’t improved upon this year at all. I will still sit in my room and feel really alone even though it could easily be fixed if I talked to someone. The other part of that resolution was for me to actively be a better friend. Make sure I complimented my friends more, let them know how important they are to me, help them with anything and stress the point to them that they could talk to me about anything. That part of the resolution I really think I did a lot better on. Like I say in almost every blog I write, nothing makes me happier than seeing someone I care about smile or laugh. Selfishly I always want to be the reason for that, but even if I’m not who cares because they are happy and that is more important than anything. One of my resolutions that I was trying to continue from 2015 was to be funnier and while I do think I try a bit hard sometimes, I think the jokes I make are coming to me a lot more naturally and I know my friends in college well enough at this point to make jokes that really cater to them. I felt a lot more accepted than I did last year. For first semester of college I felt a bit out of place for a while but I felt like I really found my place in second semester.

I think I would attribute that to being on the radio society committee. I felt like I had a voice. I felt kind of in charge. I know I wasn’t chairperson or anything but I did strike a bit of fear into our chairperson. He saw me when I was extremely stressed and angry when it came to filling out forms for BICS. It’s nice to know that Dexter is still a a bit scared of me even though we don’t work on the committee together anymore. He helped me the most this year through everything. Through the stress of those forms and through my anxiety attacks. He always asked me if I was ok. He always wanted to make sure I was happy. He also never wanted to let me down, which I don’t think he could possibly ever do. This semester though he’s really been there for me when I needed him which is both great and awful. Great, because I really needed him. Awful, because he’s going to be gone the next 8 months. I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself. He was much too good to me, at times when I didn’t even deserve it. I could have yelled at him about something and instead of getting angry back he wouldn’t say anything for a while and when I calmed down he’d asked me what was really wrong. I usually just said stress with assignments. Since I have dedicated an entire blog to him recently I will end my praises with one final thing. Dexter, I cherish our friendship so much and I can’t wait for you to kick ass as station manager of Wired FM.

I also became better friends with Stan this year. I really appreciate his humour and I think we just get on really well. We’re the two in our class who don’t do our work until last minute. We skip a lot of the same classes and we can be bad influences with each other and convince the other to also skip the class. I actually learn a lot from him, whether it’s pop culture, sports, social or political issues, there’s always something. He’s the person I tell everything to even when he’s tired of hearing me go on about the same things time and time again. He gives me shit for it sometimes but I know it comes from a place of caring.

I want to take a minute to thank my roommates, or housemates whatever you want to call them. I’m very grateful for you putting up with me, your support and thank you with dealing with me when I’m acting crazy. You girls make me laugh so much and ye made the transition of moving out of home so much easier. I promise that this year I will help clean more, I know I wasn’t helping out a lot. Thank you for being good friends to me and I’m looking forward for these last few months until we all move out in May. I dread that day so much, so for now let’s just live in the moment and have a good time in Apartment 8 aka the best apartment in Oakfield!!

Someone who I feel like I’ve spent most of my time with this year is Jodi. Seeing as I had maybe a total of like 4 conversations with her this time last year, it sort of surprised me a little. To be fair, I think the best friendships always happen unexpectedly. I expect that all that time spent with me she is probably glad to have a break from me at the moment.  I know you’ll be super busy this semester so feel free to tell me fuck off at any point.  Also remember that if you want to talk to me about anything I’m always there and don’t you dare apologize again for crying in front of me, if something is upsetting you let me be there to listen and/or turn those tears in laughter asap.Since you make me laugh so much, because I think you’re hilarious, I think I should try and return the favour! As part of one of my New Years Resolutions I want to let go of my fear of embarrassing myself so if me doing something that would embarrass myself in some way would make you laugh I’ll do it. I’m embarrassed by a lot of things, so girl you have a lot to choose from. (I can also be hired for small parties and corporate functions.) Also I’m sorry for when I was being a massive bitch and upsetting you during the year, well it really during the past few months. I will spend this year making it up to you and making sure I don’t do anything like that again.

