Ache

Hey, you! Best friend! I love you, stupid!

Don’t forget that okay?! You mean lots to me and I miss you every single day. Last year, I used to get upset. I was afraid, I guess, that something would happen and you wouldn’t be there any more. Of course, that wasn’t true. You’re always here to stand beside me and to giggle with the morning after a night out (yep, that’s got to be the best bit!).

This year has been different. I’ve been a lot more confident, in everything. I think that a lot of that has stemmed from the confidence in our friendship. I know you’re here, and that’s it. I know that when I see you again nothing will change, we will laugh, I will cry, we will worry, we’ll dance, and everyone will ask if we are a couple (lols, just no!). When I said goodbye to you this weekend, I knew it probably wouldn’t be six months until I saw you again. Of course I was sad, but not sad enough to hurt me. We hugged, we promised to Skype, and I skipped off.

Now though, I’m absolutely aching for you. I feel as though I miss you with every bone in my body, and that’s something that I haven’t felt so far in second year. It’s a little like last year, but there’s something that I can’t quite pinpoint that isn’t the same. I’m not hurting. I know you’ll be back, and I know when I inebetably need you on results day you’ll be there (hell, my next step is to call you ‘just for a chat’ – I’d love to be spontaneously confident enough to do that, and I’d love it even more the day you called me out of nowhere!). It’s not helping though, it’s not making the aching feeling in my chest go away. It’s like I’ve realised all over again exactly how much you mean to me and I just want to share that with you. I don’t want you to be hundreds of miles away, because I’m coming down from our amazing weekend and reality and a lack of laughter is slowly hitting me, and it’s hitting me hard! I’m not hurting, and I’m definitely not afraid. I’m simply aching.

Perhaps I’m finally learning the true definition of ‘I miss you’. What do you think?

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Rock Bottom

I’ve hit rock bottom. It’s strange, and it’s scary, and it’s a place that I’ve not been for months and months. I don’t like it, I don’t like it one bit.

I’ve been confident and happy since I came back to university. I’ve tried and I’ve worked and started every day with a positive attitude, and it has gone superbly. I cannot believe the change within myself, and I love being so happy and carefree. It’s been beautiful.

Last week, I started exams. Exams have always been a rocky subject for me. They’ve always been the thing that has ground me down and broken me into tiny pieces, crushed me so that I am no longer able to think straight, reason straight, or even eat straight. Balls of stress build in my stomach and take over me, and every second of every day is ten times harder when fighting back tears and forcing myself to eat when I feel the constant queasy sensation of nerves for weeks and weeks upon end. Spending time with other people is simply not an option, and I find myself slipping into a dark abyss, screaming and struggling for someone to rescue me.

But not this time. I’ve done very well so far. The positivity has reigned, and I’ve made it through with hunger pangs, heathly snacks, regular meals, lots of sleep, evenings with my flat mates and revision. I took my first two exams, the second of which I was extremely confident for. I’ve never gone into an exam feeling confident, or gone into an exam with no nerves at all. I was surprised, so surprised. I was struggling with tiredness before I got there, but I was confident and a day in bed didn’t seem to matter, like it would have ripped me into guilt before. It was weird.

The exam didn’t go so well, and I left in tears, my confidence crushed. That was Thursday, and I’ve still got the hardest two exams ahead of me. I feel defeated, and I’m not sure what to do. I’ve tried to carry on, but eating is getting harder, and whilst I enjoy time with my flat mates, the pit of nervous guilt I feel later has been haunting me. I’m not sleeping well, at all, and slowly but surely the familiar ache of the exam season has returned.

This evening, I hit rock bottom. I feel like I’ve fallen to the bottom of the pit. I can’t see a way out, and I know that if I took the two exams I have this week right now, I’d fail them. That’s not just the pessimist in me, that’s the whole and honest truth. And I’m terrified, because academically, I’ve never failed. My academics have been something I’ve been able to rely on, results, whilst terrifying, a strange familiarity in my often crazy life.

Now, I’m not so sure, and for the last few hours at least, I’ve not been coping. I’m not sure how to change that, and I know I won’t wake up tomorrow being the confident one again. The pit is back, the fear is back, the guilt is back, and I have no motivation. I can’t make myself work, because it’s then that I remind myself of just how little I know. I’m very very afraid, and I wish there was someone who could help me.

