Reflections

I've been feeling pretty continually anxious and panicky for a while now. I think it's not helped that I've embarrassed myself a couple of times by being mindless with what I say - completely not maliciously but none the less thoughtless and at the expense of others. It's mortifying and I've no one but myself to blame which is an uncomfortable mental state to be in. The apologies are almost easier than the internal turmoil about my actions. I feel guilty and am questioning whether I'm becoming a nice person or not. I'm not sure I am really if I'm honest. I've always suspected it but I seem to be landing myself in it a lot.

It's the concept of forgiveness I struggle with. Well so many others do; it's a combination of hoping and trusting others to forgive you whilst struggling to forgive yourself. I imagine the people you upset forgive and forget even log before you can settle your conscience. So I must be kinder and more positive because really it all stems from my pessimism. Be kinder and do some kind of act of good will, whatever that may be. I will have to try and think of a way I can feel I've done some good deed, as a symbolic step in the right direction. Or is that just greed? And self-centred? I'm not sure: but perhaps it would make me feel better, meanwhile people I've affected have already moved on and don't care. Horrible to think I might be nasty. 

I think of Neil from Marvellous here: "I've always wanted to be happy, so I decided to be."

I don't want to be nasty. So I shan't. 

God it's good to vent somewhere again. I feel better already.

Blogging

What a time it's been since last posting. At the end of first year I had a real confidence low. My two best friends in that year were drop dead stunning and a few people were constantly comparing me to them (not in a good way). By the end of first year it really got my self esteem down, I had a fab summer meeting new people at work in Wales, and when it was time to go to a festival with some friends, I spent the first night in the tent alone while they went to party, crying. I can trace back to that moment where it all started to go wrong at uni.

Since then, I had a massive low in second year: the house was a headache in terms of organising new tenants and shitty landlords. I even considered and spoke to my parents quite seriously about dropping out. I started talking about Reading in past tense even! But weirdly I began to withdraw into myself, a complete shadow of the confident gimmicky girl I always have been. I believe I ran out of passion: passion for my subject, passion for my life in Reading.

Then in my second term of university last year, I became involved with somebody from back home, and he has become a massive part of my life. A buddy as well as my rock and partner. So perhaps I have been exploiting my need to run away by using him as an extra excuse - a reason to explain my absence. (Although I always want to be with him when I go home, and I would be running all the same without him.) Missed the end of last year pretty much entirely, and then this term I've spent the majority of term time in Wales.

You don't hear the voices of people who didn't get on with university life. About people getting up at 5:30am to get back in time for a lecture, and return home the next day as early as possible. I've heard many more stories from people in my home town who used to do the same, or put off going back to uni, cry every time they went back. The worst thing about it all, is when I considered dropping out we (my parents and I) discussed the dent it would leave in my CV. Three years, roughly 40 grand of debt and if you leave early you seem like a failure.

So it can be tough, especially when you are having an internal battle that you have failed socially and you pin all the blame on yourself. That's not a healthy state of mind at all. But the truth is I never met enough of the right people here, not many real friends I can count on to care about me. And I don't care back, because it's not right, the chemistry has faded. First year was extremely fun, and now I feel like a very old student who's hanging behind.

Which is why I haven't posted for so long. Ultimately I figured that I never blogged for people to read it, I'm not sure why anyone wants to read about what someone else has been up to. But it's such a release! To say everything you're feeling inside. I just haven't found my place or my passion yet. But that's ok, most people don't even realise they should be seeking it. I complained through sixth form, through travelling, (at the time), and now I've complained through uni. And that's fine, I just need to keep looking forwards and stop questioning myself. I'm not unfriendable, which I am just going to have to take time convincing myself of.

And breathe.

Home

 Happy Christmas!

It's so rainy here it feels more like early autumn that the night before Christmas. I was thinking recently, (actually when I was ice skating in Reading), remembering how intense it used to feel when you were slightly younger and falling for someone. If they didn't want you, it felt like your heart was being suffocated. I remember the intensity. It made me realise that nothing has made me feel that way in a long time.

