3rd Year, You Are Going To Kill Me!!

I had such high hopes for 3rd year. I had witnessed two groups ahead of me doing this year and from them I thought the year sounded interesting. I mean this is the year I finally got to do a script writing module which was exciting and fun for about 3 weeks but then it lost its appeal, but I’ll come back to that!

4 out of 6 of my modules have group projects. This might not be two bad if the groups were more varied and I had a chance to work with a lot of different people because right now having mostly the same groups for 3 of these groups is confusing. For two of them I don’t have so much of a problem with the group thing because I do think it’s necessary in order to get the project done right. What I can’t stand is the need for Media Writing, my script writing module, being s group project. The group component of this too is a big part of the overall final grade which, I’m sorry, is utter bullshit. This project is writing a script plus a few other things for a 10 minute feature. Could someone please explain to me the absolute necessity why this needs to be a group project??  I would gladly write that myself. This isn’t because I have an idea that I’m “really precious and protective over” like my lecturer asked me multiple times, as if I’m actually the problem as to why this group dynamic isn’t working. Ever since I was in junior infants, I’ve had a massive fear of every authority figure. Since being in college, I’ve been finding it a bit easier to deal with authority figures because I’ve had lecturers that are respectful, understanding and that listen. That was up until yesterday when a lecturer approached me and addressed a problem I had with my group which I had emailed her about the night before. First of all, it was the day of the college open day which I was working for so I thought it was extremely inappropriate to bring up the subject while I was working at the stand for my course. I also felt very intimidated and small because I was sitting down and she was standing over me. It also seemed like she was very close to my face but that was probably because the place was loud with students and music. All those things made me feel uncomfortable especially the last thing because I don’t like eye contact and because she was so close to me I couldn’t avoid it and she was talking to me for much too long. She kept saying things to me like “in a real job you’ll have to deal with loads of people you don’t like and you’ll just have to deal with it”. I’m sick of this excuse. I’ve been in this course for 3 years, I get that’s what a real job will be like but guess what? This is not a real job, it is a college course. Being a college student isn’t cheap and I expect to get the most out of my education. I’d would have expected my lecturers would want me to succeed, but I guess that’s not always the case. My grade in this particular module would be so much better if I was in a different group, or better yet by myself. Also I should mention that my current ambition for when I finish my course is to be a script writer for TV so this module was the one I was the most excited for and should have been the most beneficial for me but unfortunately that’s not the case. When I finished having this super unhelpful “conversation” with that lecturer I ran into on if the recording booths in the radio studio and burst into tears. Not because I can’t change groups but the fact that now that the lecturer has told me not only by email but also now face to face, I can’t take this any further, to any higher power within the college. 

I have never asked for much since starting this course. Rarely have I ever asked for extensions, and this is the VERY FIRST TIME I have asked to change a group. The argument that the other groups are much further along in their story development shouldn’t matter because most of them have not even started to write anything yet. She tells me that she’s sympathetic but she shows me that she’s far from that. I guess now would be a good time to let my script writing dream die because this module is killing my love for that, and my love for other things as well. 

Another reason as to why I’m currently hating 3rd year, is because of another lecturer. I won’t even mention what they teach because you don’t need to know who they are and it’s not like they teach me anything in that module. I’ve skipped a lot of these classes because the lecturer makes me so angry and what makes me angry also is that my classmates have the ability to laugh at what he says because of how ridiculous it all is. I wish I had that ability because it would make my life so much easier. However, I can’t laugh at constant racist remarks, stories and videos he has us watch. I get angry at this and also the pointlessness of having 3 hours of this module a week and not learning a single thing. 

These last couple of weeks, I’ve started to feel invisible again like I’m starting to fade away again. I feel like my voice isn’t heard and therefore my voice is not important, not that I’ve ever thought it was. I’m glad I have a support system there to help me because if I didn’t I definitely would have given up by now. I am currently physically, mentally and emotionally drained. I’ve also been feeling a bit disconnected and less of a human when I’m in college and more of a number on a page. 

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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!

Should I Tell My Parents About My Ongoing Mental Health Problems?

This isn’t a question in which I want your answer. I know what you’re going to say. You are going to say that I should tell them because it’s better to be open and honest about these things otherwise I’m bottling things in and keeping secrets from them. However, my answer would be no, I shouldn’t tell them. I feel very strongly about this and while no one is forcing me to tell them or telling me that I have to do it, I feel like there is a strong sense of annoyance/confusion as to why I won’t tell them.

