Today, I received an email confirming my place as a course representive at my university.

I have very mixed feelings… like always I guess. There are ups and there are downs to this. I am trying to outweigh the negatives with the positives and for once, I think this could be positive. Obviously, the instant benefit everyone has said to me is that it looks good on a CV. However, that has absolutely nothing to do with it, I really could not care about that at all. 

Instead, my surprising motivation for this was that this was a final, desperate attempt to meet new people. I will spending an hour a week with a group from the fresher year, answering their questions and telling them about the course. I would help them settle into the course, give an opinion that is not coming from someone employed at the university and be there for the group. This year, as a fresher, I had two leaders for my group and they were super helpful, one of them also tried to help me with my depression too. I really want to be someone that is not there only for the academic side, but also to be there for the new blood, be a support for them too like I had.

Furthermore, whoever I get put with to help out an hour a week, I will get to know them too; therein lies a positive and a negative, and great uncertainty. After the email today, I was able to see who it was addressed to. There are a dozen or so of us and I could be with any of them, most likely four of us to a group as there will probably be three again like last year. As you can tell, I have over-thought all of this and among all of the names, a flat mate from last year and her best friend, my first ex, are leaders too. I genuinely have no clue why she would ever go for this, she was going to quit the course, hated her placement and hated living on campus too. Another question that I cannot answer.

That was one of the names I was searching for in the mailing list and when I saw it, I pretty much laughed out loud, shouted ‘aawh nooooo!!!’ and then texted a group of people from university about it. I referred to her as ‘she who shall not be named’ (great Voldemort reference there) and we joked about it. Personally, I will do everything in my power to be in a different to her, be as far away as possible and even stage a protest if I have to. This is something that I want to do and there is no way that she is getting in the way of it. Some other poor soul will have to suffer her and I really do pity them. Jokes aside, I don’t know what is going to happen when she sees me again, after all, she is utterly bananas and could go ape, who knows.

Half of the names were people that were in my old group from las year so I know them a little already. I think that it would be nice to get to know them a little better, especially one of them that I had a little crush on. However, she will most certainly be paired with a this mouthy Essex girl that if you know what an Essex person is like, I would rather bungee jump into a vat of acid. And the talented girl that I liked, is one hundred person not interested so I probably won’t end up being in her group either. The others are either mature students or these other girls I know that will be together too. I have no idea which clique I will be put in, but either way, I think it is clear that I will be friends with the other leaders, but rather get to know the fresh faces of the new year and be there for them.

This role would get me out of my little flat more and if I do hate the people I am living with again, then hopefully it will be a sweet escape. The training for this leadership takes place on a day in late September according to one of the tutors, leading me to believe that it will be the same week as the weekend I move in. Consequently, I might have to move in a few days earlier and at the moment, I am very happy about that! No more fucking family, I get to escape again and despite the darkness from last year, I am wiser in how to avoid some of the issues that I had. Knowing that I am lactose intolerant, I will not be ill for the first this time, meaning I can get stuck in to meet new people and be myself. I recently bought Cards Against Humanity on eBay and I am now waiting a million years for them to arrive, hoping that I will have different people to play it with than last year.

Shia Just Do It
I am once again being hopeful, possibly a step in the right direction, or like before a step towards hope could lead me in to something dark again. Either way, I am wiser now and I have that experience, it is something that I must do. To quote Shia LaBeouf, ‘just do it!’
Much love from your friend,


I went public about my depression, plastering it on my social media and I will never remove it.

Back in April when I was at my lowest, I committed social suicide. I gave into the temptation to publicly cry out for help and I put a lengthy post on my social media about my feelings at the time. I feel ashamed that I submitted to such a selfish act and needlessly got people involved in my personal life. 

If someone really cares about you, they would pay enough attention to realise that something is ‘different’ about you. Let’s not say ‘wrong’ because depression affects 1/4 people and it is a natural occurrence, mostly out of our control. It is human to accept defeat or dark emotion that you have tried to suppress for too long. When we are feeling that loss of control, a degradation of self-worth and anti-social, for me, I felt it was obvious to see. One or two people have since told me that they thought something was wrong, that I was not behaving like myself. Although those people never thought to ask me simply how I was feeling; they never made the effort to ask.

