Trapped in the mind frozen in place

I’m having a bad night.

I’ve had sleep paralysis again. It was pretty bad this time, I was having a nightmare at the same time. I could barely breathe I thought I was being strangled, I couldn’t make any sound and none of my muscles would work. In between trying to wake up, move and shout something was underneath my desk staring at me inching closer. I had a dream inside a dream inside a dream. It was horrible. I thought I had finally woke up but it was still the dream. Each time I woke up something was different. My blanket covered my face, the shadow creature was next to me, something pressed down on my chest and music was playing one time. But the worst part was when I managed to get up out of bed run over to the light switch, finally thinking I was awake only to turn back straight into the shadow and wake in the dream again. All this in between me actually opening my eyes trying to escape the dream.

I was shaking afterwards. I slapped my the sides of my face and scratched my arm to see if I was actually awake this time. I put my slippers on and jacket and have been sat in the kitchen with a few of my nocturnal flat mates. I don’t know whether they like me or are civil, but sitting with them made me feel calm and happy.

I’m okay now. Too stressed and if I’m honest, too scared to go back asleep. So I’m going to watch some Disney films until I am sleepy. This was only a bad night however. I have been doing great with my mental stuff. I guess that’s why I feel so annoyed that this is happened.

It has happened before, usually when I’m really anxious. I hate it so much. I hate feeling trapped in my own body unable to breathe. This post is a mess.


Putting up a fight

Ugghhhhhhhhhhhhhh… Why is it. That as soon as I feel like I’m doing pretty good. My issues and insecurities come and punch me in the gut? 

I’ll be honest. I’ve had worse lows. This isn’t actually too bad. Because while my depression and anxiety is trying to knock me down I’m punching back. Two things are hitting me. On the left fist is extreme lack of motivation and on the right is my very strong self hatred. 

The motivation thing isn’t too bad. I just need to get my ass in gear. Plus fear of failure usually kicks in with the pressure and I get it done. Self hatred however. Damn. It’s like a wall that occasionally jumps in front of me on my road to nowhere. It’s a large strong wall. Covered in rotting vines. It’s my worst enemy. 

I have tried fighting it in little ways. Like accepting my flaws and giving up things. Like hey, yea, so what I’m pretty ugly, my body is gross and my personality is rotten. (I’m preeetty aware this an unhealthy way to deal with it. But it works). The better way I’ve been dealing with it is accepting little things about myself and learning to like them. I’m pretty okay at drawing. My imagination and stories I make are the best and amazing. Still trying to find good things about my appearance.

I guess I’m still finding my way with these things. I’m getting better! But right now my core feels like a black hole and I kinda want to cry because, shit I hate myself so much it’s ridiculous. But I’m rolling with these punches and fighting back. 

2018? I’m fighting full force. It’s my year. The year I learn to love myself and kill my depression. 

Home for Christmas 

I did it. I made it through my first semester of university just 5 more till I finish it. Sure I have some assignments but it’s Christmas! They can wait. 

These past few months have been wobbly but I think I’m getting the hang of being a functioning human being. With university I thought by now I’d be a failure or dead. But I’m doing pretty good! I’m getting top grades and high marks for all of my modules! Which is so amazing and uplifting considering I spent my gap year think I was completely stupid and worthless! The workload is stressful but I’m getting used to it! 

Uni life itself has been easy to get used to. I love being at home and I love my family but the independence and adventure of university is so great. I go on adventurous  and funny quests with my best BOI (n fellow writer) and have late night chats about our stories n life. I have a couple of friends on my course they are lovely too! But I’m happy I  have been able to see my college friends recently I missed them. 

With my OCD, anxiety and depression I think I’m getting better. My therapy has finally started after months of waiting. I’ll admit I’ve had my lows but I’m getting better at dealing with it all. I’m stopping the downward spiral thoughts of self hate and depression and learning that, hey, maybe I’m not so bad? 

I’m really proud of how far I’ve come from the start of uni where The Wednesday™ and multiple breakdowns and bad days occurred. To being pretty good at my work, having adventures, fighting my mental health and starting to enjoy life. 

Now I’m sat snug with the Christmas lights and tree on. In a house full of my favourite people (and cats) on Christmas Eve eve. I feel really happy to be home for Christmas. 


Living at university is weird. At the same time as feeling I have two homes it also feels like I have none. To add to that I’m drowning in work as well. 

When I’m at home I feel more like a visitor or guest. I love being at home with my family but I don’t feel like I can talk to them about my problems that much at the moment. I don’t know why. There’s nothing wrong with my family. I can talk to my mum though. Then at university while my room feels like the closest thing to my space it also feels horribly claustrophobic. Sometimes incredibly lonely. I miss my family being around. Me and my fave boii have came up with a code to help each other escape from our cabin fever and go on a walk, which helps. 