While this year has had many highlights like the BICS Awards, Sports and Socs Ball, College Ball, Pink Training, March for Education etc., there has been some bumps in the road. My mental health went to absolute shit this year and I mean to the point where I was like “Who is this crazy bitch?” I’ve had I think about 4 fully fledged anxiety attacks this year and they’ve all happened in college. I’ve probably had a lot of little ones which I either had when I was alone or else I kept it to myself so no one knew anything was wrong. I started cutting myself in about May or June and continued to do so up until September on my first night out of Freshers Week where my friend started crying so much because of what I had done to myself.  She was also fairly drunk and is prone to crying a lot anyways but I would still like to lessen that happening as much as I possibly can. I knew if I stopped that it would make sure that an incident like that wouldn’t happen again. So I did stop and I haven’t cut myself since. I like to compare that moment of us in the chipper where she cried at my scars to the scene in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets where Fawkes’ tears heal the massive gash on Harry’s arm caused by the Basilisk. Not that my scars healed immediately but had I not stopped cutting at that time I probably never would have stopped. So luckily now I don’t have any permanent scars from that time, well at least not any that are easy to see. I like to think they are all gone but I can still see the faint lines on my skin, they turned into white scars which I already have enough of on my body with the stretch marks I have everywhere. I have been fairly suicidal this year not that it’s something I have talked much about. It’s not really a great topic of conversation. I’ve been doing good though like the last few weeks. Probably because I finally started using anti-depressants. I’m still trying to figure out whether they are actually helping or whether it’s like the placebo effect where I think they should help me so I feel like they are but really it’s all in head. Well technically it all is anyway, my head is where all the problems lie.

I know I haven’t really talked that much about the good things that happened during the year but most of them have been put into a blog that you can just go and read. If they’re not in a blog then they are just memories that I’m keeping to myself, in other words they are videos I recorded on snapchat of my friends that just make me happy that I have them in my life. They are just a constant source of joy and entertainment. So I’m going to talk about my resolutions for this year and let’s hope I can be better this year in some way!!

2017 Resolutions:

  1. Stop taking myself so seriously-I need to learn to laugh at myself more and get over my fear of embarrassment because it holds me back a lot. Sure there’s times where I’d love to dance around like nobody’s watching but I just don’t want to look stupid in front of people.  I need to let that go. Look stupid in front of people. Like why does there opinion matter if I’m having fun? It doesn’t. Remember that!
  2. Focus on college-Girl, I need to stay in college or I will have nothing. I love it there and I don’t want to give it up because I have difficulty focusing. Pick up the slack this semester, because repeating isn’t an option.
  3. Learn to deal with being alone-I have a fear of both abandonment and being alone. So when I’m alone, I get really depressed. I have a constant need to always be around people and when I’m not I kind of freak out, like a lot. I get inside my own head and tell myself why I’m alone “It’s because they all hate you!” Sometimes it can go to the realm of insanity where I ask myself “Are you sure there ever was people? You have actually been alone the last 18 years, you just imagined that these other people were there!” Luckily the latter thought is very rare.
  4. Work on making myself better-I think I’ve spent the last 2 years saying I will try and make myself better, but I want this to be the year where I really start doing something about it. The year is already off to a good start, so I need to try and keep it up!!

 

 

 

I’m Losing My Memory

I’ve noticed over the past few months that my memory is getting worse and worse. For the most part I think it is attributed to my alcohol consumption as I have gone out at least once a week for almost every week since September.  It’s gotten a lot worse recently probably because I had a lot to drink over 3 nights in a row last week. I find it really hard to remember some parts of Pink Training. Like I took a snapchat of my friend dancing away in Chambers and I had no recollection of it and was really surprised to see it on my story the next day. It scares me when I can’t remember things. I usually have one of the best memory’s when it comes to nights out or any event in general. I can remember the smallest of details that everyone else always forgets ever happened.

I went out Thursday night and since I had no money I had to do all my drinking before the night club. I don’t know if I’ve ever been that drunk before. Even my drunk weekend seemed tame in comparison. I was over drinking at my house for a while before going to over to the 4th years place. I was langers when I got there. I was outside smoking a cigarette at one point and I kind of fell against the wall and said “I’m seriously drunk and I hate it.” I went back over the my place after a while to go to the bathroom and my roommate wouldn’t let me go back to the 4th years until I downed 2 pint glasses of water. It did nothing. Refreshing yes, but that is the extent of the help it gave me. We eventually went to Fabrik and for the first time ever I wasn’t asked for ID going in there. I had already bought my ticket so I could walk right in without queuing to pay. I told Jodi I was going to the bathroom and I’d see her inside. When I left the bathroom I couldn’t find anyone for what felt like ages. I got really upset and frustrated because I just felt really lost on my own and it was really busy there too so I was anxious as fuck. I felt like their was a war going on inside of brain,heart,liver and stomach all night. All locked away not to be shared with a soul. Even if I had told someone how I was feeling I really don’t think they would have understood the full extent of it. I don’t even fully understand it.