That person that I was becoming now feels like my full identity: a depressed, reclusive, un-motivated, jealous and un-loved, invisible person. I am still trying to fight it, attempting to wear a smile on my face and live each day as it comes, find something to look forward to and occupy myself. But the truth is, in the still moments, when I get time to think, it comes back to me out of the darkness. Everyday occurrences trigger it. I do or think things that I am not proud of, that I don’t want to ever be a part of. However, this side is a part of me whether I like it or not. And no matter how much I can try to lie and appear like my old self, I will always have that side.

That side is out there for everyone to see on my social media. I refuse to take it down because that post represents perfectly the dark feeling I experience still every day. If somebody reads that and makes the decision to avoid me, then they really are not a friend and I do not need another narrow-minded, hurtful person in my life; I have suffered enough of them. The post was originally a cry for help, declaring my need for someone to be there, love me because I cannot live without it. I was on the brink of ending it all. And now, it remains a statement not only of my weakness of giving into the urge to call absolutely anyone for help, but also in the strength in admitting that I am not okay. I am not fine. I am dying on the inside and I need help. Everyone really should grow some balls to actually ask someone how they are feeling when someone appears to be changing, perhaps showing signs of depression or another illness. Asking someone ‘how are you feeling’ or something similar can change everything. It would have made a world of difference to me but nobody did. I was the one that had to tell everyone because for a month, nobody asked and I was on my own. Seriously, do not suffer in silence, ask for help, I would definitely recommend in a different way to making it public on social media though. And do not be afraid to ask someone how they are feeling, it is a really kind gesture and could change everything.

When I uploaded the post, I had a few people privately message me, then ask if everything was okay and half of them were honestly random people, people that I have never been close with, that I haven’t seen in a year and since then, they have never messaged me again. They haven’t bothered to check up on me. Instead, they only asked me how I was to make themselves feel better for doing something when really, they did more harm than good. After not speaking to them since what was said, it shows that they just felt guilty reading it and that honestly, makes me feel awful for expressing my depression on social media; I knew it would have that effect and I did it anyway.

For the people that I did know a little more, that I have spoken to or seen since, it really did not help me talking to them either. Indeed venting emotion can be uplifting in the moment, but really, it is unfair on the recipient when texting is not the place for discussing such feelings, face to face should be the way. If you are not willing to tell someone face to face your deep emotion, then they do not need to know. Only the very closest people need to know. That is a regret I cannot take back and now everybody knows. It is on my medical records, university records and everyone that knows me knows too. Depression really should be your private business that you disclose when you are comfortable. Though for me, I hate hiding things from people, I would rather be honest and now that everyone knows, while nothing has really changed and I am still alone, I do not have to worry about anyone finding out. This label written all over me saves me from having to hide. Now, I just invisibly hide in plain sight instead. Before and after what happened five months ago, I am still ignored, alone and lost.

So with the testament to my mental health emblazoned on my social profile, my life did not really change much because of it. I want you to feel more comfortable in the way you feel about depression, that it is acceptable to feel, it is normal. Do not suffer alone or in silence, tell at least one person that you trust. And do not take over their life with personal misery like I may have done a few times, just make them aware of your situation and tell them how you want to feel, help them accept you rather than leave them to react by themselves because most people have no clue how to react or deal with someone that is experiencing depression.

I do not feel like sharing the post on here because I wish to keep it only for the eyes of those that know me personally. They will never know me like anyone reading this blog, but I must now keep it there, where it belongs. And I also must get to sleep as it is 03.52 in the morning.

Much love from your friend,


I can hold a conversation with a stranger, but I can’t hold one with the people that know me anymore.

In shops, out on the streets, if I have to talk to a stranger then I will, I have no problem with that; it is very refreshing to branch out to new people even if it is just a one-off, random conversation. As a human being, I like to communicate. However, when it comes to those I know the most, my family and friends, I can barely find a word for them. 

When you know so much about someone, their interests, their travels, you should just be able to produce a new conversation starter out of thin air. I did it at university talking about things in common such as discussing the course with my new classmates and gossip and so on. Although at home, with the friends I have known for years and my family, I cannot find the words. Lately I feel like there are some factors holding me back from communicating now, such as a lack of respect for my parents or tiredness of old friends that I feel I have outgrown. Like a deer caught in the headlights, I freeze.