My relationship with my parents has changed a lot throughout the years and the main thing I have learned is that they won’t find things funny the way I do and they have concerns over certain things I do. I get it. They care about me, they only want what’s best for me and all that shite. I used to tell my parents everything. Everything that happened at school. Every conversation I had with my friends. Every fight and confrontation I had. Everything I was feeling. I reckon I stopped doing this when I was in around 2nd year of secondary school so like 5/6 years ago. Sometimes they would be supportive and helpful and I might even feel better. However, a majority of the time anything that happened to me was my fault. When my friends left me, at the end of first year because they realised they didn’t like me anymore, I got zero sympathy from my parents in the beginning. That was the point in time in which I was most upset about the situation. They kept asking me what I did wrong. They kept saying is was up to me to fix it and I should try really hard to make things right. They couldn’t wrap their heads around the fact that I did nothing wrong. My friends and I just grew apart and we all knew that nothing was going to fix that. That event in my life has shaped a lot about how I am as a person now. How I handle and portray my emotions is always linked to that. The fact that I have the constant fear of that happening again. The fact that I do things that would actually now give someone the reason to leave me because I push people away because I don’t want to be hurt again.

When they finally began to accept that my friends were now gone out of my life and I was left with no one they started to go a little easier on me. I wasn’t blamed as much. Anytime I went to school, and still to this day , they would ask me “So, who were hanging out with in school today?” During that time and for the following few years the answer would either be no one, which they disliked because they want me becoming the loner which I did become, or else I would have actually been with people in my class that I got on with but never really connected with to a great extent. The second one made them happier because their child was normal, their child had friends or at least friends according to my parents. It was that point on that I went through my angst ridden teenage stage of “my parents just don’t understand me”. Which I still feel like they don’t but I pick and choose now what I tell them about. For me, this is a lot easier. If I did tell them everything that has been going on, I would be riddled with questions especially by my mother. My mother wrecks my head enough as is, I don’t need that getting any worse. She has this ability of making me feel really bad even when I’m having the best day. Either by giving out to me for some reason or another, or else telling me all the little things I need to do that have no real purpose. Practically all the reasons I don’t want to tell my parents about any of this relate to my mother because she’s the one that would just make this all a lot worse.

With that in mind, another reason as to why I don’t want to tell them is, their perceptions of mental health. My mother always says things whenever that topic comes up being like “Well thank god you and your brother don’t have any problems like that.” I’m pretty sure one of the times she said this she also then said “I don’t know how we’d cope” as in how they would cope with my brother or I having problems. As if, the burden is on them and they are the ones dealing with a mind of chaos and sadness. Anytime I have told my mother about any friends I have that have gone through things, she always have a judging look on her face and I think has questioned the odd time whether they are a good person for me to be hanging around with because what if it rubs off on me. What if I get infected by the treacherous depression virus or self-harmitis. I’ve definitely been told a few times to be careful around said people and to yes be there for them and support them but not to any massive capacity. I think my mother’s logic when is comes to this is that if someone’s mental health is bad they’re going to be that way forever so there’s not much help you can be to someone.

Even when I do nothing wrong I can still get in trouble. If I get home on the late bus from college I can get in trouble. I’m sorry I’m focused on my education, I’m sorry I can’t get a job to support myself, I’m sorry if I’m tired when I get home and are less than talkative. I have a life to live and I shouldn’t have to follow a set of guidelines that my parents have set for me. I’m sorry I can’t pass every exam I ever do. I’m sorry that I’m a disappointment and not going to go on to become some scientist or science lecturer in the years to come like my brother probably will as he will soon be starting his PhD. I’m sorry I chose a course that has no definite promise of a job at the end. I’m sorry I don’t have a passion for anything. I’m sorry I’d rather spend some nights with my friends instead of you. I’m sorry I want to live a life that is mine. I’m sorry that I’m me and I’m not more like this girl or this daughter of one of your friends who is going off right now to do great things. I’m sorry I want to write and probably not make money for a good couple of years if that is the career path I choose to take. I’m sorry I want to be so involved in the student movement. I don’t want to feel sorry for having bad mental health yes part of it is my own fault but not entirely. It’s been effected by an accumulation of events and moments from the last 19 years. I don’t want to feel sorry for trying to get help on my own with your permission. You just would have forced me to go see your doctor who I have never met and have no intention of meeting.

If I told my parents what’s wrong with me, I think my home would feel like a prison. They wouldn’t know what to do with me so they probably would be very cautious about where they would let me go and would probably make sure I was supervised at all times. I already feel trapped in this house at times, I don’t want that to get worse. They might stop me from seeing certain people because they might have influenced my bad mental health either because of their own struggles or else for no reason at all. You might wonder how they could control all these things but believe me they would find a way.