This probably sounds stupid. I’m really stressed lately. Most students are. With deadlines coming up fast and my motivation dropping faster. My back, neck and shoulders are in constant pain from being so tense. I’m getting migraines and nose bleeds. Which is nice. Reminds me of GCSE and A levels if I’m being honest. I have left exams with a clump of blood covered tissues thanks to stress and a shitty nose. It’s just a lot. I don’t want to fail. But I’m scared I might. I don’t think I’m good enough and I can’t get any motivation at the moment. But I’m trying to drag myself through. 

This has just been a shit ramble. Plus I’m probably overtired, overdramatic and overthinking. Plus I kinda suck. 

It’s Getting Better

I’ve got a lot to say. It’s a whole bucket full of updates. It’s been a while since I have posted on here. Things have been tough but I’m ok. Things are getting better! 

University life is hectic and fun but I’ve gotten used to it. Even if it takes me a day to find the motivation to do work then procrastinate till I fall asleep. It’s miracle. But I’m getting good grades!! I’ve been getting too marks for my story writing and planning. I have got As in digital communications. Shocking. Specially because I have literally no idea what’s going on in that class. Before reading week I also did a seminar group presentation! I swear it was terrifying. I had an anxiety attack over it. But with a lil dutch courage and no choice I did it! We were 2 marks off 100! I don’t know what I’m doing but it’s working. 

With my mental fuckups. I’m doing better. After ages of waiting my therapy has finally started. My depression knocks me down somedays but that’s okay. I brush my self off and keep going. My OCD isn’t too bad. It’s kicked off recently when people have been in my room. The other week a couple of friends were in there. Nothing was wrong. It was fun and friendly. But after they left I had a panic attack. I’m learning how to deal with it. My flatmates are pretty good too. They kinda know not to touch my things or dishes. I hope I don’t annoy them. But I really appreciate them respecting my space. Anxiety sucks. But it’s okay. 

Self hatred isn’t getting me down as much. I’ve found that accepting I’m shit in every aspect has helped me to care less. I’ve also decided it’s not going to stop me living. Yeah I suck. But we’re all dying. Fast. So I’m not gonna let my hate stop me from living. I can work on things I dislike. Maybe learn to love myself. But I’m going to enjoy living no matter what. 

I’ll admit. A few things have popped up. Recently. Some things I can do nothing to help. Some issues that are gonna take time. But that’s okay. 

This was a big ramble of useless information. But yeah. Life is getting better and I’m growing and bettering myself too 🙂

Captain without a crew

I’ve set sail to a life of adventure but I have done it alone. Today hasn’t been great my OCD has started kicking again. Its a horrible mix of wanting a hug and not wanting to be touched. Making friends is so hard. I feel so alone all the time.

I must sound like a spoilt kid. Its shocking to think I’m nineteen and at university. After having a gap year an not having to wear masks and just be myself its uncomfortable to wear them again. My mum reassures me that its just because of my anxieties and introvertedness that I feel so alone.  But I think its just because I’m so unlikable.

I haven’t joined any societies yet. All of the walking, studying and general university life is exhausting. So I have probably missed out on making friends there. After my unwelcoming welcome week my flat mates probably hate me. Or think I’m ‘special’. I feel so out of the loop with things.

I hate being so introverted. I want to be like other students partying and being confident and just making friends easily. But I don’t. I hate clubbing I feel so out of place. I’m not confident at all. I often wonder if anyone has ever hated themselves as much as I hate myself. I’m worried that I’m overthinking things and in turn acting weird and making my flatmates think I hate them. I don’t.

I have set sail into this life of adventure. Many people have crews now. All together enjoying this journey. While I’m stood on a sinking ship. Without a crew. Without a hope. Why am I so bad at being human. I can’t do anything right or when I think I have something else messes up. I hate myself so much.

At least I’m going home for the weekend. To be with the people I can feel comfortable around because its my family. My safe place. My sanctuary.

I don’t know if I’ll be able to come back.

High and really low 

This is my first post at university. Needless to say this first week has been a mess. A scary exciting slow mess. But I’m starting to get the hang of it. 

So my first day. If you read my last post it was obvious that I was terrified. My mum came with me and while it was fun being with her and getting all of my stuff and decorating my room. I thought I couldn’t handle it alone. I don’t think I have cried so much in one day. I went to bed with a red sore cheeks and tired bloodshot eyes. My mum didn’t leave until 5pm. Once she left I cried some more. But I went out with my flat mates and got to know them. I didn’t sleep that night. 

My second day was low but not as bad. I cried when I woke up I didn’t know what to do with myself. But I got through the day. I have to say I feel blessed that I have such nice flat mates. They are all so friendly and chill it really puts my anxiety at ease. I cried some more before bed. 

