Friday, 16 July 2010

i'm fine

"How are you?"

What I think:
"I'm really struggling at the moment. I'm scared that you don't really know me at all, because if you did you would realise what a worthless piece of shit I am. I'm scared waiting for the day to come that you realise this. I know I'm no fun to be around at the moment and eventually you're just going to get bored of it. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone, and I don't think that's enough. Eventually you'll realise that you could do so much better. And the main reason I'm scared of losing you is because having you in my life is the only thing keeping me sane at the moment. Losing you would be like having the floor pulled out from under me, I know I wouldn't be able to keep it together any more. You're the only thing keeping me from cutting because I wouldn't know what to say if you saw the scars. And you deserve so much better than this. You deserve better than an ugly, stupid, annoying waste of space. If I wasn't so selfish I would let you go find someone who is actually good enough for you."

What I say:
"I'm fine."

Sunday, 16 May 2010


Last week, a friend who I haven't seen for ages messaged me and asked if I fancied going out for a drink. Well I say a friend, when I think about it I think we've only actually met a handful of times. But it was one of those things where the first time we met we just clicked instantly. I hadn't seen him in ages and in my current insecure state, I was convinced that I'd have nothing to say to him. That it would be awkward, that he would think I was boring. I was nervous but I forced myself to go, thinking the worst case scenario was that I could just leave after one drink.

As it turns out, we had so much fun. The conversation just flowed, and it made me realise - I'm not a complete freak. Being on this university course seems to have destroyed my confidence; since September I haven't made any real friends, and it's made me feel like the same awkward weird girl I was at school. I seem to have forgotten how to make friends, and I resigned myself to the "fact" that I'm just not a fun person to be around. I guess this one night out renewed my confidence and made me realise I am a fun, interesting person.

It also made me realise that part of the reason I have so few friends is that I never put myself out there. I never ask people if they want to meet up, I always wait for them to ask me. I'm so afraid of rejection that I never take the chance. So in the spirit of self improvement, I emailed my tutor group at university last Thursday and asked if they fancied meeting up for a catch up drink, since it's been about six weeks since we've been at uni.

Today is Sunday, and not one person has replied. Strangely, it doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would. I feel a sort of calm acceptance - I pushed my boundaries and took a risk and for that I'm proud of myself. I can accept now that these people are not my friends and never will be, but most importantly, that's alright. I have people who love me - it may not be a lot, but I feel blessed to have even one person who truly cares about me. Things with Welsh are really wonderful, every day I feel lucky to have him. I realise now that I am worthy of being loved, I am interesting and fun and a good friend. And if certain people don't like me - screw 'em.

Tuesday, 9 March 2010


I am happy at the moment. And I haven't really, truly, felt that in a long while, so it's nice to say it "out loud" (so to speak).

It's not overwhelming, amazing happiness, nothing fantastic has happened to make me feel on top of the world, but I feel content. I just feel good - I don't feel stressed or anxious or miserable or drained or sad or lonely. And it's sad really how long it's been since I didn't feel any of those things.

One thing that isn't contributing to my happiness is my uni course. It's incredibly hard work, incredibly draining, and half the time I just don't feel like I can do it. I want to be able to do it, but my crappy self belief tells me I'll never be a good OT. But I think for now, just knowing that I want to do it is enough. As long as I know the end result is what I want, I just have to hope it all falls into place in the end, and not get bogged down by it in the meantime. The stress of it had started to take over my life, and now I'm realising that actually it's not my whole world. At the end of the day I need to look at it like a job - I go to work, I come home, and the rest of the time I spend with my friends, or doing the things I enjoy. It isn't my whole world.

However, one thing that is contributing to my happiness, is the new boy I'm seeing. It's been about 7 months since my last relationship which I think has been a decent amount of time to have my own space and get my head together (more together than it was before anyway!) I wasn't even really looking for anything - End Of 2009 Guy really fucked me over emotionally, and it still stings a bit even now. But something about this one seems different (god what a cliche, people always say that before it goes wrong don't they?) I just don't feel insecure at all. I'm not scared that he'll lose interest, he actually wants to spend time with me, he doesn't act like it's a chore to speak to me. We took things slowly and didn't rush into bed immediately. Basically, it's the opposite of all my previous relationships. And it's funny, at first something didn't feel right with him, and I couldn't pinpoint what it was. He seemed so different to my usual type. And that's because he is - but I didn't even realise at first that it's in a good way. He makes me feel special, that I'm worth more to him than just a shag. It's been so long since I actually experienced some plain, good old-fashioned romance.

In fact, it's the exact opposite to EO2009 Guy. I had literally the best sex of my life with him - it was beyond fantastic. Which was great, except he didn't give a shit about me as a person. Whereas the new boy (I think I'll call him Welsh, since he is!) really cares me about me, but the sex isn't so good. At first that bothered me - I like sex, and I have a high sex drive. But when I thought about it I realised that casual sex is only fulfilling for so long. Having someone genuinely care about me is so much more rare and precious.

Monday, 4 January 2010

happy new year

Things are...I don't know. Not good, not bad. Lonely and difficult and anxiety-ridden, but I'm functioning. My Christmas was good, New Years was good.

When I look back at 2009, all I see is a load of relationship disasters. I met a guy at the end of the year who was so ridiculously perfect for me. Like, he was basically the male version of me, we had SO much in common. So we had sex, and then he switched. Changed pretty much overnight. Turns out he suffers from depression too, and is currently in the midst of a bad spell. I could deal with that except he's completely pushed me away; told me he can't deal with a relationship at the moment and seems to have no interest in me anymore (despite all the usual "lets be friends" bullshit).

I am so sick of men. I hate saying that, because I want to believe that there is someone out there who will love me for me and not just because they want to get in my knickers, but where they are hiding I do not know. I'm only 22, and already I'm bitter. If anyone has any kind of evidence that real love exists (especially for fucked up people like me) then I'd love to hear it, cos I'm struggling to believe it does anymore.

""I don't let anyone touch me," I finally said.
"Why not?"
Why not? Because I was tired of men. Hanging in doorways, standing too close, their smell of beer or fifteen-year-old whiskey. Men who didn't come to the emergency room with you, men who left on Christmas Eve. Men who slammed the security gates, who made you love them then changed their minds. Forests of boys, their ragged shrubs full of eyes following you, grabbing your breasts, waving their money, eyes already knocking you down, taking what they felt was theirs. It was a play and I knew how it ended, I didn't want to audition for any of the roles. It was no game, no casual thrill. It was three-bullet Russian roulette. "

- Janet Fitch (White Oleander)