2012
What a fucked up year you’ve been. You made me happy, you
made me sad, you made me cry, you made me smile, you made me cry even more. I
dumped someone, I got dumped and I dropped out of uni. All before Easter! Must
be a record. A good start to the year rapidly became the shittest start to a
year, ever. I was mentally, physically and emotionally all over the place, and
I don’t think any of this was a good thing. I seem to recall lots of double and
triple vodkas being consumed, neat. I remember downing 15 pints of cider before
moving to the next pub for the next 15. I remember raiding Cotteridge at 2am
for emergency pizza. I remember getting it.
January was a complete and utter balls up from the get go. I had 6 days
off for Christmas while the rest of uni had 4 weeks. I was absolutely fried and
not at all ready for the avalanche of work that was heading my way. I really
thought I was having it too easy, and it turns out I was.
February I went to a ska gig, one of my friends was there.
Cue lots of alcohol and a drunken kiss at 4am and we decided it’d be good to
get together. I still maintain he was, and probably still is, my perfect guy.
For whatever reason it didn’t work out – we wanted different things. I wanted
support and comfort and reassurance, he wanted moar vodka. Honestly, it
destroyed me when he called it off. Yeah, we were only together for three
weeks, but I felt royally fucked over. I needed a friend and got treated like
shit. I knew it was coming but did nothing to halt it. Start of the year =
ruined.
Lots of stuff was also going on.. best friends love life
falling apart, other “best friends” family issues, me and my mental health, me
and my vodka habit, me and my financial woes. It all came to a head and I had a
spectacular meltdown. I continued attending university for about a month but it
took all my strength not to cry on a daily basis. I don’t think anyone knows or
can understand the balls it took for me to carry on going, to just turn up, to
put on a brave face and just pretend I was having a bad patch and would be ok
soon. Who the fuck was I kidding?
Sitting in the freezing weather, in the dark, by yourself on Bournville
Green in the winter, crying your eyes out really isn’t a good look. Massive
love and kudos to Chris for coming to get me. I owe you so much, you’ll never
understand just how much that meant to me. Ditto with turning up to my house
with a wheelbarrow when I first told you he’d dumped me. You’re an actual life
saver, several times over.
So in February I decided to drop out of uni. I had been
turning up to lectures but I wasn’t really ‘there’. I was doing my best to hide
from people and not be social and basically trying not to be seen. I know I
screwed some people over with regards to dissertation work, and I’m still truly
sorry for that, but it wasn’t easy for me to do. It was the hardest choice I’ve
ever had to make. It took me over a month to decide if this leave of absence
was the course of action I wanted to take. It was the worst thing I have ever
had to contemplate and settle on a decision to do. I hated it, but I had to do
it.
Realising that I had a major problem took a lot of courage.
I refused to acknowledge it at first, I tried to carry on thinking it was just
a bad patch and that I’d pull through. I can see now that I was in a dark,
horrible place. I can see that I was just bumbling along and fucking up along
the way. I can see now that I had no interest in doing anything. It took all my
strength and energy, both physical and mental, to get up, out of bed and to
campus. I hope I never get to that state ever again. My life had become a
geology degree. I ate, slept, thought, did, acted out, talked a geology degree.
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