It makes me ask questions. Questions about what I want to be doing. I'd sell my soul to easily walk away from my degree and go far away. Not for any reason other than to see everything and learn. To work for my day to day life, to meet extraordinary people once more. To meet myself maybe, I know that whole 'finding yourself' sounds corny, but I have no clue where I want to go and I have come to realise recently that I don't really like myself. I don't think I am kind, or generous or extraordinary. I am in fact - extra-ordinary.

If I come across that way, I think it is because acting kindly makes me feel less guilty about who I really am. I should go and meet people who make me feel less cocky and self-centred. I want to learn to live without that guilt about who and what I am. Who I am underneath everyone's perception of me. Then I can look my few close friends in the eye and not feel like I ought to be apologising to them.

I'm not sad about these thoughts, because I believe they are a necessary beginning of any journey. Whether that be me taking some time or continuing this path with a new attitude. I am unclear, but I am feeling positive.

Honesty.

Wales!

One exam, one night out and a 3 hour car journey later, I am in Wales again. It's been extra special by the fact that my dog has been to the groomers, and he smells like talcum powder it's so good. I'm in my lush bed with a hot water bottle having eaten the best eggs for dinner.

Also have my staff party tomorrow night - SO excited to see everyone and have some drinks! Just ecstatic to be back so far. I feel like this Christmas is going to have a lot of good things in store. It's a perfect time for a fresh start, and keeping up the new attitude I have about everything. Next term is so much quieter work wise, which is perfect. None of this is particularly interesting, but it's out there anyway.

Ooh! Actually I do have a funny story, my flatmate left his phone on bluetooth connected to a speaker in the kitchen, and porn started playing out of it. It was so funny, he didn't realise for ages.

Good Places

On another note, I just surprised myself by starting the first drawing in about 4 years. No wait... how old am I? 3 years. I've really forgotten how to do it, it's sort of comical, but I'm glad to see that my patience for it is still there.

Trying to juggle the exam revision, prep for tomorrow, exercise and eat what's left in my fridge so we can switch it off and clean it before I leave. It's all very stressful. AND in a bizarre turn of events, I saved money today. Like this: I got paid, and I transferred some of it into a savings account. I KNOW. Just before Christmas and everything! I don't know what's got into me. Probably a bloody good idea.

Bought another Christmas present today and feeling hugely successful. It's one of the sad parts of being a student, I feel like Christmas is happening somewhere else because we can't watch proper tv adverts, and the house is not decorated because we all leave this weekend. It's really going to hit me when I get home and the house is freezing and there's mistletoe everywhere.

Like a dream come true.

Meanwhile, Milly's mum forgot to pick up their passports at the gate in Heathrow, so she is currently stranded in Dubai waiting for their passports to be flown over so they can get through immigration. Honestly, I despair. So so so funny.

One Exam, One Group Presentation and One Test.

So today was my first exam, it went terribly but apparently everyone else's did too so hopefully it'll be alright... ignorance is bliss.

Now I have one test to complete, a group presentation tomorrow and finally an exam on Friday night to go! I'll be in that car driving home before I know it. Cannot WAIT to see my mum, my dogs, the decorations in the house, the fires, the music. Gives me shivers thinking about it!!!

I feel like Wales has turned me into a country girl. Words can't describe how at home I feel there, and how much I love the community and the people. Coming from where I was before, it's just nice that everyone looks out for each other. Salisbury was great, but it was too big to feel as homely. I'm a very lucky girl.

Just got to plod on with my work now!!!

8 days to go

 This last week has gone impressively quickly! One week to go, this time next week I hope I am already lasagned with my course mates. Did I mention I was grateful for them?

 And then Waaaaaaales yaaaaaay. Words can't describe how excited I am. Can't wait to get back to the cafe... drop some more cups, spill some more stuff and generally bodge up everything. This is going to be the best Christmas yet.