I feel the other’s eyes on me, awaiting a movement from my lips to produce something that they want to here to make time go by a little faster and yet, nothing. An awkward silence clouds the air. Eyes now looking for neutral ground to gaze at as we collate our thoughts on what we know about each other and what has happened to us recently. And the only thoughts we seem to hear are the thoughts telling us to think of something. By that point, you begin to feel paranoid, that the other person now thinks you are awfully quiet and they are thinking negatively about you. Then, either a saving grace whisks you away from this nightmare or, it gets worse… and you say something off the top of your head.

I did this for the millionth time last night, at McDonald’s with three of my old friends, sat in pairs whilst we eat because they chose the most impractical seating arrangement for a group of people. Placed one on one with someone you know all too well that is really grating on you recently and the only time they see fit to open their lips is to blow into a half-opened packet on a straw, shooting the paper cover at your face, then finding something to say can be quite a mission.

After the multiple silent intervals spanning between several seconds and whole minutes, the times a conversation began between the two of us was came from me. Reluctant as I was, at the end of the night we are still friends and so to make the night go a little smoother, I could only find real talk for him, such as how his new job is going, what he plans to do for his first year of university in a month’s time, etc. And after about a minute of conversation I was desperately attempting to save, my friend from the adjacent table leaned over and exclaimed, ‘nice job interview you two are having there!’ The three of them laughed out loud and so I faked a laugh too, hiding my rising frustration.

In my attempt to make things better, I am met with ridicule and made fun of, like usual. At work today, a customer said that I had a very serious face after I noticed him staring at me for about twenty seconds straight before I made eye contact with him to throw him off. Since forever, people seem to point out my face rather than what is behind it. And then when I got home from work today, my dad told me to ‘cheer up’ yet again. If it was as easy as that, I would have done that five months ago. Little digs and jokes just build up, wherever you are or whatever you are doing, your mind can just bring them up and catch you off guard. And I remember all of them, vastly outweighing any compliment I ever get because they are incredibly few and far between and usually for something that I do not care about like cleaning the range at work this even ing, some guy joked asking what my hourly rates were for cleaning and everyone else got into the joke. I honestly think that I would prefer to be invisible. The only times I seem to be visible is when I do not want anybody to see, when I just want to get on and do what I have to do.

And over time, my family and friends have made countless remarks, that they do mean. I find them daily discussing me behind my back or people say things to my face, either way it all stings the same. With the lengths that I go to to be in their lives, I really do not receive any indication of my value in their lives other than to be someone who can make them feel better at my own expense. I struggle to talk to my family and friends now, I do not feel any impulse to go out of my way to communicate with them, they just do not make feel welcome anymore; I do not consider them an option to turn to.

I do only have a handful of friends and one family, I should perhaps ‘cheer up’, take a joke, but I just know when they mean it. Friends and family are supposed to be the support network for someone like me. But really, they’re the people who I want to avoid the most. I welcome some random stranger any day to have a conversation with, as long as it means I am not talking to the people that I know, the ones that I know do not really care about me. I feel like I have no one to turn to other than this blog and I have tried to branch out and meet new people; nobody has been interested. This blog is the only place for me to have a meaningful conversation… or rather a rant or vent. And I do try to talk about my feelings to people, like my dad, but he just went on to do what he normally does and talk about himself and then forget what he was talking about, and then just carry on anyway expecting you to listen when really you have lost all meaning to this conversation. I have a friend that will probably read this in the next couple of days and she was right, talking to me, trying to make me brighten up a little, see things differently, is indeed ‘like hitting a brick wall.’ I am sorry, but this gloomy individual that likes to talk about feelings is unfortunately who I have become.

While moving to university in a month and a half does still fill my mind with anxiety and darkness, memories and feelings from last year, it is the only other way for me to meet someone new again. Hopefully this time, I will actually be seen for who I am, beneath the skin. Find the one person to make it all worth it. In terms of living arrangements, I will still be hiding from the people I live with in my room just like I do at home with my parents. And I will be limited to how I can live, just like at home with my parents. Plus, I have to see the people from last year again. The risk involved in meeting a new person however ay become the final gamble that I ever take. Meeting people ast year went so terribly wrong and at a university, I am bound to make the same terrible mistake again. At least I will be able to make a conversation with them though before they ruin my life so that is something.

Much love from your friend,



Out of the black, a shot straight through my core. Opening the crack, like a boot through a glass door.

