I’ve been trying to be happy lately. It’s kinda working. I ignore my bad thoughts or I’ve been distancing myself. I have a great imagination so it’s easy to drift from reality time to time.
I’m not as upset with myself. I still hate myself but I’m trying to handle it better. I’ve been reading a lot of books, writing my stories and drawing again. It’s helping. I feel good about myself when I’m writing my stories and drawing. I can see myself improving. It’s nice to feel good at something.
Especially since I haven’t felt excited for anything lately. I haven’t been speaking to my friends as much. Whether that is just through lack of conversation or they have finally seen how much of a loser I am and decided to ditch me I don’t know. It’s comic con this weekend too. I have probably the best cosplay I have ever had. I’m still not excited. Because something will probably go wrong. Or I’ll just look terrible as usual.
I have 3 main stories. With 2 being linked and set in the same universe only 300 years apart. I live through them sometimes. Strong protagonists go on wild adventures, make interesting friends and usually are noticed and loved by many. Most of my stories come from dreams. With me being the protagonist and people I know being in it too. If I think it’s good I write it down. Change the characters to suit the story. Then I build from there.
I believe writers base a lot of there stories and things within them off their own lives and people they know. Frankly one of my protagonists is what I wish I was. Strong, smart, respected by many, looked up too and beautiful. I like to escape into my fantasies. I create stories with depth, character development and interesting tales. It makes me happy. Because I know I’m good at something.
I think I am being creative again because it makes me happy. Embarrassed because I hope people don’t think I’m being stupid. But happy nonetheless. It feels good to feel good about myself.
Slowly I am opening up to the concept of loving myself and likening who I am. I know now that no one cares about me. (Except for my family of course) So I should care about myself and make myself feel good. I think I’m really imaginative and great at creating stories!
And you know what? It feels really good to like something about myself! I haven’t felt pride like this in a while. Hopefully this feeling grows because it would be nice to be happy in reality and not just in my fantasies.
I’m defeated, discouraged and disheartened. I’m so angry. I can’t move. My days are timeless lonely nothingness. I have no routine and other than the scream of university I have nothing. I’m so fucking alone and sad constantly. I have no motivation to do anything. I feel like I am dead.
I am trying to change things. The other day I went to the doctors to seek help for my problems. I cried. It was really hard to tell someone about it. To sit with someone who doesn’t know and just say how I hate myself so much and feel like I’m never going to amount to anything. How I am constantly on the verge of crying and just want to do nothing even though that makes it worse. I don’t find anything fun anymore. It’s just a way to pass the time so I can go to bed. How I have huge problem with people touching me or things. I have to wash my hands constantly. I have to clean my face all the time. People touching me makes me cry and want to have a shower. I just feel so shit. I feel like I’m lying in my grave just waiting to die.
My mum came with me to the appointment. I love my mum she is being really supportive through all of this. (Wish I could say the same about the rest of my fam. They just think I’m being silly with my touching and cleanliness stuff. They pull faces and moan. It makes me uncomfortable and guilty. But whatever.) She is the person I go to for all my help. She held my hand and helped me explain. I’m gonna be getting therapy for a while. So that will hopefully help.
I just feel so sad. I just wanna cry and hug someone. I’m so scared of the future. I’m so tired of my life now. I’m not alone but I feel so lonely. I hate being in my house because I’m always there with nothing to do but sit and think. I have no motivation to do anything. My mind is just a mess. A storm and with every crack of thunder and crash of lightning the rain is getting heavier. I cry so much it’s pathetic.
I hope tomorrow is a nice day so I can sit out side. I hope the sun comes out soon.
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!
If you have been readin my posts (god knows why) you would see that I have been sat in a metaphorical ditch. One of those ditches that get deeper as you try to climb out. But I have finally dragged myself out of it.
After feeling bad for a while and not really doing anything. Ever. I have started being productive again! I have been excepted in my first choice university! I’m even visiting them soon, checking out the nearby student studios and getting to know the city around it. I also got a job again! I have worked at this place before so I’m happy to be going back! (Also I’m very thrilled to have money again. For a spendthrift I’m pretty poor)
Even though there is a part of me that is pretty much ready to sleep for a thousand years I’m excited to be productive and maybe sort my life out! Now that I only have to pick my accommodation I’m really excited about university too! Probably a good idea to start going over all of my media stuff so I turn up like a pro. Hopefully that ditch was the only one on my road to nowhere. (Probably not)
It’s finally gone. Good riddance. I have sent my UCAS and now my future is in fates hands. (Fate being the university admission staff). I feel both relieved and nervous. Relieved that I no longer have to make a personal statement about myself. Because no matter what way I read it I still cringe. But I’m nervous because it’s opening my eyes to university being real.
That probably sounds dumb. But in my gap year it has felt like a dream. I have worked and done the odd media related thing (like creating a personal blog the throw up my thoughts into) but I have had no rush. No schedule. No having to wake early and get work done in time. It’s weird breaking from the 13 years education I have been in and I believe it has made me like education more. When you have spent your life basing your worth on a grade it makes you feel quite dumb when you are no longer being graded.
I don’t miss the stress. Or the boring parts. But I do miss having that schedule. Because being completely free to do what I please is fun but I have no urgency, not much of a will to live at times either. I miss that I guess.