People are always telling me that I need to be a little more open, talk about my feelings, allow myself to be more vulnerable. And I ignore them. I hate the idea of allowing someone else to know me, giving them the chance to hurt me. But sometimes you don’t expect someone to get under your skin so much and so quickly. When that happens, you have to hope that they feel the same and that they let you know where you stand, before slowly go crazy.
Me? I’m still waiting. And going crazy.
-F
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For years and years now, people have seen me as the kind of person who craves excitement, spontinaity and the unexpected. I guess to a degree this is true, i like travelling, having little adventures and experiencing this whole wide world as much as I can, but what i’ve recently realised is how much I crave stability.
It’s strange that this is a part of myself I never really paid attention to before. Maybe I was trying to supress it because i’ve been told my whole life that i’m someone different, suddenly I find comfort in the welcoming arms of my old friends, who i’d once thought were boring me. I miss old routines and habits, and most of all, I have begun to despise the uncertainty in my future. A year or so ago, this was something I cherished, and enjoyed spending time mulling over, considering the possibilities that life had laid out before me. Now, I find myself wanting to know where i’ll be in a month, a year, or ten.
Maybe this is part of growing up, or maybe this is me finally waking up to what I really want? In a sense stability is the thing that’s always been missing in my life, in one way or another, and the grass is always greener on the other side. I don’t want to make the mistake of thinking what I want is a suddenly settled future and a path already carved for me, only to wake up one day and discover i’m missing that excitment, that uncertainty and that ignorance that I have now.
-J
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It’s been snowing for the past week in the UK…in case you hadn’t noticed. The trains are all messed up and it’s bitterly cold. But that won’t stop me from going out and enjoying myself. What will stop me is that noone else will brave 5 inches of snow to walk ten minutes down the road!
Failures. All of you!
- F
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First of all, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to our (let’s face it, almost non-existent) readers!
I was home alone for a week and a half over the holiday, during which time my laptop decided to die. So I had no connection with the outside world. When I went back to Birmingham for all of 10 days I was still cut off because I was back to the routine of not seeing my friends and having a curfew. I kept in touch via bouts of facebook and texting.
It’s amazing how reliant I have become on technology to maintain friendships, but also how I can survive quite well without human contact.
Thank God for TV!
-F
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Sometimes, someone will come along and tell you the truth of your own situation so blatantly and bluntly that it knocks the wind out of you. Instead of reassurance and confirmation of what you already know, some people take advice to a new level, and tell you not only what you didn’t want to hear, but also what you never even began to see. This scared me shitless when it happened last week, and it was bizzare for someone so far removed from my own emotions and so unfamiliar to my life so be able to see so clearly, what those closer to me havn’t managed to articulate.
The harsh and grating truth can sometimes force you to confront things you didn’t even realise were issues. After a quick wave of despair, (how did I not realise all these things, why have I let this happen to myself) a sense of relief emerges and I suddenly feel more empowered to sort my shit out, ironically enough, only because someone had the guts to show me how much of myself i’ve lost.
To paraphrase the wise words ‘you’ve been sucked into a black hole, and you are barely even existing anymore’. Acceptance has led me to realise how out of control i’ve been, and has made me see how to snatch it back for myself. There is a light, somewhere in that black hole, and even though I can’t see it yet, knowing it’s there is enough to keep me fighting.
-J
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I just got back from visiting my family in Birmingham for the first time since I moved here. There’s nothing like a hobo pissing down a side street on a friday night to make you feel at home!
It was awful, going back. Nothing has changed. Even my bedroom is the same, my sister hasn’t been allowed to claim the top bunk as her own. “Mum says “Uni students are only at uni for 9 months a year.” ” I’m still treated as though I’m a child, like the fact that I cook, clean, do the bills and laundry makes no difference to my sense of independence, and that I must be withering away to nothing without my parent’s money and cooking; my shameful, uncultural haircut is proof of that. (Never mind the fact that I cooked for my whole family for years and my eating habits have improved vastly since I left home. And I have saved lots of money.) Everyone still holds on to the idea that I will go “home” every holiday and when I’m done with my degree I will simply go “home”, back to my family, where I belong. They still refuse to recognise that this is my life out here, not just somewhere I sleep.