I lay in comfort, tucked in, fixed on my TV. ‘No worries’ I thought to myself at 4am last night. Then, a few words spoken on-screen ripped through me, bringing me straight back to my last ex. The past twenty-four hours have crushed me once again. 

What was said on-screen reflected an exact conversation I had with her, along the lines of having an evil within us and that she cannot be loved. The character’s partner reassured her like I had in the past that he loves all of her, he could love her when she couldn’t love herself; he would always be there to help her recover from the dark days.

I had that conversation many times with her when she would lose faith in herself. We both thought that we could help each other, give each other purpose and feel loved. But I couldn’t see through all of the blind faith and hope that she had always been on a path of self-destruction and that I was just another scar on that path. I thought I could ‘fix’ her when I was already broken; it was doomed to fail from the start. And I play it all over again in my head.

After losing the safety in my room, in my own head, all I wanted to do was run to the lake, sit by it, watch the water. When I am this depressed, all I want to do is drown. I’m drowning in negative emotion and the water is one way I can put a stop to it. I cannot swim, no one would be around for hours; I could finally end this misery. It has been so long since I was hurt and still I find myself alone, wanting to leave this place. When the one place of safety falls through and I lose again, I am trapped in a downwards spiral. That night I had to find her again on social media, see her again. I kept whispering that I wanted to die and I was banging my head on the wall because I couldn’t sleep. I hate what she has done to me and still I haven’t found a way to cope, a way to live a normal life, a way to get over it. And what I found on her social media, signs that she is in love with someone else.

She can move on, find another body to hold her before she inevitably self-destructs again. And for five months, no one has so much as looked at me. I literally think that whatever I see in the mirror, everyone else sees my braces, spots, generic adolescent frame and it is like the perfect camouflage to appear as nothing special amongst the billions of people on the planet. The only people that communicate with me are people that want something, such as customers at work that take about ten seconds of staring at me before they take in a breath to ask me a question when my boss isn’t around. No stranger says anything to me, they barely take a glimpse at me. And when they do, it’s probably because there is something behind me that they’re actually interested in.

Today, at home, on social media, at work, I hid my feelings and everything that had happened to me last night. My dreams once again brought her back into my life. However, this time the pain was still there and there was nothing I could do about it. I was packed into a theatre and she came on stage with her boyfriend. I went to reach for my phone to make a joke to a friend that knew her to help me cope, but it disappeared ad I couldn’t communicate with him, I couldn’t communicate with anyone. I had to sit there and watch this horror show. With the image of her burned onto my retina, it was hard not to see red for the rest of the day.

I survived another day at work, wore the mask, portrayed the character and at the end of the performance everyone went home happy; everyone except me. The thoughts spilled into my mind now and then when I was supposed to be focussed on work, but after indulging in the pain of them I continued to do my job, take the emotion out. When I got home, I watched the next episode of that TV show and now, I am writing, confessing to and accepting the events of the past twenty-four hours. I think now at 1:08am, I might go out to sit by the lake, listen to some music, get some fresh air; I just need to exhale for a while. Don’t worry, I only plan on sitting there tonight, nothing else. I really need a break.

Before I go, a song called ‘Houdini’ by the underrated Alex Winston illustrates the pain vividly. My ex even used to grind her teeth in her sleep too like the song illustrates, even with me next to her. I knew she would leave… I guess what I am trying to say is that the song reminds me that there are other people out there dealing with the same emotional turmoil too and that they can live their life with it. I want to be like them, actually live for a change.

Much love from your friend,



New Month, Same Old Pain. Still Nobody New And Everyone Else Is Progressing, Why Can’t I?

This is my first post this August. It took nine days to feel motivated to write again… to quote Tame Impala, it feels like I only go backwards. People tell me to give life time, time to move on and time to grow, experience ‘new’ things, give life another chance. Five months of this depression and I feel no closer to the end of the tunnel, just deeper into the abyss. 

I feel that behind the failure of the English language to appropriately articulate feeling and concepts, I am thinking that people really mean ‘acceptance’ rather than ‘time’. Time does not really change anything, it is merely a hypernym over factors such as ageing, decay, progress, etc. When telling a depressed person to give everything ‘time’, it feels more like I am being told to find acceptance in what has happened to me; accept that I am currently alone and have been for years now, that I am paranoid about everyone I meet and speak to, that love has been dead to me for months now and it was not my fault… or so I must believe to try to stay sane; although self-criticism and reflection does come easily to me, like a second nature to put myself down.