I also spoke to the warden of my flats. She is really nice and had been at uni for 3 years and is a total pro. She told me about the student support plan? That I can get help while I’m at uni and that it might put my depression at ease. So I have signed up to that. 

Monday and Tuesday were a blur of making friends and learning about my school! It’s been fun! I thought I was finally doing well! But obviously I would wreck everything for myself. 

Wednesday was awful. Just everything kept going wrong. That night I drank to much and ended up having a break down. I was so drunk. I cried my heart out. I kept calling the wardens angels and good eggs (they come to fuckups like me when we are having a sitch) I kept telling people I was related to pirates? ( must’ve been all the rum I drank) I told them that these mental illnesses are killing me and I don’t want to die but if I could stop existing and my family would be okay I would. 

All in all it was an embarrassing, drunken tearful, wreck of a night. But yknow what. As ashamed of myself as I was. (And sick. Very sick) I don’t feel awful. I’m still embarrassed that I made a fool of myself. But who hasn’t! People have done worse things when drunk. All I did was cry. So I’m not going to let my self hate get the best of me. People mess up. People do dumb things when drunk. To er is human. I’m no exception. So yes I had a wreck of a Wednesday night and made a fool of myself. But I feel better after getting it out of my system. Quite literally. But I will learn from this and grow. 

Yesterday was a better day! I met with a mental health adviser at my university and we have sorted some things. Today my mum is visiting me and I am going to relax. 

This week has been rocky and had the worst lows and some pretty good highs. I’ve made a fool of myself and cried loads. But I have made loads of friends! My flat mates are great, my courses are interesting and awesome. After this week I feel slightly better. 

I have had worse years. 2014 scarred me. But I got through. So three years at university doing a course I love, thriving in independence and adventure. I think I can handle it. 

Downpour to drizzle 

I have been low. Very low. So low in fact that if I sunk any further I would probably disappear. I haven’t been this bad in a while. Never cried this much. I’ve felt nothing and everything at once. It’s like I have a storm cloud above my head. 

I’m starting to feel less low. My mood is rising and the storm is calming. I’ve got my first therapy appointment booked and I’m starting to feel slightly excited for university. I have no idea where the huge build up of fear and worry has come. Maybe I’m just feeling this burst of life because I am at the end, it’s too late to back out so I might as well roll with it. Like in fantasy films, where a character is going to die anyway so they fight to the death. 

Anyway, I think this storm has passed now. Things aren’t great. But they aren’t as bad. It will be nice to talk to someone about my problems. Even if the room will be flooded with my tears and depressing vibe. I’m getting back up again. Walking down my road. Off to whatever the future holds. (Probably a lotta tears but whatever). 

I need to start helping myself. Talking to a therapist can only do so much. I need to create goodness within me while people are helping with the goodness outside. I am trying to love myself. There’s not much to love but I’m working on it. I’m trying to be chill more which is hard when inside I’m constantly a flame with stress and tension. With the whole OCD touching thing. I will try to think rationally. But being honest I still don’t think the things I have a problem with are a problem. My reaction to them however. Is bad. 

I need to realise I have support and love around me. My family and a therapist will help. Maybe I will finally help myself instead of bottling up my feelings. I have friends I could speak to. But they only know so much, there’s things I can’t tell them and things I don’t want them to know. I don’t want to burden them with my weakness. 

Either way I guess this blog post is just saying that I’ll get back up again. I’m back and ready to try. You know what they say, you can’t have a rainbow without a little rain. 

A good egg

I’m affectionate. Loving. Some would say over emotional and sometimes I feel a lot in one go.

I have been thinking a lot. Like usual. And maybe it’s because it’s my favourite time of the year, or because with the weather getting warmer my icy heart is staring to thaw. But I realised I have some great friends. A real bunch of good eggs.

Through each stage of your life you make different friends and with that there is a different version of yourself with each friend group. It’s still you just some people bring out different parts about you. From wanting to look like a living doll to becoming a meme.

But I have gotten back in touch with old friends and I’m staying strong with my newer friends. I find it hard to make friends. Either because of the fact I am completely incapable of speaking to people without stuttering or over sharing or just because I don’t like people. But when I make friends? Whoo boy. Do I love them with all my heart? Yes. Would I kill for them? Probably. Will I pray that we stay friends forever like a five year old? Most likely.

But the people I met at college are probably the best people I have ever met. Different. In friend groups it’s easy for people to be alike but they are so individual and beautiful in their own way. And they get me. Like me for me. I don’t have to change myself around them. I’m pretty sure I was going to make a point with this blog post. But now I’m just gushing on how I love my friends.

I mean you know they are good when they listen to your puns and don’t leave you!