So I was riding a high yesterday after work, perhaps it was because I hadn’t eaten anything that day and they gave me a super greesy bowl of chips of eat at the end of my shift, so a food high, or perhaps it was because I had smoked for he first time in a little while, so it was hitting me harder. Or perhaps it was just because I’d earned £5 in tips that afternoon. But whatever it was I was cheerful, but as always it didn’t last. I found out today that I didn’t pass the in-class test I took – for one of my units at Uni – the other day, and down we go. Now I’ve got to write a 2,500 word essay in the next 2 – including today – days, because I said I’d go into work on Wednesday, even though I have a seminar in the morning, so I’ll have to go in later than usual, or miss the seminar, I’ve been missing them a lot recently, so one more will probably hurt, but at this point, does it really matter. I’m not going to get the grades, unless I can retake and I’m not sure how that works for in-class tests. I think I’ll try and email my tutor, I just have to find out who that is.
Recently, well the last 2-3 weeks, I’ve been thinking about going back to couselling. I mean I’ve been having a bumpy ride of it and as is evident it’s affecting my grades, which isn’t good. I would just carry on, but this time around my grades matter, because without them my future disappears and I just don’t think I can handle that shit at the moment.
But I’ve got 3 in-class tests in under a month and 2 essays yo write, so I’ve got to… knuckle under and work harder. Then of course after Christmas break I’ve got an exam. Maybe it’ll be a good thing to stay here over Christmas break, perhaps I’ll be able to get some revision done, or perhaps I’ll be too out of it, to do any work and end up the same as last year, 4 stone lighter and blanking on nearly every question in the exam. Not that lossing the weight would be the worst thing, but I’d rather be fat and happy, than skinny and depressed.
My friend started couselling last week and she comes out of the first one, saying she got depression. I just wanted to hit her, because honestly I have a hard time believe that shit, maybe she does and she hide it well, but considering she can’t hide her anxiety that well, I doubt she’d be able to hide depression, plus she’s not really the sort of hide stuff like that, as far as I can tell. Maybe I’m just being hard on her, because I had bad depression once and she’s always using her mental health as an excuse for things, while I’m just pushing on through, but then that’s my way and nothing to do with her really, so I’m just being unfair there, but it still makes me a little pissed sometimes – I know I shouldn’t bitch about my flatmates…
Because she complains, and I just want to shake her a screech my problems at her, to wake her up to the fact that she’s not the only person in the world, let alone this flat suffering. I mean our other flatmate going through a lot at the moment. She’s been having problems with her knee, which lead to her being in pain all the time, but most painkillers don’t work on her and the doctors have been jerking her around about the whole thing.
I feel really bad for her and want to do something, but I know nothing about medicine or anything, I mean she knows more than me, she wants to be a surgeon – I believe. So I’m useless, so I try to be comforting, but I don’t think I’m really doing anything.
Any ways, me and her, have become good… flatmates. I don’t know if I would call her a friend, but then I’m not sure what to call her. I think that after we stop living together we’ll loss contact, but I don’t mind. I mean I think it would be great to keep in touch, but if we don’t it’s not going to kill me. But we get along well and often sit in the kitchen a chat, which is nice and all that jazz. I think we just have the right amount of distance between us. Close enough to be friendly and hang out and all that jazz, but far enough, so that when we stop living together the loss in contact won’t hurt either of us – it works.
Any ways… I’ve got myself a bottle of strawberry daiquiri and I’m going to drink that – and probably some of my left over vodka – and try and get some of essay done. Well at least most of the research, then try and write it all tomorrow and maybe a little on Thursday. Because I have work Wednesday and then a hospital appointment Friday morning, so I know I’m going to be… on a down for that, because I don’t like going to the hospital, because I associate the hospital with death – I believe I may have said this before.