Being told to accept the harsh reality of the world I am living in is a million times more difficult than it sounds, how can I and why should I accept unfathomable horror? I could be dead, without any pain and worries rather than having to accept and survive this bullshit I am drowning in. My situation still has not changed and hope still feels like a distant dream. I can say that I have accepted the past and yet after giving everything time and space, I really don’t feel any better. I still feel like dying, accepting the gift of mortality rather than what feels like an eternity of pain. Music and escapism still eases the pain, alone in my room most of the day, waking up in the afternoon and gracing the world of my mind as the sun rises. But such a lonely existence is no life at all.

I had a dream the other day, one where the world was going to hell around me and yet I was okay with that, just as long as I had love; on the seat next to me, the most vivid image of the dream was my ex, the second one that lied to me for three months. I felt love and happiness, we had our hands on each other like we used to and I felt warm inside; it felt real. Even after the acceptance of my past, my mind still plagues me with twisted visions of a world that will never be, no matter how much my subconscious longs for it. And I wake up, tortured and lost without that love and feeling I had but moments before I awoke. It seems like nothing has changed, my subconscious is still plagued after all of this time and conscious acceptance of reality.

Furthermore, my motivation diminishes by the hour. It has affected me, causing me to think less of myself. I feel invisible strings holding me back from many things, I just feel not bothered to get out of my bed to pick up my laptop and write. I started a running program a month ago in which you run three times a week for fourteen weeks to prepare you for a 10k marathon. I never planned on running a marathon, I just wanted to feel better about myself. I got two weeks in and for no particular reason I have just stopped. I never got around to continuing it with all of my free time, despite the enjoyment and good feeling I get from it. I am more than capable of running the distance, I do try to keep fit, but I just procrastinate and don’t find time for it anymore.

My mood and motivation has dropped lower than what it was this time last year, before university and after the heartless academic pressure of GCSE’s and A-levels. I am more self-aware than I was a year ago, matured by the past year’s events. It even turns out that I am and always have been lactose intolerant which explains a lot, my mum never thought to tell me that in nineteen years, cheers mum…

Even attempting to feel better about myself, accept, forgive, move on, is an insurmountable task when still nothing changes for better, just worse. I am taking other’s advice of not really telling anyone anything personal about myself, not going out of my way to express inner demons. It is tough when I would want others to be honest with me and forthcoming too, and yet I am hiding in plain sight now instead. And in doing so, it has clarified that no one even asks, no one goes out of their way to show that they care about me, how I am doing. I ask them but they don’t ask me, I have to start conversations. Nobody makes a move to talk to me. The crush, I have been speaking to her now and then, and while I can accept that maybe she just does not use social media very often and put my paranoia behind me, the fact that the conversation has now ended, she saw the last message, open to continue the conversation and yet she did not, shows that she really is a decent and normal person after all. A human for not being interested in me just like everybody else. Once again, feeling invisible and ignored, no matter how hard I try, to be myself, to be a decent person, nobody cares. One feeling I truly do not know is feeling appreciated.

After all of the acceptance and second chances that I offer, where are my second chances? Where is the acceptance and consideration of me? Every single day my family put me down, complain about me, forget me and when they do cook me dinner for example, they prepare food that I cannot eat. I have had braces for over two years and yet they insist on cooking meat on the bone, tough pork chops and baguettes, food I have not liked in nineteen years of life, food that I physically cannot eat.

There never has been consideration of me, never a second option, I get what I am given or I starve. I must be grateful. I have a succinct four-letter word, followed by a three-letter word for them, to tell them where to go.

Despite the dread of university this September, escaping them for a second time will be a dream come true. I have given them too may chances to change and another thing that I have accepted is that people do not change. Once you see their true colours, only then can you decide on whether to give them a second chance and through all of my failed attempts, my parents do not deserve another. They brought me into this world and raised me, but they could have done so much more that comes with the role of being a parent and in that respect, they have failed. I have respect for my father for putting up with my mother for all of these years, but I have no respect for my mother and I cannot say that I ever will. She has raised me through misery and continues to. Through efforts of making time for them, watching movies with my dad, making food for my mum, the simple acts and consideration are not reciprocated towards me. Nothing has changed in a year. Same old pain, no progression; only acceptance and awareness of reality.