It made me realise a lot of things. As stated in previous blogs, I’ve been feeling like shit lately, because I’m bored and have noone to talk to. When I lived with my parents though, I was so much more miserable. I never ever want to go back to that feeling of suffocation and utter futility. And I realised that I’m not enjoying uni because college used to be my escape from the misery of home. I always had someone to massage my ego, someone to cheer me up, someone to push me on. I don’t have that here. I aways thought, and I suppose everyone else thought too, that I’m someone who doesn’t need reassurance from others. I’ve always been the stoic one who just gets on with life and doesn’t take any shit from anyone. Actually I’m coming to realise that I’m quite dependant on other people. I don’t neccessarily listen to others’ advice or anything, but I need someone to push me along and be there to make me feel a little less alone.
But I’m coming to realise that what I want most of all is to be here. Going back made me remember so much why I want, why I need to be here, and move forward with my life.
Enough rambling for now. I’m so much more motivated to work, coming back.
-F
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I haven’t done much work lately..or much of anything really. I sit around watching tv and eating rubbish because I just don’t want to do anything. I’ve been sleeping in every day, and I’m constantly tired. It’s not that I’m unhappy or don’t like my work. It’s just so unbelievably lonely and boring here. Nothing happens where I live, and I have noone to talk to.
I make friends really easily, but then don’t actually make any real connections. I’ve always been fine to take a back seat and listen to everyone else’s “problems” and “feelings”. Talking about myself just makes me vunerable, in my mind anyway…but that has blown up in my face, and I’m realising that maybe I need to start opening up and making the effort to connect to people…
In other news, next saturday I’m going to (Ice) Skate at Somerset House DJ Night with my housemates! Should be wicked wicked.
-F
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There’s a mysterious, unclaimed bottle of wine in the fridge that noone can explain…
Anyway.
Today, for no particular reason, I was thinking about how people think I’m malnourished because I’m so small and skinny. And then they proceed to scrutinize my eating habits, looking for any sign of anorexia or something to “justify” my size. But the thing is, I’m not malnourished, I’m perfectly healthy (if slightly small). I eat a very balanced and varied diet.
The only thing is, although I eat very often, I eat smaller portions than most people. Which doesn’t mean I’m unhealthy or on an obsessive diet- it’s actually very reasonable portions, but as with many things, the option which is unhealthier has become normalized. I never finish a whole meal at a restauraunt because the portions are huge, but it’s perfectly normal to most people…but then, as people get bigger, being obese is normalized and people like me are treated with suspicion.
It’s not about wanting to be skinny like the girls in magazines, for me it’s about the fact that obesity, diabetes, high blood pressure, and so many other things which result from a bad diet runs in my family.
I was also musing about feminism today but that’s another blog…
-F
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Why Amsterdam is better than London:
Pretty pretty – It’s just so gosh-darn quaint and lovely!
Cafe culture – Everything tastes so much nicer and everywhere has character. There aren’t generic chain restauraunts selling crap.
Freshly squeezed orange juice – You get everything fresh in The ‘Dam.
Canals – Britain has canals, yes, but they aren’t as pretty as in Holland.
Public transport – Double deck trains, mofo!
Cycling – Having not cycled for nigh on 10 years, and certainly never through traffic, I am unbelievably proud of myself for not dying.
Smiling – Yes, people actually smile in Holland. How dare they!
Why Amsterdam sucks:
Money – The Dutch don’t have a concept of “cheap and cheerful”…
KLM – Silly airline put my luggage on a later flight! How rude.
Zwarte Pete – If you don’t know, please, don’t ask. It makes me so angry.
Things that terrified me:
The Sex Museum – Don’t go there! Just don’t!
-F
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When I was visiting my family back home this weekend, I remembered i’d left a notebook there, in my old bedroom, which i’d filled during my year out. I’d written in it quite often, not so much a diary, just a record of what I was thinking or feeling at certain points. It was really important to me then, to be able to reflect and make sense of the big mess that was my life last year.
I started looking for that notebook, but I couldnt find it anywhere in my room. At first I panicked, I couldnt imagine never being able to look back over the state my mind was in then, to remember how confusing but exciting and mesmerising life seemed for a few short months. But, actually, i’m kind of glad i’ve lost it. Looking back on those days wouldn’t bring me much in the way of benefit. I know what i’ve learnt and what I went through, it’s deeply ingrained in me now and it effects everything I say and do. The consequences of that year are all here, right now, and going through that book would do nothing but make me yearn for a time that is gone, and should remain so. I tend to forget how hard and miserable those first few months were, and I dont want to dwell on a romanticised version of the past, instead of moving on.
-J
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