This whole thing might sound confusing and not make sense to anyone. This could be just one long ramble of nothingness but I feel like it makes enough sense and I can’t change how I feel about this and I don’t think anyone can talk me into changing my mind. If I do ever tell them it will be in my own time which probably will be another few years away yet. While I might not be the best one to make this judgment because I’m biased and want to assure people that this isn’t a problem, me not telling my parents about this stuff is actually better for my mental health. You might not think it does but maybe I’m just a pro at hiding things. I do it everyday! I don’t have the energy right now to stand my ground and defend MY feelings and MY emotions to my parents. They would try to fight me on it in some way and I just can’t have that in my life right now because it will just make things worse. I’d appreciate anyone who decided to read this not to fight me on this either. I don’t mind if you ask me if I’ve told them, but please don’t tell me that I should tell them at least not more than once. If you’ve made your point once, I have heard it, I don’t block these things out and I have a good memory. I will remember what you told me. I know you are saying it because you think I will benefit from it but please hear me out when I tell you that I won’t.

Should I Give Up?

Now most people are going to see that title and think that I mean giving up on life and while they won’t be entirely wrong that is not the main point of this it is only a result shortly after giving up. I have zero motivation for anything this entire summer. My parents have been yelling at me to get a job and to no ones surprise I never got one again this year. My parents thought I wasn’t trying hard enough despite making me go into town handing out CVs every few days. I did hand them out to a lot of places and I applied for a lot of jobs online yet I still got nothing. The ultimate reason as to why is because my CV is terrible and I have very little experience in anything because I’ve never had a job before. So that lead to my parents yelling at me more and seeming disappointed in me. I don’t care if they’re disappointed, I’m not trying to impress them. However, all the feelings towards me not getting a job makes me feel awful. I feel like I’m not good enough. I feel unwanted by the world. I can’t escape my parents anger towards me because I live at home and will be living at home for the foreseeable future. 

I guess it also doesn’t help that it is summer and for the most part I don’t talk to anyone outside my home. On the days when I would go to town, I would try my best to stay there for a long time to avoid going home. When I would get home the first thing that was always said to me was “Any luck?” I would say no and they would scowl. I don’t know what they were expecting, that I would get offered a job right there on the spot? It’s not like I have anyone around reassuring me that there is things I’m good at and not to worry. I don’t even know if I’m good at  anything. I can’t get even get a normal everyday job what’s going to happen when I’m trying to get work placement for January. I don’t even excel at anything in relation to my course, what the hell am I supposed to go for? There is a lot of things I like but someone is going to have their two cents and say that I have no chance and I won’t keep up that I don’t even know how to do certain things. I know a lot more than everyone thinks the only module I failed was tough on a lot of people. Still is tough on my as I struggle though the repeat. I have ideas about the topic I want but I can’t think of how I’m going to translate that into what I’m being asked for. It’s bringing me down a lot and my parents don’t understand what it is about. Everyday that I’ve been working on it they ask “Have you gotten much done?” I’m still on a research stage which is vital for my marks so it just consists of me googling  some things trying to figure out if I can base my project on that topic. Also I’ve only really been doing work on my project since Thursday because my parents have finally stopped badgering me about getting a job and are letting me try to work towards getting back into college which is the only thing I have worth living for. Even that isn’t enough motivation sometimes. I love everything about college but the end of 2nd year made me feel like shit like no one really wants me back so maybe I would be doing everyone a favour by giving up. 

I have zero motivation and I don’t even think anyone would try to help motivate me if I asked. I would expect them to say something along the lines of “Well if you don’t have the motivation don’t try to force it. Maybe you’d be better off out of college?” As open as appear to be about most things there is till a lot I don’t tell people. Like how down I really feel, the fact that I’ve gone a few extra days without showering because what’s the point it’s not like I’m leaving the house and how much I really want to talk to people despite the fact that I don’t communicate well via texting or messenger. I would call them but you know people are leading their busy life’s because they actually have jobs. Besides, they probably need a break from me anyhow hence another reason why I don’t message people much even if I really want to. I guess my main problem is I haven’t been doing much so my only topics of conversations are RuPaul’s Drag Race,Love Island and that I’m very slowly getting through Game of Thrones because it takes too much focus than I can fathom to watch it. 

I was reading a blog that I wrote about a friend who will be back in college for the first time since December, and it made me a bit happier having that in mind that I get to see him again and that I’ll have someone who’s always had my back with me again. So maybe for now that’s a good enough reason to keep going and to not give up because I’ll have that support back that has been a bit lacking in the last few months. 