I’d say my favourite part of the night was the walk home. I was with Jodi,Tab and Stan. I was really walking with Jodi as Tab and Stan were a bit ahead of us. I was told today that there was people I met at the Fabrik last night that I don’t remember meeting. Anyways as we were walking home we were belting out the chorus of Robbie Williams song ‘Angels’, as well as listening to a few other songs while we walked. I was definitely happiest in that moment. I noticed as we began to leave town and head home that I was being really needy and clingy. I just kept linking my arm with Jodi’s. I don’t know was it because I hadn’t seen her all day until I went to the 4th years house. I don’t know did I feel like I was going to fall over. I don’t know what was wrong with me. As happy as I was with them, I was relived to be back at the house so I could get to bed. Stan was staying on my couch and I didn’t go into the sitting room so I only found out today that Dexter was also sleeping there. I didn’t even know he was in the house. I didn’t even see him all night. I went up to my room anyway still smiling and happy from the walk home. That was until I turned the light on in my room and closed the door. I just looked at my empty bed and got really sad. I felt lonely. I wish I had someone to share it with, although it’s only a single bed. Nothing sexual or anything because I’m not about that. I just wanted someone to hold me and make me feel safe. Make me feel loved and cared for. I don’t know why I’ve gotten really upset about not being in a relationship. I know this happens ever now and again but the idea of someone actually being in love with me, and it not some cruel joke someone plays on me to mess with my emotions,is still just a mere fantasy. As the months go by I feel as though this could remain a fantasy for a very long time. Due to the fact that I’m not really into the whole having sex thing, my ultimate wish from a physical point of view is someone who will hug me forever. From an emotional point of view all I want is someone who cares a lot about me, adores me as much as I adore them, makes me laugh, helps me through my anxious and depressive states, tells me stories, talks a lot and let’s me just sit there and listen. I guess I just need to be patient. I’ll have that someday. I deserve to have that someday right?

Pink Training 2016!

I don’t think I have the words to properly describe what that weekend was but I will try to paint the picture of it as best as I can. It was the most amazing weekend of my life and I can’t be more thankful that I had the opportunity to go. It was the 1st time in a really long time where I was at an event and I didn’t feel insecure at all. For those of you who don’t know, Pink Training is a 3 day long event run by the USI in relation to the LGBTQIA+ community and discussing current issues affecting the community and learning more about other identities that we may not know much about. I didn’t really get too excited about going. Mostly because if I get too excited about something it usually ends up going to shit. I got nervous about going to it alright. I’m not a stranger to being out and proud but it is still a secret to the likes of my parents and family. I made sure when I started college that everyone knew that I was gay, or at the time bisexual. Only one person ever seemed to have a problem with it and they have since ceased in their detest for it.

As proud of my sexuality as I am, there is still issues I always have with it and there is ways in which I hide it. I never think about my sexuality a lot and it is something I always push to the back of my mind. In fact, I thought I might like girls from the age of like 12 and didn’t think it was something I needed to waste my time thinking about so I just forgot about it. It wasn’t until I was 15 or 16 that I started to learn about what being gay really was and that I actually could be a lesbian. On a daily basis, I do tend to hide half of my sexuality because of the negative stereotypes and misunderstandings that go along with it. That is the fact that I am asexual and if I tell anyone that they just want to tell me that I’m wrong and when the right person comes along I will change my mind. They think that because I’m asexual I can’t be attracted to girls and my lesbian status is wrong. I am romantically attracted to girls and I do have sexual thoughts towards some of these girl crushes it doesn’t make me any less asexual and being asexual doesn’t make me any less of a lesbian.