And with this cold, lonely and dark reality, the world suffers too. An orangutan as President of the ‘United States’, terrorism forcing beliefs upon innocent humans with the right to free will and speech, maiming and murdering anyone in their way, discriminating, dividing communities and alienating minds, betraying belief and faith. The rich get richer and the poor get poorer. Bureaucracy suppresses the individuals and I am in the middle of it all too, just like you, uncertain of tomorrow’s headlines. I am scared and lost, not only because of my past but also because of the world around me. I do not wish to live my life, but I also do not wish to live in such a world either, not when the dark outweighs the light now. Not even the incredible new season of Game of Thrones can distract me from my life and the world.

I don’t know what to do with myself…

Much love from your friend,


I Had An Anxiety Attack Today And I Told No One. I Put On A Brave Face And I Sucked It Up.

Sitting on my sofa for a rest, just casually listening to some music after some exercise, all of a sudden my mind darkened and I was short of breath. Gasping for about fifteen minutes worrying about my future and everything else, I was powerless but to sit there, breath and contemplate. 

I was and still am incredibly frightened of what happened and the uncertainty of what will happen to me. The growing fear of going back to university swells every day and the feeling I had, breathless and paralysed by fear, was a feeling I had hidden from myself and lost for the better… but it came back.

The feeling that out of no where, I was entirely alone, mortal, broken and unloved came back with a punch right in the stomach. I was winded and I couldn’t breath, my stomach felt knotted and constricting and I just wanted to be sick. The feeling only lasted for fifteen minutes but the damage was done. It made me a few minutes late for work and distracted. I got annoyed at myself for once again not being in control of my emotions and all I wanted to do was lay down, listen to music and rest, however, I had a job to do.

My job is physical and can be demanding of endurance when I can’t eat for four plus hours due to my braces and not being able to clean them at work and the lack of energy and motivation I feel on a daily basis. I had to hide what happened from my dad as I bumped into him on my way out and from my boss too. Just surviving on water and mentality, I would have sulked my way through the shift. Today’s silver lining though came in the form of my boss’s little daughter making jokes and pulling faces at me, a complete force of happiness that has no idea what is up with me but she just wants to make me smile. And somehow it worked, having someone no matter who they are, there for you to pick you up makes a world of difference. It can distract you, take you away from yourself and bring you back to reality. I wasn’t thinking about myself anymore and instead I was focused on doing my job and making her smile too.

In my everyday life however, I have no such person to help me through dark times; I got lucky being at work today. I have had no one in my life since my best friend cut me off three years ago, no one to be there for me and to listen and hug me when I cry too. I have always since felt and been alone without someone around to be there for me.

Today after work ended, a friend of mine said to the group of the six of us, asking if anyone would like to go out for something to eat, like a late night snack just for something to do. This opportunity gave me a little hope that today might get a little better yet after everything that had happened. I was the only person to respond and over an hour later, I asked what was going on and everyone said no to gooing out. As is the usual case with the only friends that have ever stayed through everything, they cannot be bothered to get up and walk out of their rooms.  I honestly feel cursed to those five guys that I will never find anyone else interested in me, to go out and have a coffee with or do something physical rather thanjust talk online. Barely do I see them, forever they have been more of a voice over a microphone rather than physical people to interact with. We rarely go out and when we have plans, they often fall through due to one mysterious reason or another, hiding the truth that they just cannot be bothered. After having this toxic 21st century monstrosity for a group of guys that are supposed to be best mates, I am really tired of it. Tired of expecting the worst from them and getting my hopes up that the only people left in my life would actually want to make the effort to see me and be around me. Instead, my only friends remain a voice on social media and I am left alone in my room, hiding from my family and embracing invisibility.

Now you may begin to see why I still feel no signs of recovery, no rays of hope or a light at the end of the tunnel. Everything around me has been twisted and I suffer. I see people love their mothers, their fathers and siblings, trust, and I hide in my room indifferent about them after everything they have (or have not) done, living a life independant from them. My only friends don’t give me the light of day and in this world, I have a million and one times tried to branch out and meet new people, and that hope has always managed to prove me wrong, that my best is not good enough. This feeling of utter loneliness was amplified on my sofa today and made me irrationally fear the worst; that the next year of university will be worse, I will be depressed and sat in a dark room looking out of the window for hours again, hiding things, fearing people with a lack of trust and a cynical outlook, fail the course, fail the placement, be a disappointment and lose myself again. It is safe to say that what once was a beacon of hope has now become a dark tower of despair hanging over me. I am scared.