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.

I Just Feel So Angry, All The Time.

Like I said in my last blog, I needed a break for a while. The break has helped me with dealing with people in a calm manner. However, I am just as angry as ever. The time off did not actually make me any more calm about the situations in fact I think I have gotten angrier about everything over the last week. I feel like I’m in secondary school again. I am paranoid. I feel like everyone is just looking at me thinking that my arguments are crazy as if I have no right to be angry about everything. I’ve started doubting myself, maybe I am wrong. Maybe they’re right, I am just an idiot. I am actually a bitch who knows nothing about her own sexual orientation and I’ve just been lying to myself for years. You know what I’m actually bisexual and find more than one gender sexually attractive. Now that’s where I would be lying to myself. Even typing that line felt wrong and uncomfortable. I ruled out men a long time ago, I know I don’t like them. If people could just understand that maybe we could all get on again like we used to do and bake a cake out of sunshine and rainbows and all that crap. As for the sexual attraction, I must say that asexuality is a very broad term, so also telling me that I’m definitely not that because my definition for it is a little different to yours is also not right. I am getting really sick of have to fight for the right use the label asexual as part of my identity. I’m thinking of dropping it all together. I’m either trying to fight for the validation that it is a real thing or I’m fighting someone to prove that I actually do identify (in part, I might admit) as asexual. Yes I do admit that it’s not at the core of my identification but it’s still there, but I guess I should just start letting go of it even though it’s the only thing I was sure about when I came out 2 years ago. From now on I won’t elaborate. Why don’t we just play spin the LGBT+ spectrum see what sexual orientation you will assign me this week and make me just go with it.

I’ve been at my wit’s end the last week. I’ve been so frustrated and angry that I haven’t been doing any work for college. I’m been so tired during the day and having trouble trying to get to sleep at night. I missed all my classes on Tuesday and Thursday because I didn’t have the energy to get up on time. To be fair I was practically dead on Thursday after the college ball, which I will discuss later on in this blog. I’ve felt like I’ve been walking around in my own little bubble that everyone is avoiding to go near. I’ve felt like I’m being ignored/ I feel invisible. Going back to what I said above, I feel like I’m in secondary school. Walking around by myself, feeling like I’m in the way or intruding on other people’s lives. I feel like everyone is giving me death stares and purposely avoiding me as best they can. I know it’s really all in my head but I don’t know I just feel lost. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know what I need to be doing. Well except for the fact that I have a one minute film due on Wednesday and I have yet to film it. I feel like I should be crying or ripping my hair out but instead I’m just refusing to get out of bed until late in the day and eating one and a half meals a day. I mean I uploaded a 15 minute long rant on Facebook on Friday at around 1am discussing everything that was going on in my head. It was just a black screen so the only focus was on my voice and what I was saying. I was just lying down in bed and just spewed a load of nonsense about how I feel like a loser and an idiot and it’s mostly attributed to everyone else making me feel that way. Yes I am playing the blame game a lot recently but I was doing good there for ages. I was actually doing really good, I hate that I’ve gotten bad again. I try so hard to stay good but it’s so difficult to do when everyone is putting you down. They might think they’re being funny but there is only so much negativity you can put towards someone before the joking around becomes putting someone down. I feel like my mind has turned into a minefield. I need to bite my tongue to make sure I don’t have an outburst and yell at everyone who’s around me. I like to think I’m a nice person, I care about people. Is it so much to ask that people are the same back? Especially when they’re like nice and caring towards everyone else!!