Plus to top all that off, mum's been to the doctors and everything with her heart is looking really good, medication is doing what it should and her lifestyle changes are making huge progress. Which calls for bubbles and mulled wine as soon as I am home. Can't wait to get my tacky faux fur coat back on and walk along streets with fairy lights arm in arm with mum, while she talks at me about plants and christmas food and keeps pointing out different things in shops.

I swear I'll blink this week and it'll be gone again.

May even crack out the jumper soon...

Grateful

Tonight I'm grateful for:
1. Books you can't put down
2. Course friends
3. Lady C's medical problems

12 days...

Happy first of December, I bought the first Christmas present the other day. I'm not sure they'll like it to be honest but there we go... can only improve.

Today I'm appreciating:
1. Messages from far away friends of the past
2. My English coursemates
3. Surprise parcels from those who worry and love me

14 Days and Counting

After a little bit of a panic and stress I'm finally getting to a calmer state about everything that's happening in my course. Out of that list of projects I have at the moment:

• 2 exams
• 1 assignment
• 2 group projects
• 3 online tests
• 1 statistics test

Add to that the extra strain of changing housemates and all the paperwork that goes with it. Whilst I'm very fond of the boys I live with, the majority of them leave everything to myself and Milly to sort. Let's just say I have a lot more sympathy for my mum dealing with her teenage sons now...

BUT I have been exercising regularly, I've lost weight and am already feeling the benefits AND by Tuesday I will have knocked two projects off that list! In 14 days time I will be packing up my jumpers and my houseplants to drive home for Christmas. 

I feel pretty positive right now. And my modules for next term are amazing so I'm in a better place, I've stopped drinking for a bit just to stop the whole becoming-a-psycho-girl thing and try to mend some relationships with people I was um... not great to. But it could be worse right!

Also, Justin Bieber is helping me through this time with his annoyingly good new album (if Joz or Barney are reading this, I'm sorry to let you down).

Panic

I think the emotions I've had frequently recently are as close as I have ever come to panic. I wake up every day around 6am and feel like someone is holding my chest really tight. I've often been waking up holding my cushion really really tight too, which is weird. I take ages to get to sleep because I feel so stressed about everything, and then I wake early and panic and in between I've been having horrendous nightmares.

It's really not a great feeling, I'm normally such a relaxed person. I'm starting to seriously worried about what my head is doing. It seems like a lot of the patterns I'm used to are being rearranged and flipped in my head. I'm not acting the same way I normally do to a lot of things. A bit freaky.

In other news, I bought a bonsai tree. My second house plant now if you count the basil.

My reading thing! I was going to talk about my reading resolution for this year. I have been BATTLING with this book called the Establishment by Owen Jones. It's very VERY wordy and whenever I start to read a bit I get super sleepy very quickly. But I have been trying to get past it!!! I will leap onto other books as soon as I get through more of it! I'm going to write up a schedule tomorrow and finishing that bloody book is going to be a priority, though it is one of the most affluent versions of my personal opinions when it comes to politics it's not an easy read.

Mistakes

I guess I'm going through a bit of a hard time at the moment. Sometimes when you crack, people can be in the middle of their own mess and they don't need to deal with your stuff. I don't like to make a fuss really but I feel like I'm drowning sometimes. I mean really, I've been dreaming it. It's not anything scarring, nothing terrible is really happening to me. It's just feelings, and everything happens at once you know? I feel a bit like I've been doubly clobbered and my actions make everything worse lately. It's got me questioning who I am, I seem to always have love at the top of anything else I may be searching for. That means I end up falling for incompatible people and messing myself around - only to turn around and blame them. I'm only picking up on the patterns that keep repeating themselves. But the worst person I've ever gone for in terms of being an awkward situation has turned out to be the best, because he might be the only person who is really willing to listen to me - years later - and as am I for him. I'm lucky to have someone that valuable in my life no matter what happens. He might be thousands of miles away but he remains my rock since I was just a 17 year old girl. Though I am sorry for everyone I hurt in that process, but it's been the best thing for me.

The only reason I'm posting anything this personal is because I've stumbled trying to think of what to post on here. Also because my viewings are teeny now that I haven't been posting it anywhere online I don't feel it's too attention seeking to write something more emotional on here... it's really an online diary.