That attack earlier today was everything that I had been hiding for the past two weeks and yet again, I just want an outlet for my emotion through my inability to cry today and lack of arms to embrace, I am writing instead to voice this fear. Still awake at 2:47am, I am avoiding sleep and the outside world in my room, on my laptop listening to the rain and cars go past, life carrying on without me.

To end this post tonight on a different note instead with a little dark humour, I think I felt the same terror today as Frodo under the Eye of Sauron when he puts on the one ring, paralysed, unfathomably shaken and breathless. He fought through the darkest of times however and I never thought I would be comparing myself to a god damn Hobbit, but I guess I need to carry on through all of the suffering to eventually be happy at some point, whether that is dead or alive, anything is possible as I keep being reminded.

Much love from your friend,


Apathy, Frustration & The Chronic Struggle Of Everyday Life.

For the past ten days, I have felt apathetic about everything; my life, my future and my past. I have not really felt down like I have been for months now, just not motivated, no emotion and struggling with everyday life. My situation has not changed, I am still feeling invisible, unloveable and alone. I guess right now I feel distant from the world. 

Beginning with everyday life, I am struggling. Struggling to express myself and be who I want to be and even struggling with working, even though on average, I work around ten hours a week. It should be easy, I have worked there for over a year and a half, I have ludicrous amounts of free time and I just cannot cope with it. When I am at work, things just slip my mind, I lose all energy on the journey there and I just want to leave more than anything when I arrive. I really don’t care about the money.

This feeling of apathy takes me back to where I was at a year ago when nothing was happening in my life, I had no one to see, little work hours and tonnes of free time. I sometimes struggled with everyday life such as sleeping, working and socializing. But now, that feeling has been personified to physically hold me back from things I want to do and limit my ability to feel any real emotion. It has stopped me from writing anything in the past week and I suppose the only will I have had to do anything is to see my psychotherapist. I know I still want to be happy and feel something and so that it is probably what motivated me. I am clutching onto that fading hope that is mostly too pale to see that maybe one day I could feel true happiness. I just don’t believe it when anyone tells me things will get better. When anything has ever gotten better for me, in time I lose it and I am left all by myself again and I don’t know if I can go through that again, new friends, relationships and a career.

If I am to get better, I will need to make new friends that want to go out, involve e in their lives and just appreciate having someone who is always there for them. That is all I have ever tried to be and yet I have gotten nowhere, gone unnoticed.
I will need to fix my sleeping habits too so that I can be awake and active during the daytime. On average I have been waking up at around 1pm and going to bed at 5am. Yes I know, that is unhealthy, typical student. Sleeping tablets did not work and I just cannot fall asleep, I don’t want to see my dreams again. Instead I find something like the TV to waste all of my time with, procrastinate until I feel guilty that the sun is coming up and the birds are chirping outside my window. I don’t know how to feel determined to sleep by 1am when I am struggling and procrastinating seems like the better option. After all, I don’t have to wake up the next day, I don’t have anybody to see.

Instead, I hide in my room with my three meals a day, water, music, TV and bed until the sun comes up. It’s difficult to change when the only reason to change is that I don’t like myself living this way. Although I don’t like living at all so it’s not really a motivating factor to change either.

As much as I am now dreading the second year of university, the one thing about it that I am looking forward to is my own room, twice the size of what I am currently living in. A single bed and a wardrobe barely fit, I have no room to move and that just makes me feel frustrated and not willing to leave my bed when I am better off sat in it. At least at university I will be away from my family and despite the people I will be living with next year, I will get away to my own place to hide and have that freedom. Everything else about university, the people, the course, the pressure, it all feels like impending doom. University may be the lesser of two evils compared to living at home, but an evil is still an evil. And so I do not really feel any overwhelming emotion for my future, my present or my past. Something really needs to change quickly now; it has been an endless nightmare for as long as I can remember. When will I finally be able to function again, feel something and have someone?

Much love from your friend,