The only time over the last few weeks where I actually felt happy was during the college ball. It wasn’t until after the meal though. I went and got a pint after the meal and sat at the side while the dancing started with most people making their way onto the dance floor. I decided I would go dancing when I finished the pint because I saw some people who I would know fairly well and would dance with at the other side of the dance floor. I downed the end of my pint, stood up and before I could start making my own way over to them, our SU Education Officer came over and took my hand and brought me over to all of the ones I was going to go over and we were all dancing away. That felt really nice. I felt like at that moment my invisibility cloak was stopped working and I was seen again. I spent most of the night then with our SU Equalities Officer and one of the committee members of the SVP soc. I had a great night from then on. They told me I looked nice, they loved my dress and I didn’t feel like an outcast I felt like I was welcomed into the group with open arms. I can’t thank them enough for that. It meant a lot to me that they let me hang out with them for the night. (I’m not crying right now, I’m just tired. I’m just tired.) Later on in the night when they went to bed, I went outside for a cigarette. I went over and sat with our SU Communications Officer and our former SU  President and former SU Welfare Officer. I had a nice time talking with them for a bit. I said that I wanted to go over to some of the people who were at the ball from USI but I was too scared. Mostly the USI President and I was scared that she wouldn’t remember me. Our former Welfare Officer, who works at USI as the current Southern Region Officer and hopefully soon to be the USI Welfare elect, told me I should go over to her and I had nothing to be scared of and she would talk to me anyway. So when I went back inside I walked over to her and she was smiling and said hi. I was like “Hi, do you remember me I was at Pink Training?” She said she did and then she was saying how she wasn’t wearing her band from that, saying that her sister had borrowed it or something. I showed her my rainbow coil bracelet and she thought it was really cool and asked me where I got it. Then she asked me if I was going to USI Congress and I said I wasn’t because I had college so she showed me the designs she had for the stickers that were being given in the Congress packs and I was like “Oh my god, they’re unreal. I want one”. Then when our former SU Welfare Officer came over, the USI President was like “Make sure she gets some of the unicorn stickers.” I got so excited, she was making sure I was getting them even though I wasn’t going to be there. We also both came to the realization, although it seemed to fascinate her a little bit more, that 10 years ago she was the same age as I was now. Even though I hadn’t really had many conversations with the USI crowd of people much before, especially without my friend there to introduce me to them because she’d know them better, I also felt very included and it seemed like they liked talking to me. They easily could have ignored me after a while of talking to me but no from the moment I sat down I talked to them for like the next hour and even missed the bus home so I could stay hanging out with them a bit longer. It was just a whole lot of wonderful. Just for that night. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I think me having such a shit time over the past couple of weeks made me appreciate every part of that night even more than I would have otherwise.

Sometimes I Need a Break!

Usually when it comes to any time off from college I get sad because I will miss all my friends and having something to do everyday. This time around I couldn’t be more thankful to have some time off not only from college but from people as well. Since I have social anxiety, I tend to use a lot of my energy to try to stay calm and to talk normally in social situations. Hence why I’ve been so tired lately, because these social interactions over the last 2-3 weeks have gotten a lot more strenuous and difficult to deal with. I have been made feel like an idiot, like I’m invisible and like my opinion is not valid on any subject matter including myself. Like it’s something serious when someone shuts down how you identify personally because they think your something else and refuse to believe that you’re being honest.

I got told during this week that I’m not actually a lesbian, I’m apparently bisexual. I’ve been told to just let it go and not think about it but I can’t. It isn’t that simple. I have questioned my sexuality for about 6 years and I’ve been at the conclusion that I’m definitely a lesbian for about the last year really. I have thought I was bisexual at different stages but I have realised that if I labelled myself as that I would just be lying because while I can appreciate a good-looking guy who could be boyfriend material to someone, I could never see myself kissing, let alone dating a guy. The person who told me I was bisexual used a joke I made about wanting to get with a guy because I liked the smell of his deodorant. It was a joke for a reason and I know that person has a hard time understanding any jokes I make especially, she also has other evidence about “the guys I fancy” that she refuses to tell me. It’s  been in my mind so much that last night I had a dream where I had a one night stand with a guy and got pregnant and had a baby. Eventually deciding to get into a relationship with the father after having to choose between him and a woman who I had also been attracted to. It seemed like a bunch of random people in my dream and all. I’ve never wanted a child but in the dream it started off focusing on my relationship with a guy but about half through began to focus on my pursuit as a mother. This dream baby obviously was invincible because I left it in alone for 3 days until I actually started to take responsibility for it. I gave the baby milk then realised that where the baby had been left had affected the skin on their face so I used like baby lotion to try to make that better. Then the next thing I had to do was get a lift to the shop and buy nappies. I got a lift from a friend and while the baby was in a car seat for the entirety of the dream (I refused to take it out for some reason, probably for fear that I would drop it). Even in the car though I held onto the car seat so I could keep looking at the baby and have their hand wrapped around my finger. I felt very maternal and it’s something I’ve never experienced before. I was also sitting in the back of the car and had to remind my friend who was driving that I was holding a child and not to go speeding or brake quickly in the event that the baby would get hurt. Even after this dream, I still don’t  want a child and I still am in no way looking for a relationship with a man. More than anything the dream scared me. I’m good at acting like an adult when I have to and putting on a serious front but not to that extent. I mean I went with the father because I wanted help with the child not because I actually loved him. Dream me was in love with some woman with long blonde hair and possibly had glasses, I don’t know she appeared in the dream very briefly. I woke up and I felt kind of anxious but I also really wanted to talk to someone about my dream but like most people hate hearing about dreams. That’s why I wrote it in this blog instead of calling someone who’s probably busy. Also in case you’re wondering, the baby was a girl and she had no name.