"Knuckle Down"

I've been going through a patch recently where I haven't really felt like myself. The workload I have for this term has been an absolute joke, with two exams before christmas both counting as 100% for two modules (obviously the most difficult ones), two group projects, tests and an assignment within three weeks of each other. By Christmas I'll have to remember that it leads to a peaceful second term with only two days a week of lectures!

It's been that with a combination of personal stuff, money worries and not adoring my coursework that has made me feel a little alienated at the moment. I've been taking it out on all the wrong people, friends, flatmates and my parents worrying about me at home (despite the addition of a brand new fluffy dressing gown which dad treated me to a couple of weeks ago). I even had my first ever moment of acting like my mum when she's stressed - that's a scary experience for anyone!

This week was particularly bad, after last Saturday's night out I had to take the liberty of sending THREE apology messages to people the next day who'd I'd unfairly harassed or been rude to... not impressive behaviour. Probably the most psycho I've ever been... I shan't go into details. So yesterday I took the opportunity after doing my work, having a bath and going for an early night to thank everyone important who's suffered from my little breakdowns.

Sometimes when you know you've got a shit day coming up and you're worrying about it, all you need to do is stop and take a step back from it. I realised last night that whatever the problem is, you probably won't even remember in a years time. Or maybe even a month's time. And if it goes horrifically worse than you'd expected? Is it really going to change where you find yourself in five years time? Probably not.

So it is time to let go of all the worries and actually knuckle down with work. My sleeping has been a nightmare for weeks (literally after an array of horrifying bad dreams) so I've been sleeping earlier, reading more and eating a little less. Milly's even going to attempt getting me on her workout programme... ha... how often have I said that before though.

Bit of self-belief, bit of gratitude for the love you have around you, and a bit of momentum was all I needed. You got this.

Self Value

 I've been in a very confusing yoyo motion when it comes to my self worth lately. It started with an unconscious compression of negativity, which I could only identify was around me when I removed myself from that environment and went home over summer; it was like a weight was lifted. I've changed from being beautiful, to average, to ugly and always seemed to believe in whatever I was told. Lately I've learned to realise that the most negative comments come from those who know me the least, and care about me the least. And yet, it's still implanted in my head.

 So how do comments, criticism and complimentation affect your view of yourself? My mum is always furious with me when hearing what people think of me makes me feel low about myself. But it's hard to avoid something boring into your head when it's repeated and repeated and repeated over and over again. One positive comment can become unacknowledgeable in a sea of negativity.

 There's so much we give out just from our attitude and how we feel. It's like that weird experiment which showed that female strippers got more in tips when they were at their most fertile in their hormonal cycle  - when someone believes they are attractive, they seem to become it. It comes in phases too, but it's not really something you can fake.

 I've found that your self-image can affect the way you act towards people. The way I've been with men recently resembles massively the needy 17 year old girl I once was. It's the manic desire to give away love - to anyone - and being unable to recognise poor actions before you can stop them. That's made me question a lot of who I am, whether I ever really grew up from that clingy little girl. Have I ever developed my own way of being attractive? Do I find myself attractive? It's not just what I look like, it's how I act, who I am. And does anyone think that of me, that's the scariest feeling, not being wanted.

 It's a very horrible feeling to be that swallowed up by your own doubt and confusion in the mix of other people's comments and treatment. I feel like I'm tumbling through the middle of that process right now. It's a very lonely place to be, especially knowing it's inevitable and will take its time.

 But this will pass, as ever. Just good to get it off my chest to a silent audience.

Year 2...

 After probably one of my favourite summers: working in a place with the most amazing staff and driving around with friends for months on end, I'm now a few weeks back into uni. I was pretty nervous leaving the incredible countryside in Wales, feeling like the best version of me at that time and heading for Reading - knowing I'd have to adapt to that sarcastic and critical humour from the boys. It's been a bit of a bumpy transition for me, personally, but it's good.

