'You know when you've cried so much that your eyes feel like someone's sticking pins into them?'

Final year of uni is killing me. I've never felt this low in my life. But more than that I've never felt so alone. No support. No shoulder to sob ridiculously into.

What will I do when I'm done with uni? What will I be? Where will I be?

I have no real plan. Worse than that not one person I know believes I can be this important person. So much so that I, myself, don't believe I can be such a person. I'm constantly overlooked, talked over, left behind or ignored.

I'm told to push myself harder? Fuck off for what? It's not just about pushing hard because if it were rhinos, hippos and elephants would take over the world.

Even when I push as hard as I can, try to go that one step further I'm shot down. Even by those nearest and dearest to me. I have yet to hear one fucking positive thing from those closest to me. One thing. Not one thing. I hate it. I hate myself.

I hate myself for many reasons. Why am I so dependant on what these people say? Why am I not more aware of my own skills - though I can't tell you what they are right now I must have some right? Well it's not the lack of skills that worries me. I'm sure I'm one of those pointless people with skills that don't really count.

I hate myself for being such a stupid stupid overly emotional sack of shite. What the fuck is the point of me feeling like a complete twat for no one to care? I've given so much of my time to being the perfect friend and girlfriend but WHY? Who the fuck cares? I can't change who I am am. And I am NOT perfect. Not in any sense of the word. The sooner I learn this and bury it deep in the hollow where my brain should be the better.

You know when you've cried so much that your eyes feel like someone's sticking pins into them? That's about it right now.

The worst thing about crying for me is it's not a release like it is for some people. It exhausts me. I am exhausted now.

Nothing's solved by crying. And lots of different things have made me cry these past few weeks none of which can be resolved by the crying. So why am I still crying?

End of an era my left foot.

As I may have told you before I hate uni, the past three years have been a seemingly necessary torture. I mean it's the same old, same old. Go to school. Go to college. Go to uni. Get a job.

I hated my first experience of uni so much I had one exam to resit in the summer and I just walked into the head of department's office and told him I didn't want to carry on with this.

I hated my course because it was mind numbingly boring and made you realise a lot of people just do these things for the title. I'd originally applied to do therapeutic radiography which I thought would be something I'd love to learn about and love to do after. However I went in for an interview and they told me my grades are more suited to Pharmacy. Not myself as a person but my grades.

This is my first problem. The world isn't as black and white as I like to think it is. It's all grey. Many many shades of bland and blah. There's no telling what amount of mixing and mingling of hot white flashes of fun an fancy and black pits of misery you mix together to get your shade.

Anyway a year after leaving higher education I decided to go back to uni. Well I sort of wanted to but had lovely friends who forced me to call up during clearing.

I applied for Creative Writing and didn't get in because my portfolio was, admittedly, horseshit and then got offered a place to do lit.

I don't mind English Literature. Some parts I really enjoy and some parts I absolutely loathe. It's very demanding, you have to have a broad knowledge of a whole lotta stuff. And I don't. But I'm getting there.

I don't read like I used to. I just don't. I no longer find the pleasure I used to find in books. I can't ever relax and read. I'm always too fidgety and too all over the place to even read a page.

Why did I go for it? Well I thought I need a degree not to get bogged down in a shit job. Instead I am on the verge of finishing my degree. I have 5 years continuous experience. But neither means a thing.

It doesn't matter. Why do I keep telling people that experience is essential? It's nothing. I feel like I've been over looked all these years, understandably being part time but now I am soon to become overqualified for a job that isn't right for me. But what job is?

What's a girl to do?

2012. In pictures.

These are a few snaps that have made up the last year.

 

First coffee of 2012. It's still awkward when someone asks me for my name...