To go back to the point of this blog, I have been extremely frustrated for the last few weeks. Anything I say in anger as been taken too seriously and people have thought of me as being completely inconsiderate and ignorant whereas I sometimes have to point out a bad thing from the situation before I can move on whether this bad thing actually affects me or not. Another reason I have been frustrated is because anything I’ve said has been ignored or laughed at in a group situation. Nothing I said was taken seriously and it made me feel like everything I was saying was wrong and that it would just be more beneficial to everyone if I just stayed quiet and out of the way. I got told by the same girl who told me I wasn’t a lesbian, that I was mean to her lately. Anyone who knows me knows that I am never mean to people because God knows I’ve been bullied enough and laughed at that I wouldn’t want anyone to feel like the piece of shit that I have always felt that I am. What reason would I have to be mean to someone, I hadn’t even talked to her that much that week because in the evenings instead of being down in the kitchen like normal and hanging out with people in my student accommodation, I was up in my room trying to sleep or just relaxing because I was so tired from all the energy I had been used while at college. I’ve nearly cried so many times over the past few weeks just out of frustration of not being listened to and treated like I’m just some idiot that knows nothing. I decided that for my week off, I’m going to isolate myself as much as I can because that’s what I do when I feel ignored or invisible, I take it upon myself to make that a reality. People might forget that I exist would be a good thing for them, give them one less thing to worry about. I think people are finding it harder and harder to deal with my mood swings and irrational behavior recently. I can’t help the way I feel about certain things. I am tired of being thought of as an idiot. I think about anything that people say to me a lot and I can’t help but overthink it. I have insecurities that I’ve developed over the years just by one very small comment that has been made to me. When I was about 5 or 6 years old I was cycling my bike in my estate and a girl who was younger than me called me big ears and Dumbo and since then I’ve always thought that my ears were too big and one of the many reason why I will never cut my hair really short. When I was about 11 or 12 I think someone looked at my eyelashes and said “Oh, you have light brown eyelashes, interesting.” They genuinely just found it interesting because it was different to theirs but I took it as “Oh your eyelashes are different to the norm you are some kind of weird looking alien.” Therefore some morning when I go to college and I think my eyelashes look too light coloured I put on mascara so I can change them to black and not have to worry about someone saying anything about them. If that isn’t proof of how much things can affect me than I don’t know what is. I don’t think anyone ever understands how much even the smallest comment can affect and how sometimes things that might sound worse won’t affect me at all.

I went out Thursday night and put up a snapchat when I went home saying that I had a shit night and I didn’t want anyone from college to contact me on the week off. I should have prefaced this saying that it was my own fault that I had a shit night because I drank too much of the wrong drink and I could hardly see straight. Also I just felt really out of place from the moment we stepped into the nightclub. I really should have stayed at home and not gone out but I had already bought my ticket so I didn’t want to stay in because of that. I was asked to help with one of my friends FYP’s during the week off, just to go in for a few minutes to film a quick thing. I have no problem doing it whatsoever. I will go crazy at being at home for a week, but I would also go crazy being at college for a week but being there for a day will be grand. However, again the girl who said I wasn’t a lesbian, and that I was being mean, told me that “There is already like 5 of us doing it, it would be a waste of your time coming in to do it.” WELL NOBODY FUCKING ASKED FOR YOUR OPINION BITCH!!!!  IS IT YOUR FUCKING FYP???NO, I DIDN’T FUCKING THINK SO!!!!!! While I say I need a break from people in general at the moment, like social interactions and stuff, I really just need a break from that one person because she is wrecking my head. If I wanted someone to tell me that everything I do, say, think, and believe is wrong, I would have asked for her opinion but I didn’t she just feels the need to let me know that I’m wrong on a constant basis. Thanks girl, appreciate it so much!! (*SARCASM*)

 

I Fucked Up!

Remember in my last post that I survived yet another year of life, yeah I kind of went a bit out of control last night and nearly wanted to leave it at that and cut my life short. Not really though. I again was just talking some big talk because I didn’t want to actually kill myself last night I just wanted my body to feel the pain that has been in my mind for the last few weeks but especially the past week.