 So far I've celebrated a few birthdays, had my wallet stolen (the bastards spent £500 with my cards and cash!), accidentally flashed my boobs at friends and eaten slightly dodgy chicken.

 I asked Milly the other day about whether she ever worries that she wasted any of her youth by missing out on experiences. We both laughed about the desire we had to try and run away. She told me she once packed her bags and hid in the house, so when they realised she would have the satisfaction of scaring her parents but then be able to just pop out and calm them down. She has the same fears as I do.

 For me I just worry that there are never enough stories to tell about being younger. I was unfortunately, or fortunately however you look at it, incredibly happy as a child. I don't have those crazy stories that weren't funny at the time but are now, because everything was alright. There was nothing to rebel from. When I first passed my driving test, I considered driving with my music on loudly through town as the most exhilarating experience that I could bear. (Mind you I did once hide my sandwiches under my bed for weeks and that was definitely not funny when mum found out.)

 Now I'm 20 and I don't know what I want, still. Well actually that's a lie. I realised a while ago that all I wanted was to be extraordinary. But I fear I may be too lazy for such a life to be realistic, and I don't know how to put that word into practise. Hmmm...

Summer Term

 Have just had the most fabulous two weeks working for a mannequin company in London. It was a place I visited for work experience back in year 10 and I loved the people, the feel to the place and the odd pieces of body parts lying around. Feel so inspired by all the things I learnt while I was there and desperate to come back to the company at some point with the right knowledge and training behind me.

 I also had a fab weekend at home where mum and dad have begun preparing their alternative stag/hen parties. It's a beautiful little space - a bit like a small studio - with windows they found for a few quid at the dump, corrugated tin roofing and stunning views. I will upload some photos soon but don't have any at the moment so instead heres some papier mache balloons...

 Over the weekend I was taking photographs and editing their website for them to get it started. It's still pretty empty at the moment but check it out: http://www.springfieldarts.co.uk There are links to their Facebook, Twitter and Instagram pages which are worth looking at. Currently they're planning to start up alternative hen/stag dos where they teach the people to sing a song for the wedding (I know it's not waking up on a roundabout in Leeds but still).

 Mum and I also discovered that flour + water makes glue (!) and have begun an art installation for the space with balloons and paint. Pictures below:

The festival was also on, saw Stephen Fry talk and that was wicked. And drank pimms. Happy happy days. Feeling very inspired, want to get home and make stuff!

Also I would just like to say that I have a terrible tendency to be a bitch to innocent people when I first meet them. For example, In freshers I met an innocent boy, lets call him Ralph. Ralph could not have been kinder to me, took interest me, and seeked my friendship. Unfortunately readers I chose to, for no reason, hate him. Reflecting now I think to myself how could I hate such a loving, attractive and all round good person. Now the tables have turned and If i want to keep any friends at uni then I need to suck up to him.

You know you love me, xoxo

Attributes

 Recently I've taken on the project of getting my body back to how I want it to be. I've piled on sneaky pounds for just shy of a year now, and I'm done with it now. I have a real limitless stomach and nothing seems to make me full anymore, is the main problem.

 Entering the gym again this week has made me evaluate just what I want to be and who I want to be. I've always been in there feeling like my sports kit wasn't good enough: that I have the 'hiking' Nikes and everyone else has the running ones, in a better colour. I've presumed that my sports kit looks stupid, that I should be doing more time, faster. I feel like everyone in the gym is looking at me and watching to see when I crack. The gym is full of two types of people, I think: people who love themselves, and people who hate themselves.

 This week, I've had an essay to finish for Monday, a German aural test today which took a lot of prep time, a 2000 word report due for Friday, two friends' birthday Friday night, work Saturday and Sunday, and an assignment due in on Monday. I have had no time for revision and I thought I'd be more stressed than I am. But for some reason I've been pretty cheery and happy about it. It's so good to get lots of stuff done.

 There's always the same personality traits to work on as well: speak less about myself, speak less, be there for the people who need you, do the right thing blah blah blah. But it feels like some of those are happening even through this process of constant work. I feel like I'm becoming me - if that makes sense.

Just me?