So back to Pink Training. We started off by registering. We ended up getting a bag full of free things, a t-shirt which has a quote by Oscar Wilde on it that says “Be yourself;everyone else is already taken”, we got wristbands that say “I’m an LGBT ally”, and we got lanyards where we wrote our name, pronouns, and our college. The pronouns being on them was really wonderful to see because it erases the need to try and awkwardly ask and you can skip right to the stage of respecting what someone’s pronouns are from the beginning. Like if someone asked me what my pronouns are it would make me feel somewhat insecure like I think “Do I not look like a girl?” At the same time that isn’t exactly how I should be thinking because what does it mean to look like a girl but when you are the gender you are and you accept and identify yourself as that gender you just feel like everyone else should be able to see that too. It’s also the fact that as a cis female I have been mis-gendered more than once so I feel really strongly about using the correct pronouns for everyone because that mis-gendering stuff feels really shit.

After registration we got free pizza and then since we had registered so early and that was on for 2 hours we went to the room where the first talk was on in and watched them set up the speakers and microphones and stuff. While this was happening  one of the guys working for USI was just playing a videos on the projecter and we were just pissing ourselves laughing. Eventually the talk was starting so we got our seats up in one of the middle rows of the lecture hall that it was on in. As eager as we were about Pink Training we weren’t eager enough to stay sitting in the front row. I loved the welcome talk so much it was really during that talk that I really started to get excited about Pink Training. Also that my love for one of the USI members is still intact and stronger than ever. We didn’t have really many talks on the Friday it was mostly and introduction so we for all of Friday we just had the welcome talk, icebreakers and then a Lip Sync Battle. On the lanyards we got a important person in the LGBT+ community written on the back of each one e.g. Laverne Cox, Ellen Degeneres,Harvey Milk etc. There was rooms marked with a photo and description of who the person was an whoever’s name was on the back of our lanyards was the room we had to go to for our icebreakers. I got the Panti Bliss room. The icebreaker was a bingo game where it had things like “Is a Ravenclaw”, “Actually likes the taste of vodka”, “Has a crush on someone at Pink Training”. The whole point of it was that we had to go talk to the other people in the room in hopes that we could say yes to one of the boxes on our bingo sheet and we could cross it off and write their name on underneath where we marked it off. It was fun actually and I usually really hate icebreakers. We went back into the main room of the Training which was the Harvery Milk room and we watched the Lip Sync Battle. We learned a lot about Harvey Milk over the weekend and before then I had never heard of him but now I’m really interested to learn even more about him because his story is really interesting and I’ve always been very curious in the LGBT+ community in the 20th century. The Lip Sync battle was amazing but due to unforeseen circumstances it was cut short and we watched the rest of the acts on Sunday. It was hosted by one of the local drag queens and I realized this weekend that I love drag queens. They just make me so happy.

When that finished up we drove back to the hostel to get ready for our first night out in Cork. Unlike most colleges we drove to the event and I think it made it much better because if we had to rely on public transport I’d say we would have missed talks because we would not have gotten up in time for the bus. Also the drives up and down were a really great part of the weekend. We got to the hostel and I was given a top bunk. I didn’t ask for one but I secretly wanted one more than anything. As soon as I got up there I think I was really happy. I was sitting up there Saturday morning and Jodi looked up at me, which was a first, and was like “I have never seen you more happy than when you’re sitting up there. Like you have not stopped smiling since you got up there.” The room was really small but luckily it was only the 6 of us from our delegation that were in the room so it wasn’t that bad. It just meant that I couldn’t always leave the room when I wanted to and I kept having to delay it because there was nowhere for me to walk. I just sat up on my bunk pretending like I was getting ready. It doesn’t take me that long to get ready anyways so it wasn’t that much of a hindrance. I did have to use alternative sides of the bed to get down that weren’t the designated ladder but I didn’t fall once (thank god). While we were getting ready one of my friends in my class sent me a message saying that she showed her friend a photo of me and she thought I was “gorgeous”, which made me feel like this was a joke message because who the fuck would think that about me. I knew it wasn’t a joke because my friend wouldn’t do that but anyways the girl was looking for my number. I knew I didn’t want to give her my number but I still wasn’t completely sure what to do so I showed it to Jodi and she read it out to the room. The entirety of my delegation was like “Message her back right fucking now and get that number!” I messaged my friend back anyway and said I didn’t feel comfortable giving her my number because I didn’t know anything about her bar her first name. Also I didn’t want to be thinking about that while I was going out because I was really hoping this weekend I would get my first ever shift but that never happened. At least some people got that lucky this weekend!!!

