Wishing On A Star

Tonight was our leavers dinner. Unfortunately, for me and my best friend, that meant a night full of tears. A night full of everything that I was determined for it not to be. Teachers got involved, and it was a pretty horrific night for us both. I think she’s angry, I think she hates me, but she DID give me permission to say, and I mustn’t forget that. She asked me to do it.

I said I was going to go and get drunk. After she left, I said I was going to the club. I didn’t. I had one drink in a pub, and I went home. I’m not up for it. I just want to know she’s okay. I want to know she made it home okay. I want her to know that I care about her, and that I love her to the moon and back, no matter what.

I can’t do that now though. It’s killing me, but I can’t do that.

On top of it all, I’ve no idea if my left contact lens is still in or if I cried it out somewhere. I’ve scratched all my eye up trying to get at it, but I can’t, so I must have lost it.

On the way home, I looked for a star to wish upon, but I couldn’t find one. I’m going to wish upon my heart instead.

Now, I’m going to try my very hardest to sleep. I’m in physical and emotional pain for two very different reasons, but I just hope that she finds it in her heart to forgive me. Because she means so much, too much, probably.





I’m struggling with words today, but it’s all spinning.

Results. A Levels. Tears. Laughter. Nerves. Panic. Leadership. Presentations. Packing. DofE. Tour. Love. Friendship. Worry. Eating. Food. Hope. Fear. Smiles. Flute. Teachers. School. Leavers. Alcohol. Future. Gap years.

My presentation went well though. I was pretty shaky, and two extra staff members turned up to watch, but I made it to the end, and aside from the first question, I’m pretty happy with how I answered them.

I’m happy. I’m so so tired, but today, I’m really happy. The next few weeks are going to be fantastic, I’ve just got to jump into the pool of opportunity with my head held high and a smile on my face.

It’s only fourty eight days until results day.

Living. Laughing. Loving.



I’ve always been one to get nervous. I thought it was something that I’d just about cracked, but clearly not. It’s nine minutes until I give a presentation to the chair of governors, the head teacher, and the teacher in charge of leadership academy. I’m bricking it.

I’m shaking, I’ve got a headache, and I feel sick. I’m not quite sure what to do with myself. In my panic, I left my script upstairs, so I can’t even practice.

Deep breaths. It’s going to be okay.

My little OCD flips are kicking in, too. Maybe she’s right. Maybe it’s a bit weird.

Anyway, deep breaths. One. Two. Three.

See you all on the other side!

Living. Laughing. Loving.



So on Friday I officially finished my A Levels. I’d like to say that I’m the last in my school to finish, but there are about ten unfortunate souls with a further maths exam today. But for me, that’s it, I’m officially FREE until late September.

But I’m not sure how I feel about that.

Firstly, it seems that I’ve forgotten how to stop. Whilst most teenagers are spending their days lounging around the house complaining of boredom, I’ve got a jam packed few weeks. And even the last few days when I didn’t need to be busy, I’ve just made myself busy!

Friday afternoon I had several meetings, a rainbow event, and a concert, Saturday I was bag packing, but woke up at six thirty so did some cleaning before I went out. Saturday night I went out with friends, and yesterday I spent most of the day cleaning, despite actually being really quite ill (you don’t need all the gory details!). I’ve also got plans for the next few days before I head off to DofE and music tour.

If one more person tells me to slow down, I’m going to go insane. I keep myself busy for a few reasons, and just because I haven’t told you what they are, if doesn’t mean that you should interrupt me. Maybe you’re right, maybe the months of endless revision means that I’ve forgotten how to stop. Maybe I do feel a little guilty when I sit and do nothing, but have you thought about it from the other prospective? What if doing things stops me from thinking? By keeping myself busy, I don’t allow myself the time to worry. I don’t allow myself to worry about university, what my best friend has been eating, if I’ll get the grades, and how I’m going to climb those hills on DofE. You’re right again, I’m probably not allowing myself enough time to stop and breathe, but that’s what I’m choosing right now, so don’t stop me. I’m choosing it because I don’t want the hassle of constant arguments and battles in my brain. I want to enjoy my summer, not spend it panicing. And if that is to the detriment of my physical health, then so be it.

Living. Laughing. Loving.


The Last One

It’s been a bit quiet over here on treasurethememory for a while, and that’s because I’ve had to face the trauma of A Levels. Most days, I’ve been revising from 7.30am until 10.30pm, and blogging hasn’t even crossed my mind. Tonight however, I’ve stopped in order to get a good nights rest. Tomorrow is my last and most dreaded exam, biology.