 I'm praying that's it not just me who's peppering my parents with quotes from uni (Ja'mie King mostly, thanks Raef) and driving them mad with it. I've trained my mum to keep putting her two fingers up and saying 'YOLO' like we all do and when I say "Where are we going?" my parents both chorus back reluctantly with: "Banterbury".

 I think they want me to go back now. And so do I, I am ridiculously home sick for everybody there. I understand that I'm going through the irritating time where uni friends are everything to you, but I really don't care. This feels like my time, finally. Not really sure what I mean by that... I know it entails having -700 pounds, a crate of beers and some of the worst private jokes ever. Happiness.

Listen to this:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M0k_i8PPM40

5 Books Behind...

 To be fair, before you start judging me as a failure, I have read 10 books since the beginning of this year. And I think that's pretty damn good. But I am five behind and trying to zip through them while I'm at home for Easter.

 I bought a brilliant couple of books in London last week, one of which is a fantastic situational comedy about Hitler called Guess Who's Back: he wakes up in 2011 in a field in Berlin and he is pissed off with the world he sees. He keeps being taken for a flawless impersonator who never breaks character and he ends up on a tv show and all sorts. It's very amusing and also quite shocking, to see how easily someone could rise to fame again for the wrong reasons. The problem with extremist comedy is that there's always a bunch of nutters watching and nodding their heads.

 The second book was the Rosie Effect, a guy with some form of aspergus syndrome is told by his wife they're expecting a baby, car crash narrative from then on. He goes to a park at one point to film children to see how they act, the police come along and he uses his aikido to defend himself from them because he doesn't like to be touched, that kind of thing. Very funny.

 Anyway, I know all that's quite dull. I also learnt this week that my brother is having a book published and also has been asked by a prestigious organisation to write a play for them. Very happy and proud for him, but selfishly it did make me ponder on the relative chance of myself having any relative success. I've always been a bit less... focused shall we say, than my brothers. I don't know where I want to go yet. A bit like Beethoven's sister - he did have a real one, and she did music and it didn't go down so well. Because Beethoven was her brother. Mind you she wasn't a raging drug addict so that's something to aspire to at least...

 It's quite hard to sometimes think where your voice is going to cut through the crowds. I was much more productive in my gap, when I needed to find things to do because I wasn't doing any extra stuff outside of work. How I miss that, finishing at 5 and having nothing to think about.

 Must get on.

1st April

 A year ago today I was on a plane travelling to Vietnam. I don't know whether an hour in was when the food I was served gave me a very bad stomach *insert graphic detail here* or whether it was later. Either way, I was watching Gravity on the main screen because mine didn't work, and I saw the whole film without any of the dialogue.

 That is probably the most boring detail I could go into about that day. I do remember that I'd been incensed that I wasn't going to get an easter egg, so mum bought me one before we left and we were desperately trying to eat about five twirls before I left. Joz, my brother, rang me and said 'Turn around, wave, yep... yep I can see- that's really mean sorry I'm not actually there.'

 Mum cried when I went through the gate. I got to Vietnam and bought a packet of Walkers = 'Lays' and they were green but 'nori seaweed' flavour. That was weird. I slept on a bench for about 6 hours. What an adventure.

 Today I'm in halls by myself, having just come back from London and am going to get a train home today to see mumma and pappa Evans. If you ever wondered what it's like to live in a building with 300 doors but about 7 people, it's actually frightening. Eerie silence all the time - I've actually grown to miss the dude in the room above me who plays music at 3am and taps his feet out of time with the beat. I miss everyone heaps and heaps. Now if I hear a sound outside my room I leap up to see if it's a real person, feeling a bit like Bear Grylls going mad in the wilderness. And shock horror - diet hasn't been great.

 Just read 'The Catcher in the Rye' which was brilliant, very moany teen stuff. Bought a book yesterday which looks hilarious - Hitler wakes up in 2011 and finds the world being run by women and immigrants and he is mighty pissed off to be continually mistaken for a flawless impersonator. Can't wait to start it. Need to finish packing for home now.