So we eventually called a taxi to get into town from our hostel. We had a little bit to pre drink but we had to leave so that we would be in before half past 11 because they had free entry until then. We didn’t make it in in time but entry was only €3 so it wasn’t that bad. So I had my first experience with Chambers and I fucking loooooooved it!!!!! Until I went there I thought I hated nightclubs, I still probably hate most of them but I love Chambers. The music wasn’t bad and I had waaay too much to drink that night. At least I had one drink paid for. That was by a girl that I met at BICS in April and who I referred to in that blog as Hedgehog, so I’m sticking with that as her name for the rest of this too. (Alternative title for this blog was ‘The Return of Hedgehog’ but I didn’t want this blog to be all about her, I think someone else would might a much better one than I ever could about her). I spent all night in the nightclub with my delegation, Hedgehog, and a guy who was at Pink Training that I have been friends with since I was 5 and I had not seen him since March so I was really happy that he was there. I can’t even remember what drinks I had that night but that’s mostly because I wasn’t the one who ordered them. I just gave someone money to get me whatever shot they were getting. All in all Friday was a good night. We got back to the hostel and I went up to my bunk first because somebody wasn’t ready to go to bed yet because apparently one would regret sleeping in jeans, but not me I didn’t regret it someone else felt like they would have and told me I would too. I was literally lying down covers over me and everything and then I hear that Jodi and two of the girls were going out for a cigarette and I sprung out of bed and I was like “Wait for me I want to have one too!!” After our cigarette we went back upstairs and were getting ready for bed. A teddy that Jodi had bought earlier that day was kicked out of the bed. There is a story behind this teddy and it makes me laugh so much. So when we arrived in Cork we were there a few hours before registration started so we went to the Wilton shopping centre. We went into Penneys and you know we were shopping around getting things that we needed like unicorn bracelets and some stuff we didn’t need like fake eyelashes. We were looking at the gift section of the shop where they were selling customized cups and mugs and stuff and Jodi sees this little penguin teddy there all on it’s own and it made her feel sad she was like “Where’s his family? I need to go find his family!” She looked for the family for the bones of 30 seconds and gave up but wouldn’t let go of the teddy. If she couldn’t find his family then he was coming home with her, and that’s exactly what happened. Even though when we were in the queue she did actually see a place where there was a load of these small Christmas teddies, at that point she had developed an emotional attachment to him and had to buy him at that stage because there was no turning back. She walked out of their then and was like “I don’t know why I did that. I don’t need him. I couldn’t leave him there but like why did I just buy him?” Anyways as the day progressed the teddy later became known as Fred, I think it was a very apt name. So when he got kicked out of bed Friday night I felt bad for him. Once he got the name I really felt like he became part of the delegation. Also I usually have a teddy at home so I found comfort in having one while I was there. Especially seeing as I had no person to actually cuddle with, I had to deal with what I was given. I am sure though that anyone who had someone to actually cuddle with there had a much better night than I did. I got really emotional Friday night when I went to bed after my cigarette so I kind of had a bit of a short,silent cry before I actually went to sleep and no it had nothing to do with me sleeping in an unfamiliar place or anything like that I just felt lonely in a room of 6 people.

So Saturday morning was not very fun when waking up. I was so tired but thank god all I had to was throw on a t-shirt and wipe off my make-up. I went to a lot of talks on Saturday but there is a few I regretted not going to. From the ones I did go to though I learned how to run a kick-ass society, the link between repeal the 8th and LGBT+ rights, and decoding bisexual stereotypes. I loved that bisexual talk so much because there is so many stupid stereotypes surrounding bi people and they infuriate me more than anything else so if you think that they are representative of what it means to be bisexual than I will physically fight you you fucking ignorant bastard. We then got a talk from Microsoft because they were sponsoring PT and honestly I couldn’t complain especially when I saw the speaker from Microsoft. As in Jodi, Hedgehog and I were all sitting next to each other and just weak for the speaker, she was insanely pretty and the American accent really helped, or at least it really did for Jodi. We then got a talk from a guy who had a history with the gay rights movement in Cork and really pointed out how much Cork is involved in the movement which I never realised until his talk. We then made our way back to the hostels to get ready for night 2. I decided I would wear a dress because why the fuck not? While I didn’t really feel insecure over the weekend, there was a few points where I felt less secure about myself because of someone else. Someone who I found out is the same clothes size as me, has a really fucking attractive body and then there’s me with nothing to offer anyone unless they want to cuddle a fucking human marshmallow, which no one obviously fucking does. (Sorry that sentence came off angrier than I intended it too.) The people in my delegation really liked the dress when I showed it to them and when I wearing it they said I looked nice. That was the start and end of any compliments I received during the weekend, it’s not like I expected any.

