15 Jun 2015

There's a fly in my room. It's stupid and won't leave.

Ever since I wrote my last post, I’ve wanted to take it down. Edit it, break it apart and put it back together. But I don’t know whether that’s out of embarrassment, a feeling of failure/weakness/being pathetic, or whether it’s because I want order. I desperately want order and perfection and sense and logic and stability. I’m obsessed with it. I want meaning. If not for others, for myself. But I’m at the point now where I’m realising sometimes that’s not possible. I’m not okay with it, but I know life doesn’t work like that.

I’m struggling. Admitting it, right now. S t r u g g l i n g. I moved back home two weeks ago after three years at university and I am like a deer in headlights. And sure, I’m no different from any other graduand (that’s a real life word describing someone who has finished their degree but is yet to graduate, apparently ¯\_()_/¯). Unless you are sound in yourself, your career path, your surroundings, your opportunities (delete as applicable, just one would do), of course you’d be a deer in headlights. Hell, even if you ARE sound in yourself, your career path, etc, you can feel like a deer in headlights.  Life is fucking tough. This world is scary and mostly awful (if you need any pessimism, I have a lot to share around), and you can feel like and be the most independent little shit and still feel terrified about your future lying on just your shoulders now. No more fall back of education (if you’re not carrying on – and if you are, why, are you okay?) and knowing what’s coming next. I HAVE LITERALLY NO IDEA WHAT’S COMING NEXT, and no that doesn’t excite me, it terrifies me and has had me crying most days since I came home.

8 Jun 2015

White toast smothered in butter, please.

It’s 10:04 on Monday 8th June 2015 and I’ve just come round from 

come through the other side of


recovered from

about managed to stop shitting, being numb, my chest from feeling like an overweight, pregnant, giant elephant has set up camp on it, any adrenaline that’s actually left in my body from speeding around and punching parts of my body like an angry small child in the playground, and my mind and body from being in the most intense stand-off with each other since….well…since the last time I had a panic attack.