I’ve realised that I’m very alone. In my waves of confidence, I’ve forgotten how to speak out to those who mean the most to me. I need to talk to my best friend, and I thought I had tried but I’m not sure that I have. Maybe I wasn’t clear enough, maybe she too was fooled by my recent waves of confidence and thinks this is just a wobble. Maybe she’s just busy.

I don’t know. I don’t know how to feel about this. Life isn’t as easy when your confidence is gone, and I don’t like being rock bottom.

Five days and two exams to go.

Help me, I’m terrified.

Regrounding Myself

I’m one of those people who finds social situations difficult sometimes. Equally, I’m someone who loves to be busy, and never to miss out. And of course, that leads to a girl who is always sleepy. I’m trained into early nights, deep sleeping, and naps. I can sleep through almost anything. I self regulate really well. I get nine hours of sleep per night, and I’m generally really good at making sure I keep on top of it, because I know that if I don’t, I simply won’t cope, and then I won’t achieve anything.

There’s some times though that it doesn’t quite work that way, and the result usually goes one of two ways – either I find the free time early enough to sleep for a long time and catch up, or I just power through for weeks and months until I am mentally and physically about to break from exhaustion, and the first second that I’m left alone with nothing to focus on, I break down.

That’s what’s happening right now.

I’m lucky in that tonight, I’m simply overtired from a very non-stop summer and now four days of constantly being surrounded by people who I haven’t seen for months, and thus needing to be social 24 hours a day. I’m not a naturally social person, and so long in the company of others is exhausting. But I’m not shaking uncontrollably or sick with worry, because there’s nothing to be worried about right now. I just need to cry myself into an early and deep sleep, let myself go a bit, ground myself, remember who I am, and I’ll be okay tomorrow.

I need some time to just be me, not the social butterfly that I need to be in order to make the most of and enjoy my time as a student. I need to enjoy the silence and listen to my own breathing because the real work starts next week, and I can’t afford to have this much stress built up in my system.

I can’t afford to bottle, and I’m feeling more and more every day like that is what I’m doing now. I’m starting to bottle again, and that beginning to worry me a little.

It’s nights like tonight, when I’m having my moment, that I really miss home. Most of all, I miss my best friend and her words of advice, and warm hugs. I miss my old life, when I got tired and stressed but I wasn’t worried about my friends from home telling me they are okay when they’re not, because I saw them every day and knew when they weren’t okay. And I didn’t have to be social quite so much and exhaust myself quite so much because more people accepted my need to sometimes be alone. 

But then I remember how hard things were that year, and I don’t want to go back.

But it’s nights like tonight if I question if things are any better now, or if I’m still ignoring the truth and keeping it all closed inside me?

And then maybe I’m just overtired, and that’s why I feel like this. 

I appreciate time alone though, I know that much. I have to ground myself, and whilst a small pang tells me I’m missing out by not going out tonight, I know in my heart that this way, tomorrow night will be so much more fun when I’m well rested. Alcohol and stress are shit, because nobody wants to watch me cry all night, and I want to have a good time if I get drunk, alcohol causes enough anxiety as it is.

Sleeping tonight will make tomorrow better. I’ll be so excited!

Relief

Have you ever felt that it’s a relief to cry? To be able to let go, and to be who you really are, and feel what you really feel?

I never think I have. And then I cry, and I know what it feels like. And it’s sort of tears of joy and sadness mixing together, because you’re not quite sure if you’re happy that you don’t need to internalise anymore, or if you’re sad because you’ve done something impossible, you’re still fighting something deadly, or you simply don’t know how to cope anymore. It’s a funny place to be.

Because I’ve been afraid to blog. That’s why you’ve not heard from me in so long. I wanted to be perfect, I wanted to socialise, to work properly, to sleep and eat properly, to have more fun and do more work. So, I just haven’t sat down to blog. And I haven’t thought about what I’ve really been feeling. But the last few days I’ve had the odd stall which I’ve had to fix. It’s been fine, and the facade has stayed up, but now, I’ve decided I have to let go. I’m locked away in my dark bedroom, just me and my iPad, and several hours if I need it. I’ve been in a reflective mood all day, I nearly made myself cry in a lecture earlier.