We left the hostel to go to the bar where we were meeting all the other delegates for the Pink Party. There was giant Jenga, finger food, and more importantly there was a bowling alley on the second floor. The place seemed unreal. We had to be at the bar around half 8 after getting back to the hostel at around 7 so there was no time for pre-drinking, much to everyone’s dismay except mine because I’m a lightweight.  So when we got to the bar, Jodi and I went to a nearby off licence so that she could buy a naggin of vodka. It was down a not very well lit alley way and because she was nervous for just the two of us to walk down there she said “Should we get a lad to go with us?” To which I responded being “We don’t need a fucking lad!!!” So we made our way there fine but Jodi had to do a bit of a jog back because she was still a bit scared about that alley way. We got back to the bar and Jodi ordered a 7-up and we went upstairs so that she could go to the bathroom to mix it with her naggin. She was acting as if she was doing something illegal like it felt like we about to plan a heist or throw a cherry bomb down the toilet or something.  We went back down and met up with the rest of our delegation and headed towards Chambers. We made it there just in time for free entry. Also I was happy I wasn’t as drunk as the Friday night because I had to show my age card, student card and lanyard and I would have not been able to do that if I was any more inebriated. I think I had the best night that night because while we were in there I got to meet the USI president and I think I died and went to heaven. I can’t remember the last time I was that incredibly happy. We didn’t even talk for that long. I told her that I saw her at the Education March a few weeks ago and I loved her speeches from that and she immediately goes “Have you contacted your local TD yet? You’d better contact them as soon as you get home. Promise me that.” I told her that I will but we’ll just leave it at that. While I was talking to her and just on cloud nine, Jodi was standing nearby with one of the other USI officers and she says to him “Look over there, look at Sandra.” He goes “What has her so happy?” Jodi just says “Because of who she’s talking to.” I think he then just rolled his eyes. I then had a shot with the USI president and another officer, I think it was sambuca. After I was done with that interaction with the USI president, which two days later I’m still on a high from, I ran straight over the Jodi and hugged her, kissed on the cheek and was like “Thank you so much!!!!!” Jodi then said that even more than when I was sitting up in the top bunk of the bed in the hostel, she had never ever seen me more happy then that moment in Chambers. I don’t know if I had ever been that happy before but I loved it. I love that the happiness hasn’t subsided yet. I also got a selfie with her so I can always relive that moment. We were in Chambers for another while and then we headed back to the hostel.