I’ve been worried about biology for a long time, because my teachers picked up in January that I was underachieving, and I’ve really struggled this year. I need to get the grades for University, and right now, it’s a bit touch and go if that will happen. I really hope so.

I’m going to go into that exam tomorrow, and I’m going to have a positive attitude. I’m going to bring down the world, and I’m going to prove all those who have doubted me wrong. I’m going to fight the panic and the stress, slap a smile onto my face, and it’s going to go well. I’m going to get my A, and I’m going to go to university.

And most of all, I’m going to remember that at 11am tomorrow my three months of work free time begins. I cannot express how excited that makes me, I have so many plans. I’ve dreamt of the summer for months, and now it’s in touching distance. All I’ve got to do is jump this one last hurdle as high as I can.

Living. Laughing. Loving.


Gone With The Windfall

So, I’ve just been told that I’ve inherited £1,000,000. What am I going to do with it? Of course, that hasn’t ACTUALLY happened (I wish!), but I’m going to tell you exactly what I’d do with it anyway. Of course, not all of these are entirely realistic, but since it’s an unrealistic situation anyway, I may as well reveal all my dreams.

First of all, I’d give some to charity.
£1000 to my Rainbow Unit because they’re a fantastic unit that I’ve been helping at for four years, and I was a Rainbow there too.
£1000 to my Guide Unit that I’ve been attending, and now leading at since I was ten.
£1000 to my Guiding County in the hope that they’d use it to help those in need, and bring the same amazing opportunities that I’ve had to others.
£1000 to ATE Superweeks, so they can make more children learn and grow in confidence, just like I did as a kid.

Then, I’d go and spend a month on a remote island to contemplate and think. I’d figure out my plans, and my life. Perhaps I’d take someone with me to get me through the tough times and keep me sane, or maybe I’d go it alone. I’m not sure. Can you put a price on that? £5000?

I’d buy myself a house to ensure that I had a stable future. £300,000.

I’d give my parents some money towards building themselves a house. £200,000.

I’d pay for a top two week family skiing holiday over christmas, and for my parents to spend some time in the sun. About £20,000?

I’d take my best friend travelling. We would cross a tonne off our bucket lists, and visit India, Australia, the amazon, and see the northern lights. We’d stay up late and laugh the night away. We’d trek through the rainforest and go deep sea diving. We’d sit on a beach and watch the sunset, and camp on a mountain to watch the sunrise. We’d be happy, we’d have fun. Another £10,000?

I’d somehow subscribe to a lifetime supply of creme eggs. One creme egg a week for the next seventy years. That’s about £11,000.

Of course, I’d save some money to pay for travel to go and see my best friend once every couple of months during her six year uni course. £11,000 again.

I’d build a secret room deep underground, that only I knew about. When things got hard, I could escape there and be completely alone. I could be myself. I could cry, I could laugh, and I could contemplate, and nobody would need to know.
I’m not sure you can price that. £15,000?

I’d build a glass house in the hills in Switzerland so that one by one, I could take the people most special to me to share a night under the stars. I’m not naming who I’d take first, but no prizes for guessing. £14,000. And of course £10,000 for flights and maintenance. Wouldn’t want to be disorganised, would we?

The remaining £400,000, I’m not sure what I’d do with it. For now, I’ll save it and invest it. Maybe one day I’ll come back to this post and figure out all my other weird and wonderful dreamworld ideas.

It’s been a while, but once again, this was a response to a daily prompt.

Living. Laughing. Loving.


The need to be clean.

I’ve always been a little bit funny about things being clean. When I was younger, we’d visit friends and I wouldn’t drink out of the glasses at their house. I’ve always obsessively checked cutlery both at home and when out to ensure that it’s clean. I’ve always enjoyed cleaning, I love the smell of bleach, and for years if I was at home I’d ask mum if I could put the toilet duck in the loo, because it made me feel good. I love that clean feeling when you first step out of the shower.

None of this was ever a problem until I started carrying hand gel around. I don’t know why I started carrying it around, I just did. I started using it more and more, my friends began to take the mic out of me. It still was never really that bad. And then my obsession with clean started to interfere with my daily life.

I press a button in a lift, I hand gel. I go to the toilet, I wash my hands, I hand gel. I’m stressed, I hand gel.

I was in the swimming pool a few days ago, something that I’ve done every week for about six months now. It wasn’t really until this week that I actually began to think about all the other people that had been in the water, and what was floating about in there. I didn’t enjoy my swim, I spent the whole half an hour fighting the urge to get out and run.