I can’t put my finger on any one thing that’s making me feel uneasy, because I genuinely thought I was happy. I kind of feel like I tricked myself though, because to be alone and to really feel right now has made me remember that I’m not okay, and I don’t have to be okay. Yes, I can pretend to be okay in order to fix social situations, but I don’t have to be okay 24/7. I’m allowed to think, to feel, and to cry. Most of all, I NEED to talk and to write. So tonight, I’m forcing myself to do those things, and I’m forcing myself to blog.

Why? Because there’s a lot of things that I struggle with. Social situations, rational worry, irrational worry, stress, and probably a million other things, too. Whilst I like to think I’m quite capable of just dealing with them, there’s times when I’m not. And if I don’t write or talk, I’m at risk of going back to the place that I used to be. When you internalise, it’s too easy to feel alone, and I don’t want to go back to the habits that I’ve spent years breaking. It’s a lonely place, and I’m enjoying the friends and socialisation that I currently have. Not only that though, it’s fun to share some happy relief with the world, too. I love in a house with very pushy parents, and they’re not always as happy for me when I achieve something as I may hope for them to be. Blogging allows me to be me, and be as happy as I want to be. I got three firsts in my semester one modules. I’m over the moon, and I want to share those times, too!

So tonight, I’m going to take the leap that I’ve been trying to take for a week. I will force myself to blog, because once I’ve written one or two, it’ll be easy to incorporate it more regularly into my life. I need to remember why I blog. Yes, to an extent, I blog for you, but mostly, I blog for me. Blogging allows me to rationalise and organise my thoughts, to understand myself and the situations around me, and to cope with what’s going on by making a little space in my head.

So, I know I said this before, but this time, I really mean it. Here goes nothing, and lets get back to blogging!

Loosing Hope

Please someone come and hold me tight, and make the pain go away. The pain is spreading through my body, and unless someone comes and helps to hold the happiness in, I fear that I might loose it completely. Help me, please.

I’ve been staring at the ceiling for hours and hours and hours. It’s white. Empty. Bare. It’s the only thing that seems to provide just a little stability in my crazy head. Tears have been slipping down my face; my pillow, bed sheets, and jumper are now soaked.

But I’m slipping, slipping, slipping, the hope is going, going, going, and soon, I fear I will be lost. Yesterday, was fabulous. Today, the mountain that university is going to be just seems too big to climb.

I’m lost. All I want is to go back to school, and to a place where I had a support mechanism. My A Levels were difficult, but I had friends, teachers, and people who cared. Here, I’m alone. There’s nobody for company except my own mind to go around and around in endless circles. I want my biology teacher, I want my old design teacher, I want my chemistry teacher, I want my flute teacher. I want the familiarity of my Wednesday night Rainbows, and the monotony of the same timetable week upon week. I want people that I can turn to for a helping hand.

But that’s gone now, and it’s never ever coming back. I’m not prepared to accept that. I’m not prepared to accept that I’ve lost it, and that fear is pushing the happiness out, and letting the darkness in. I’m not prepared to accept that I won’t see my friends for months, and that I will potentially never set foot in my school again. Those places, and most of all, those people kept me sane. Those were the people that provided hope when times were tough, and who encouraged me to keep holding on. The people who I’ve lost are what have kept me alive, and now, there is nothing.

I’d give anything to not be here right now. I’m hiding, alone in my room. I don’t want to come out, I can’t let people see me. My wall must not ever be broken, and they must not know. But what am I hiding from? The fear will not subside, the darkness will not lift. The past isn’t going to come back, and I can’t cope with that right now. I’m tired. In fact, I’m exhausted. I’ve been studying for four days and I’m exhausted. The work load is huge, the need to understand is huge, and there’s so many things to concentrate on. Already, I’m overwhelmed. I’m not sure how I’ll survive this year. Somehow, I must. I must strive for my dreams, but the change of environment and the threat of the workload is simply too much for me right now. I simply do not know where to begin. I see no way to break the panic into steps, and so it’s grabbing me, holding me, and strangling me. Soon, the impending panic attack will hit.

Lying here, I’m wasting valuable time. I can’t afford to waste time. Stopping was always a bad idea, it’s stopping that encourages this ridiculous behaviour. Breaks are bad for the mind. Perhaps if I think and hope hard enough, someone will come and keep the happiness inside. Perhaps someone will help me to stop the tears. I know that right now I can’t believe it, but I also know that my best friend would tell me that ‘things will get better, it’s just not the end yet.’

Living. Laughing. Loving.

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