For the most part, I gave myself to high of expectations for my birthday celebrations.  Last Thursday, there was plans to have an actual night out especially for my birthday, which was Sunday. It ended up with no one going out last Thursday which made me kind of depressed in a way because I really wanted to go out and it was my motivation to get through the week. To be fair there was someone else who wanted to go out and I gladly would have gone out with just them but I guess just two people going on a night out isn’t a thing it only works with groups. I stayed in and played trivial pursuit with my housemates and two people from my class.  We drank, we laughed, we all lost to one of my housemates. It was a fun night, I had just been so excited to go out and celebrate my birthday. It’s not something I ever really celebrate but this year I felt like I had people in my life that would be willing to go out and celebrate the fact that I’m alive. Throughout the night I got slowly more depressed. I was out of it most of the night. I wasn’t really paying attention to anything, except drinking. I was just thinking and making everything a lot worse in my head. One of my roommates noticed that I was being quieter than normal. I do think that it is some skill to notice when I’m being extra quiet because I’m always fairly quiet. She told me that her and my other housemate had set up a group chat to organise a night out for my birthday and I cried. I think I might have mentioned this is the last blog so I won’t go on about it too much. From then on I got really excited about the following Thursday, yesterday, to see what it would be like to have a night out that was all about me. I had parties as a child but I felt like it my friends at the time had to go to it or only went to it because the day might be fun, not focused on me at all really.

The same thing happened again last night. Nothing really happened to go out for my birthday. At least I did get to go out with people I’m friends with and really like to go out with and I tried to make the most of it but I still felt disappointed with the night. Again, this was no one’s fault except my own. I shouldn’t have had such high expectations. I was overthinking it way too much and getting myself excited for something I knew deep down was never going to go to plan. You think I would have learned by now to keep my expectations low but I guess it’s something I need to try and work harder at. To be fair, I can appreciate the good parts of the night. Like while the places we went to weren’t very busy, there was some good songs we danced to and I have some good memories from the night.

My mental breakdown began when we left Fabrik to go to Hennesseys and I was given the task to walk with two of my friends who were much drunker than I was. My other two friends drove there in one of the girls cars. While it wasn’t difficult or anything, and neither are bad drunks, I just felt stressed because what if something happened. If anything happened to either of them I would have felt guilty. I let one of them go ahead of us because I knew that he would be fine so long as he kept going in the right direction which he was. I talked to my other friend because I felt like that would be the best way to keep her mind from wandering and thinking about stopping or going somewhere else. Either way we all made it there. We each got a shot of sambuca when we got into the bar and god knows I needed that. Then when the two friends who drove arrived in I left them for a few minutes to find some of the friends from my class that I knew were out to so I went outside to the smoking area to say hi to them. I went back to where the friends I went out with were and they were nowhere to be seen. I walked around the pub three times and gave up. I thought that they left me. So in an effort to block out the feeling that they had left me behind and gone home, I bought two drinks and planned to down them to try and get myself drunk enough to forget. It’s not even though I was alone all that long but a minute in real time is the equivalent to like a half an hour in drunk time. After I was with my friends from my class for a while, I saw the friends I had gone out with appear. I went over to them with my two drinks still pretty much full. I told them I thought that they had left me and they were like “No, we were just in the bathroom because one of the girls were getting sick.” It never occurred to me that they would have been in the bathroom. I’m such an idiot. Then I proceeded to yell out all the messed up stuff I had planned to do in that short time that they had left me. “I’m was going to drink as much as I could and then go home and cut my arms a lot.” My friends were like “WHAT??!” Then one of the girls, the one I had walked to from Fabrik to Hennesseys with, sat down next to me and talked to me about what was going on.  It did calm me down a bit but in the back of my mind I couldn’t get rid of the thought of cutting. I almost did it last Thursday when I didn’t go out for my birthday.