At the weekend, it was a friend’s birthday. That of course meant cake. Homemade cake. There’s something about butter iced cakes that makes me feel iffy. I managed to stomach the cake, but not without the feeling of sickness as I slowly pushed the pieces into my mouth and forced myself to swallow.

I still don’t think I’m OCD, really. I think it’s completely a stress coping mechanism, and it’s my way of keeping order when everything around me seems so crazy. It all spins and swirls, but there are just some things that I like to keep straight. I like it this way.

Living. Laughing. Loving.



Panic. It’s back again. I’m desperately trying to take my best mates advice and believe in myself. But it’s so so hard.

I’ve got an exam this afternoon. I’ve been awake for an hour and a half, I’ve done a bit of work, but now I’m back in bed.

Why? I’m dizzy. I know I’m only dizzy because I’m letting the panic swallow me up. My heart rate has increased, my ventilation rate has increased, and I’m shaking. That’s why I feel dizzy.

I’m trying to be okay, I really really am. I’m trying to be positive, and I’m trying to remember the goal I set of just beating my clever but lazy friend, but it’s so difficult. The panic is taking over me. At the back of my mind is that niggling thought that the weight of my life is resting on these exams, and slowly, the blackness is taking me.

I need someone to believe in me. I want someone to help me to believe in myself. But I know that somehow, I’ll survive, because if it’s easy, it’s not worth living for.

Living. Laughing. Loving.


Four Hundred and Fifty Miles

Currently, I live ten miles away from my best friend. 10 miles is still a long way in that I couldn’t run it, but it’s okay. It’s okay because I see her every day. Each morning, I go into school and she is there. On Saturday’s, we run together. I remember at the start of this year, and I was gutted that I wouldn’t have classes with her anymore. That’s been okay though, because we’re still in the same building every day. We bump into each other, we make plans, we chat. In fact, it’s probably been better for me. My concentration levels are higher, and I’m a lot more confident in class now. If there is ever a crisis I know that I can just jump into my car, drive ten miles down the road, and she’s there. We can go for a coffee, chat, and laugh the afternoon away. It’s only going to cost me £4 in petrol.

But what about when ten miles suddenly becomes four hundred and fifty miles? All being well, in September, we’ll both be going to University at opposite ends of the country.

That’s a little scary.

I’m not going to use this as an opportunity to ramble on for hours about how fantastic she is, or how much I do worry or am going to worry (that’s a post for another day!) but instead take time to try and accept what’s going to happen. Because that girl has changed me, and I’m genuinely going to struggle without her. I’m not going to be able to call her at any time of day, to chat all night long, to rush out for a last minute coffee, to go for a Thursday morning swim. I’m not going to be having flute lessons, and she is certainly not going to be able to pick me up from them when they end badly!

Four hundred and fifty miles is a long trip, and an expensive one, too. Our holidays aren’t at the same time. We’re not going to see each other. I know that I could never forget about her, but what if she forgets about me? What if she moves on with life, and suddenly, I’m insignificant? I’m telling myself over and over that it’s not true, but how can I ever be sure? I thought I was sure, but once more, I have my doubts.

My brain is fighting with itself. I’m flipping between two sides of the coin. Is going to university going to be positive, or negative? I have my theories, but until someone asks, I’m keeping them to myself. Four hundred and fifty miles. I can’t even imagine that distance. And I sure can’t imagine that distance if I or she is ever in trouble, or a time of need. When I typed it into google maps, and saw the number, I shed a tear. Yes, I cry at everything. But what you need to understand is that I have three types of tears, and this was most definitely number two of three. Heartache. Shoot whatever names at me you like, but love and friendship go hand in hand. And the love you share in friendship is one that words cannot describe. And the feeling of breaking that is another which fits into that category.

But this is all silly really. When I wrote this post a few days ago, that’s how I really felt. Now though, it’s different. My emotions right now are often entirely based on my feelings of self-worth on that particular day. Today, I saw her, and she made me feel amazing. It’s going to be okay, because wherever you go in the world, you’re never more than a day away. I believe that she loves me enough to not abandon me. Deep down, I’m sure that somehow, we’ll manage, because this is the most special friendship that I think I will ever have.

So, I’m going to go into that chemistry exam tomorrow afternoon, and I’m going to ace it. Because I AM going to go to university, and I AM going to have a fabulous time. We ARE going to keep in touch, and together, we’ll conquer the world.

Living. Laughing. Loving.