It’s 21:53. I’m home alone…and my mind is loud. My mind is screaming at me and my thoughts need out.
First off, I’m sorry for being shit. I haven’t blogged or looked at any blogs in nearly a month. I’ve been busy. I’ve been depressed and I’m not sure if I even feel like a real person anymore.
There are moments and sometimes even days of happiness; when I go up to Glasgow to see my boyfriend, when I see my friends for lunch or coffee and a catch up, when I see my family and have some good home-cooked food…but in between all of that, I feel like nothing.
I never expected my course to be easy. I like a challenge and I’ve tried to tackle this one head on. I’m doing all the reading and the feedback I’ve received for my practise assignments has been promising. From a social standpoint too, life at uni is great. I’ve made some great friends, one of whom is coming over for Christmas.
But I don’t want to be at uni anymore. I feel like it’s consuming who I am as a person. Everything that I enjoyed doing – everything that made me me – has taken a back burner. I barely have time to read and when I do, I’m too exhausted to read more than ten pages at a time it seems. I only have time to jot down the odd poem here and there; the short story collection I wanted to work on has come to nothing. I don’t have time to blog on a regular basis and while it’s not the end of the world, I miss the community I became a part of over the course of a year and a half. I feel isolated from everything that I love doing. I don’t feel like me anymore and it scares me.
I’m worried about money as well. Although I only did part time hours at the hotel, I had a monthly income that I could rely on. I could pay my rent and still have enough left over for other things and suddenly not having that anymore has left me feeling financially insecure. I’ve been sticking to a budget these past three months, but I’ve been trying to work out the figures for my second semester and I’m not entirely sure how I’m going to manage. I tried finding a part time job but the places that I applied to didn’t get back to me and a lot of places that I wanted to work in offered too many hours or weren’t flexible enough. I figured I’d leave it until maybe my second or third semester but now I’m worrying about not finding work when I actually really need it.
I’m feeling anxious too and I’m not even 100% sure why. I think it’s an accumulation of everything weighing on my mind, but I find myself waking up early in the morning, my heart pounding as all my irrational worries begin to wake up as well. I’m anxious about the things I’ve previously mentioned, but I’m anxious about a lot of other stuff too and the thing that makes me so angry with myself is that most of the stuff I’m anxious about aren’t even real things. They’re things my mind imagines happening. I get anxious at the thought of my boyfriend leaving me because he’ll get sick of me. I get anxious at the thought of becoming homeless because I can’t afford to cover the expenses of my studies. I get anxious at the thought of leaving my course (even though I want to) and my family being ashamed and disappointed in me. I get anxious at the thought of those I love and care for getting sick or getting hurt and being unable to help them or do anything about it. I get anxious at the thought of 2018. I get anxious at the thought of being in my mid twenties and still not being 100% sure of what I want to do in terms of a career despite doing a fucking MA.
I was relatively happy before uni and now I’m not. I know it sounds pathetic and like I’m ungrateful because not everyone gets the opportunity to do this. It’s my own fault. I applied for this and I’ve got no one to blame but myself.