This is where I brought the happiness to a halt. I don’t know why but I got the idea into my head that I would be cuddling Jodi that night, like why would I think  when I’m you know human marshmallow and all that, but I got really upset when I found out that it was not to be. I had no right to be upset. I had no reason to be upset. I just remember we were both outside our room in the hallway and as I go to the room door I just said like “Go fuck yourself Jodi!” She says to me in a sort of calm voice, “Sandra, stop it. We never said that was going to happen.You can’t get upset about this” Again I go “Just go fuck yourself”. She said “Are you going to be angry at me in the morning?” I kind of smirked because I’m not used to being angry like that and she said straight away “Ha you’re smiling, you’re not mad at me at all.” If anything I think this made me more upset and I don’t know why so I just started saying “Do whatever the fuck you want I don’t care anymore you can fuck off!” Then she said something that kind of broke my heart she was like “Do you want me to start crying?” I completely switched and I ran up to her and I was like “Please don’t cry. I’m sorry. I really don’t want you to cry I was being stupid.” I think I had said sorry but it’s hard to remember. A lot was happening in the space of a few minutes. So then I gave her a hug and she started bawling crying. All weekend I never felt any bit sick but in that moment I actually felt so sick to my stomach with myself. I felt evil. I felt like I had done the worst thing, which I did. I hurt someone who has never hurt me. It didn’t matter that I was drunk, that is no excuse. I was an utter bitch. So while I was hugging her and she was crying she tried to let go and said “I’m fine.” I said in a sad sort of soft voice, “No you’re not.” Still crying she said “You’re right, I’m not” So I hugged her for a bit longer and shortly after that she stopped crying. We did make up before we actually went to bed but I again silently cried myself to sleep but that night it was worse because I knew I had fucked up. You know what I didn’t deserve to cuddle anyone that night. I didn’t even deserve Fred, the penguin teddy, but I had him nonetheless.  I don’t think I said anything about it the next day because we were so busy for most of the day so I think I kind of blocked it out. I thought about it in the car but I didn’t want to bring down the vibe of the car journey home and also I only wanted to say it to Jodi. I sent her a message when I got home because I couldn’t sleep without properly apologising. I am really sorry about what happened and I feel like I am coming very close to strike 3 in this friendship so I’m worried if I fuck up once more that’s it. She’ll say “gone good luck” to me and that’ll be it. I know I’m being a little paranoid but my biggest fear, even more than spiders or the many other things I am extremely fearful of, is losing her as a friend and I will try my hardest to make sure I don’t ever fuck up again because I fucking hate this feeling and I hate what I did. Now all I can do is apologise, prove that it won’t happen again, and try to show her that I’m not a complete fuckwad.

Sunday morning I woke up and everyone was rushing around packing their bags which I had pretty much done all of the night so I know I had time to keep lying there and not doing anything. I think I got hit twice to get the fuck up and then I got a pillow thrown at me by one of the girls and I threw it back at her and was told that if I didn’t get up straight away she would go over to my bunk and attack me. So I sat up immediately and was like “I’m up, you can’t attack me now!” I ended up just throwing my jeans on and sitting up there while I watched everyone else rush to get things done. Like I was ready to go before anyone else really. Yet none of us would have left in time for the only talk I was actually really excited to go to which was “Asexuality 101” the first of our cars that went would have gotten there half way through the talk and I didn’t go then because I’d rather have been in that talk from the start, I couldn’t walk in half way through into that talk. When Jodi knew that I was missing it I just said to her “Well there’s nothing I can really do about it now. It’s fine!” I was in the room for ages with Jodi and Hedgehog and the whole time I was still just sitting up in my bunk. Jodi was like “Are we all ready to go?” To which Hedgehog says “Sure Sandra isn’t ready to go she’s still up in bed!” So I tried to be cool and really fucking smooth and jump over the railing of my bunk on the ground below and I landed successfully. However, I really hurt my shoulders when I jumped from the bed because I was holding onto the railing of both my bed and the one across from it. So when I jumped down I felt like I was going to pull my arms out of their sockets. As soon as I landed I laid down in the bottom bunk until my shoulders stopped hurting which took a couple of minutes. It would have been nice if they were more concerned about the fact that I could have dislocated one or both of my shoulders but sure look and sure listen I was fine. I didn’t need anyone to care. It just shows what happens when I try to be smooth and show off. It ends up making me look stupid.

We got into the college in time for about half an hour of the safe spaces. Each identity had their own room so like there was a gay safe space, a bi safe space, a transgender safe space etc. So I wasn’t really in the mood to go into one of these talks alone,I wasn’t with anyone who was my orientation and I was torn between going to the lesbian space or the asexual space. I just went with Jodi into the bisexual safe space and I really loved it. The speakers in their were amazing and like I really just loved the atmosphere of the room and hearing all the different stories. If anything I think that that was the best talk of PT bar anything that went on in the main lecture hall when we were all together. We had the rest of the Lip Sync battle and it kind of woke us up a bit. Then it was followed by the very emotional goodbye talk. As in the president of USI started to cry towards the end of her speech and I fucking lost it. I couldn’t deal. Also just the idea that Pink Training was ending I was an emotional wreck leaving that lecture hall. We then went and got a group photo taken with us all in our different colour t-shirts that we were given which were made up of the colours the rainbow. We got our lunch and then decided to head off after saying a few goodbyes. We went out to the car and we were there for a bit before we actually left but in a few ways I was very happy to be heading home. We stopped for McDonalds in Mallow on the way home and I found out that I had some sort of drink Saturday night that had brandy in it and I didn’t even know. To be fair I feel like my memory of this weekend is really bad. I honestly think that I drank too much and it’s taking me far longer to remember all the little details that I usually do after a night out.