We went to get food after that before we went home and while we were sitting waiting for it I got given out to by one of the girls. She said “Right well what’s ever going on with you, you have to stop putting all the blame on Jodi. It’s not like it’s her fault.” It wasn’t her fault and I didn’t think that I had been putting the blame on her. I prefaced anything I said to her with “This is my own fault, I had too high expectations.” I was only telling her what I had been thinking not giving out to her because her was somehow her fault which it wasn’t. Granted yes, anytime we had a fight before on a night out, I was giving out to her because of problems I had made in my own head. Again, not her fault but those times I had yelled at her and made it seem like she had caused it. I didn’t want that to happen again. So last night I made sure that I didn’t act like that. I didn’t want her to think I was putting blame on her because it’s just unnecessary and completely untrue that any of my problems are her fault. She did seem to be a bit upset but that was more so because of the extreme feelings of awful that I was feeling. I kept saying to her not to get upset about it because like there was no reason to. I need to try and keep my mouth shut on night on. They might have been having a fairly good night and I feel like I just ruined it. I’m really sorry about that. She told me I don’t need to say sorry about it but I feel bad about it. Jodi came up to my apartment for a fag before going off to bed and then my housemate and another friend from my class came in just before she left. I say goodbye to her and that I’d see her Monday. Then my friend from my class left and then my roommate went to bed. I then went and got a knife that I had bought at the start of the year and slashed my arm so badly. Usually, as if this is a common occurance, when I used to cut I had a limit. I would stop once I did it about three or four times provided that there was at least two adequate cuts made. This time I just kept going and I have 16 cuts covering most of my arm and about 7 of them bled. I know it’s stupid and I shouldn’t have done it. I knew while I was doing it. I knew when I was planning. I knew when I looked at it and couldn’t and can’t stop looking at it since I’ve done it.I have to deal with the constant stinging and pain that these scars are currently causing me. I don’t know if it’s because I can’t remember the feeling or because it’s been so long since I’ve done it but these scars really hurt like a lot. I now have to actively wear long sleeves and make sure no one of any authority sees them or I could get sent to somewhere I don’t want to go.  I don’t need to talk to some professional. I don’t even need to really talk about all my problems to people. Sometimes I just want to talk to someone. Anyone. When I can’t I get frustrated. Some of the things this week that made me incredibly stressed and upset was people talking over me, immediately shutting down my ideas, and just making me feel small. I said very little and everything seemed to be wrong even though I knew I was right and they eventually realised that I was write but that didn’t stop them from shutting me down.

I do realise that I have been really selfish to do all of this. My birthday was by no means awful or even bad. It was probably one of the best I ever had. Going out on Sunday night, the actual day of my birthday, for my 4th year friends birthday celebrations because it was his birthday too helped that a bit. I mean they made sure I was included in well wishes and wanted me to feel like I was being celebrated too. I got given birthday presents that mean so much to me that I can’t even describe what I feel when I look at them. They make me feel loved. My issue this time wasn’t completely a feeling of being unloved or not cared for like it was pretty obvious this week that I’m loved. It was still part of it because I always have that doubt and it will never go away. It really was a lot of problems I made in my own. I have actually learned how to deal with my mental health issues it’s just every now and again I forget how to deal with it or else I just need a break from trying to keep it together all the time.  I hadn’t cut myself since the 11th September. That was almost 5 months where I was free of self harm. I had the desire to do it for the last week and a half but other than that I had been totally fine. Even when I found out I failed an exam I knew that if I cut myself it wouldn’t make matters better. It wouldn’t change anything. I didn’t give it a second thought, I knew self harm was not an option. It was something I was done with, or so I thought. I don’t have a desire to do it again. In saying that though I need to keep saying to myself “I do not want to cut again” until these scars heal and fade. Well that’s if they do fade. I need to remind myself of how bad it is to do and how it solves nothing. There is always substitutes for self harm. I could write a blog instead. I could try and busy my mind with something like a video game so I’m not thinking about what is wrong with me.

I am more than just thankful of the support that I do have. I have friends who really care about me and they worry about me. They were concerned when I had done this to myself and to be honest I was concern for myself. I was worried I would do something worse to myself. I need to listen to the advice of my friend Dexter, who is the best friend I could ever ask for and I miss that I don’t get to seem him everyday like I used to. He’s also skilled at noticing when there is something wrong with me when I’m being quieter than usual. He said to me earlier when he called me that I need to “go be a college student. Take care of myself and forget about caring other people for a while.” He’s right, he’s so right. I feel like I haven’t felt like a college student since first semester of 1st year. Since I had developed so many friendships going into second semester of 1st year, I let everything to do with college go out of my mind and I focused so much on caring about my friends. Yes, I still submitted all my work and made it this far,but I’d say most of my brain power over the last year has been used to care and be concerned about my friends. I wasn’t actively doing things to help my friends but I was always worried about them constantly. I think I need to take a break and switch that part of my brain off for a while. Ok well not switch it off but let’s pretend like it’s a dimmer switch and it’s currently at 100% so  I need to turn it down to about 40% for a little while. I need to focus on my college work this semester and bring up my GPA because it took quite a hit after failing an exam. Then also, I obviously need to try and cut myself some slack and allow myself to make some mistakes and also to try different opportunities because I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing with my life. I don’t really know what I’m trying to achieve with the course I’m doing. I honestly picked it because it sounded fun. I do have an interest in media as well but it just looked fun to do. I need to really try and find what I’m good at and try and work that into as much of my college work as I can in order to make it a bit easier for myself.

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!!