It’s been a while since I wrote a blog, I normally do one a year or something anyway. I’m going to open up about my fucked up brain. Since September my depression has crept up on me like the swamp water it is.
So far as to having to go on a combination of anti depressants. The last 3 weeks has been exhausting, I feel like I’m stuck in tar and pulling myself along inch by inch. I barely have the motivation or energy to get out of bed some days but I force myself too, because I have to a degree to finish.
I don’t feel comfortable with talking to people about my mental health because in my family it was taboo. We had to put a brave face on pretend everything was okay like proper hardy Yorkshire folk. Even when my mum tried to kill herself we never really spoke about it, just sat around a table and looked at each other like it never happened.
So it’s got to a point in my head now where if I don’t get this shit out of my brain I’m not sure what will happen, it feels like my thoughts are spiralling around at 100mph but my body can’t keep up with it. It’s my version of the word ‘insane’ because that’s what I feel is happening. I can’t make sense of my life, I really want to do things but I feel exhausted at the thought of doing it. I’m lonely, I have friends and family but I feel alone. And I’m so very sad, so unhappy. I cry at ridiculous things like not getting the pots washed or not vacuuming. I’m relying on these pills, these wonderful brain enhancing chemical miracles.
Anyway, if you feel the same right now, I feel you, you’re not alone.
I am currently in exam stress hell at uni. I now understand why students drink a lot. Its because trying to cram 2 semesters worth of knowledge into your brain within 5 days is very fucking stressful.
So apparently we should be remembering and revising slides as we go through the semester, week by week. I would like to meet the person who actually said this and thought it was possible, I bet they didn’t have 3 assignments and a presentation in all at once, I bet they don’t have kids, I doubt they ever cleaned and I’m pretty fucking sure they didn’t have a life. I can see the cunt now, sat at their desk surrounded by nutritional, healthy snacks, post-it notes marking every paragraph and every page with the extra reading, furiously scribbling away and highlighting their favourite words to add to their collection of smug student dialect to throw out in the middle of a wine and cheese night.
Don’t get me wrong I don’t hate these people, I’m just bitter, because I wish I had my shit together like them, instead I procrastinate, I watch netflix, I get sucked into random youtube videos when searching for the cellular pathway of proliferation and I’m writing this. I have my last exam this week and genuinely feel like I can’t fit anymore in my head, my brain feels like a melting scoop of ice cream in the sun, just dripping and running out of my ears while I slowly talk absolute bollocks because I can’t even communicate a coherent sentence anymore.
Then there is sitting in the exam, I dare not look around in case the invigilators suspect me of cheating, with their suspicious looks at you as if you’re telepathically sending answers to everyone. My mind empties into this black chasm were information was once held, I go blank and sit staring at the persons head in front of me trying to bore the answers out of their brain by staring at them. I’m 36, I cannot for the life of me remember what I did last week so how the fuck am I supposed to remember the cellular pathway????
Just writing this makes me want to go out and get shit faced. It’s a gorgeous day out and I’m inside studying, its bank holiday and I’m inside studying instead of being at the beer garden or festivals with friends. It is soul destroying and exhausting. Rant done.
It’s been a whole year since I blogged/vlogged whatever the fuck you do. Uni has been an absolute killer stress bitch, I’ve been asking myself lately if I’m smart enough to do this? I had my confidence knocked yesterday when I failed a test but the events leading up to it weren’t helpful at all.
This week I have my landlord coming for some shit. My 14 yr old who we will call wank beast was forced to clean his room. After much Kevinesque whining he did it and came down with 6 bin bags full of rubbish. SIX FUCKING BIN BAGS. Wank beast of the dump I called him. I’m harbouring a lazy hoarder, I asked him if he had mice in there who he was trying make feel at home. Honestly I have no idea how he lives in such a shit pit. I went in to check he had finished and he had draped sheets around the bottom bunk of his bed. Hiding away in his little festering wank pit like that precious bloke from Lord of the Rings. I was horrified by the whole scenario not because of the wanking but because 1) he wasn’t really a kid anymore and 2) I felt like I’d been so busy with my life I’d neglected his.
I suppose my point is, that no matter how busy I am, I need to pull my head out of my arse and check in with the wank beast.
Apparently this is my very first post. So I will tell you what to expect, not much to be honest, I’m a bit boring, just some random thoughts that I have throughout my life that I thought I could share with the world. I’m 30something with older teen like children, I try and play roller derby and go to uni. I’m recently single and think I may have stumbled across my mid life crisis. Who knows? Well we shall see.
I suppose todays rant could be about going back to the dating scene, I’ve been chatting with a few males, every time I arrange a date to meet them they just stop talking. Nothing. No messages, just a vast empty void of internet. Why is this? why make an arrangement to meet someone then stop chatting to them? Am I completely out of the loop that this is now the in thing to do? Is everyone just now meeting through subliminal messages or psychics? I don’t own a crystal ball and doubt I ever will, when did this shit become so complicated? When did people stop doing the whole ‘I fancy you, want to go for a pint?’ Anyway I suppose my point is, stop being so bloody over complicated and say a spade is a spade.