As relieved as I was to finally get home, it was still a sad time especially since there was no one in my house when I got back. Also as soon as I walked in the door all I could hear was voices inside my head. It started off with just the voices of who I was just in the car with and then it became voices of everything that happened over the weekend whether they were conversations I had been involved in or not, I could just hear all of these different voices and some I did not recognise. They started getting louder and louder and I felt like I was going to break down. All I wanted to do was hit my head and try to get my brain to shut up, but luckily I resisted. Thankfully my mom called about 45 minutes into my crisis and while I didn’t tell her what happened, it did get the voice to start to quiet down and eventually disappear.

I waited for one of my roommates to come home and talked to her for a bit before I went to bed. I slept for 11 hours. When I awoke the Monday morning I think I felt really happy. I never wake up happy unless I have plans in which I’m really excited for. I didn’t get into college until like 20 past 11. I had a really good day at college, even better than usual. I did only go to one of the three classes I had but that’s a normal Monday recently. Jodi actually went to college even though I really thought that she wouldn’t because she didn’t have to be in. We actually saw a lot of each other today which I thought was really weird because I thought that she would definitely have had enough of me after the weekend. In the smoking area I actually congratulated her on surviving the weekend with me. I brought up the fact that I was going to write this blog and she told me not to write some things in this and I respected that and told her I wouldn’t. The main reason being that all throughout Pink Training it was always said that not everyone wants what they were doing at Pink Training out on the internet because the whole point of the Training was that it was a safe space where everyone’s privacy should be respected so that’s why I kept some things out of this. Another big reason being is that she is my friend and if she really doesn’t want me to write something on here then I won’t because what good would that do anyone. It’s not like these things I would’ve have written had any relation to me. She is the only one who has the right to share them. However, she did tell me also tell me not to write about our fight because it would just make her cry, and that’s the only thing I said no to her on. That fight was all my fault. It was me being a complete bitch. This is part of my therapy process. I can’t only deal with the good parts of the weekend, the one bad thing that happened needs to be mentioned too so that it is out of my system and I can actually move on from it because if I don’t I could overthink about it for months and really bring myself down about it.  However, today despite those post PT blues we both got on as normal and I made her laugh a lot which is always my favourite thing to do especially since the most difficult thing for me to do is to get Jodi to properly laugh out loud at something I say instead of just a giggle or something like she usually does. So she was on Facebook and a post came up about Pokemon of which she knows very little about. It was about having hope in yourself because something as useless as a Magikarp can turn into something as strong as a Gyarados. So she found this funny but didn’t fully understand it so I described Magikarp in a way I knew would make her laugh, I said “All Magikarp fucking did was flop around, he did fuck all!!” While saying that I was moving my hands like a fish would moves it’s fins when it’s out of water and flopping all around the place. I gave her a hug when she was leaving and she tried to break off that hug but because today wasn’t the best day for her I knew she needed a longer hug so I didn’t let go for a little bit after that. When she was getting her bag and going to leave she said that she did really need that hug. I honestly think that was the only long hug where it wasn’t because I was being needy, I was actually trying to do it selflessly because I think she needed it more than I did.

I have come away from Pink Training a bit confused like I was when I started college last year. I feel like I could actually be bisexual, with more preference towards women. I’d still be asexual though so like dicks still repulse me more than anything on this entire planet. So maybe I’m not really bisexual but that’s for me to continue to try and figure out. I’m really proud after coming away from Pink Training with questions because I really thought I was at the point where I was dead certain on what I identified as. That’s the thing though sexuality can be fluid so this will probably be a constant thing I question for the rest of my life but at least now, compared to a few years ago, I actually do know that there is women I’m attracted to and I know a few things about them that I’m attracted to. Pink Training is just to help me progress through this journey of sexuality.#ProgressInPink