I am sick of suffering. I feel this everyday. I do stupid things like stare out of my window and gaze at the full moon and think to myself “oh if this was a wishing star it’d be nice to make a wish wouldn’t it? Like, I wish I was happy” 🙂
You’re 21 years old and pretending that the moon is a star. This isn’t an episode of Charmed, for Gawd’s sake, grow up Perks.
I’m trying to keep going regardless. Waking up, putting on some make up, getting to class early with my face all smiley and my bag all packed with the essentials. I’m looking for somewhere to eat so I head in to the SU bar and muse over what to eat, checking my phone as I do so. I can feel the dozens of chattering students’ eyes on me. Why is she by herself? What is she doing? I walk outside again, cross the food venues and check the menus. Nope, it’ll have to be my usual order at the SU bar again. So I head in and survey the scene, hoping to see a friendly face. I spot a girl I’m not too close to but is in the same sort of friendship circle that I tag along with in my Lit classes
because I have no friends,
She sees me and moves her stuff off the sofa so I can sit down and suddenly I feel anxious. She’s quite a blunt sort of gal and I’m not even sure she wanted me to come and invade her personal space. I babble about looking for a friendly face and fix her a smile but the whole thing sounds stupidly lame. We sit for a bit and one of my other friends (who I am closer to) calls her and asks where she is. As she is directed to where we are sitting, I feel a tinge of sadness. It’s like these girls are in a group of their own, they always contact each other and arrange things and I am stuck on the outside in a despondent circle of fire. I wish I was confident enough to be part of someone’s inner circle. These girls have these inside jokes and shit and I’m not confident enough to wade in.
Class is ok. I sit next to the friend I’m closest to but I am again on the far edge so I can barely hear the whispering and musings said. It’s okay. I don’t know what’s going on anyway.
After class we go to the SU bar again and chill for a bit. I leave for the library after a while and sit by myself, reading Frankenstein by Mary Shelley. It’s a lovely book. 10/10 recommend.
I go home after a couple of hours or so. Tesco run to pick up some food. I’m a bit startled to see the girl in my lit class circle at the checkouts. I feel anxious because I know I don’t have much healthy food in my bag. I hope she’s not judging me. I know what you’re thinking. What a stupid thing to feel anxious about. But I’ve heard her talk about things and I wouldn’t put it past her to rate the contents of my shopping bag!
Go home. Watch Bojack Horseman. Feel depressed again. Go for a shower. Go over everything that happened in first year of university in my head again. Feel sad because the guy I used to call my best friend has changed a lot and our relationship has changed and he’s so busy we haven’t had a proper conversation since I got back from Australia. He used to be the only person who understood me and my mental health concerns. Now it’s got to the point where I feel a rush of anxiety texting him to meet up because its always me initiating it and I feel clingy as fuck. I know it’s not me entirely. He has explained he is concentrating on work most of the time and not really meeting up with anyone but still. I’m only asking for a few hours of his time. We used to be able to just meet up and talk and watch funny ass shows all the time. Now it almost feels like I’m begging him to meet me. I’m not asking to be saved. I just want to lessen the pain. But maybe he’s not the person to do it anymore. And in that case, who can really understand?
I go through the usual breakdown of worrying about final year and my grades. Earlier I bumped into a friend who got invited to a prestigious ‘Dean’s List’ dinner and it was because she excelled in her previous year. I feel shit again because I’m reminded that I didn’t do as well as I could have. Because of my fucked up mental and physical health. I know it’s not my fault. But at the end of the day I worked so hard. I have nothing to be proud of.
None of this makes sense, I know. It’s a stupid stream of consciousness shit. Not even bothering to check this post really. It’s just a buzz of angry thoughts and anxiety and sadness. Maybe I do have some sort of personality disorder. Either way, what’s the point of being alive if life is making me feel this shit?