feelings – Page 9 – Honest Lies

“There’s an albatross around your neck, all the things you’ve said, and the things you’ve done. Can you stand the person you’ve become?”

I finished my third year of university on Monday, with my group presentation and individual interview. Neither went particularly well or badly.

The presentation was in the afternoon, just after lunch. I met up with my group members in the morning and we made last minute changes and ran through it a couple of times before heading to the lecture hall for the actual thing. There were two members of staff watching us. One of them is one of my favourite members of the faculty, and the other was someone unfamiliar but who my group members had assured me we did not want to get as our moderator. We got set up and ran through it. It was not too bad – everyone did well with some minor stumbles from nerves as you would expect. The one professor (the one I like) seemed reasonably interested, although the other professor looked incredibly bored and disinterested which was off-putting. I could look at neither of them as I ran through my section. I had taken my anti-anxiety pills which meant I could just about present properly, although I was aware of how robotic I sounded. Then we got to the end of the presentation and to the questions part and this is where it fell apart. The bored professor started asking us very strange questions, and I was very grateful for my other group members attempts at answering as I had no idea where to even begin, although we were all of us baffled and it showed. It ended up with him making fun of us for not knowing the answers.

It was not great, and our presentation kind of fell apart because of the question section.

We then had a break before our individual interviews. I went off to the bathroom and when I came back my group members had disappeared, and the interviews started. I ended up waiting outside the room so I could get my stuff. As I waited another group came out from a close by lecture hall and to my surprise, they began to chat to me. We all stood there, waiting, talking amongst ourselves until we were told we could go to another lecture room to wait. Of course I had to wait to be able to get my things, which I did, and then I went to the lecture room and sat all by myself, fretting over my interview, going over my notes but not really being able to concentrate, concerned that I didn’t know where my group members were or whose interview it currently was (It was in alphabetical order.) Eventually I went to hunt down my group members, and I conveniently bumped into one of them who told me where to find the rest. There was actually just one of my group members sat there- which meant I was next. (His surname came after mine.) I sat down next to him, pouring over my notes and more anxious than ever. Then I was called for my interview. There was a table set up at the front of the lecture hall – the two interviewers sat on one side, and a chair on the other for me. The set up made me think of the interrogation rooms I’d seen in dramas. The interviewers were different to those who were present for the presentation and they were much nicer. They asked me about what I thought the project was about, what areas of the thesis I had covered, asked me in detail about those areas, and finally what role in leadership I had taken. All fairly OK questions, not the grilling I had been expecting.

I was anxious but the pills kept me from panicking and beginning to babble. Still I didn’t convey nearly half of what I should of to them. I have a feeling I did not come across like I had done as much as I did, and that I did not have the right idea about the project. At one point one of the interviewers actually seemed surprised by my answer to his question, and not in a good way. I felt so embarrassed afterwards, and so annoyed at myself for failing to mention certain things. Like always, five minutes later I had all the answers. At least it was over. At least I had not panicked.

I walked down to the bus stop, where I just missed one bus and was ignored by another. I felt myself beginning to cry. Not over the missed buses, no. I just felt very tired all of a sudden. I just wanted to be home, away from university. I really could have crouched down and started to sob right there. I felt so completely finished. It has been an exhausting year. (I did not, thankfully, give in to that temptation and managed to blink away the tears.)

But now I’m free! I’ve spent the past few days wallowing in the excessive amount of free time I now have. I’ve basically spent the past few days sleeping, watching dramas… I did catch up on chores and I’ve been trying to eat a bit better. I’m trying not to feel too bad about being lazy though. Next week I’ll try to integrate some slightly more productive things into my time and be even more focused on eating well. For now I’m letting myself relax. Telling myself its OK, everything’s OK. Telling myself to stop worrying about results and fourth year and just focus on now.

You can tell I’m not being entirely successful.

On Sunday I’m going to meet up with my dad to go walking, which I am looking forward to, and over the weekend I should receive information about what fourth year project I have been assigned, which I am not looking forward to.

Post Title: Bastille - Weight of Living Pt1

“There should be just one safe place in the world.”

I had my first exam of the semester today. It was fairly terrible. I was feeling pretty OK about it – I’d done a good amount of revision I thought, and the past papers were fairly similar. Of course the exam turned out completely different from the past papers, with some very odd questions. By the end of the exam I felt panicky, but I couldn’t hold on to that emotion. When I left the examination hall I was worried but mostly I just felt relieved. One down, just another to go. I’m not looking forward to the next, as it is my weaker subject compared to the one today – and well, my one today did not go well which does not bode well for the weaker one. But at least its just the one left. And I’m not going to hold onto those emotions either. I’m just over this semester. I want it done with.

Of course, my calm state might have a lot to do with the pills my doctor gave me on Thursday. As mentioned in the last entry, I was called back to my doctor. I finally worked up the courage to phone on Wednesday, and went to see him on Thursday. I was a nervous wreck, sitting there in the waiting room, shaky and at a loss as to what I was going to say. Why was I even there? But once I sat down with the doctor it turned out OK. I forget sometimes how lucky I am to get a doctor like this, who is putting in so much effort in my treatment. My doctor is really nice, and its great that I’m able to see the same doctor for my appointments – I feel he knows me by now, and I have dealt with him enough that I’m beginning to trust him. It helps that he’s very friendly and cheerful. He’s very positive and optimistic and I like that about him – it makes me feel optimistic. It makes me feel that yes, I can get better. And I greatly admire my doctor for being able to be so upbeat despite what must be a stressful job. It makes me trust in him as a doctor. Doctors who make the effort to have good ‘bedside manner’ are the best. I feel very blessed to have been able to meet such a great doctor, as I do not think I would have the courage to go speak to him last year about this, and to carry on with these appointments, otherwise.

Anyway, on Thursday we talked about where I wanted my treatment to go now regarding my mental health. More counselling was offered, but I declined. I’ve got enough to think about from the last round. Then medication came up. Its come up before- and I dismissed it then, too scared, not feeling like my problems were serious enough. This time, I hesitantly enquired about my options. In the end he prescribed me short term betablockers for anxiety- which I’m so grateful to have. I took my first on Friday as a test and it made me sleepy and sluggish, and it was strange, because my thoughts were worried, and usually that would lead to physical symptoms – feeling sick, shaky, my chest tight, my heart racing. Those kind of things. But it just wouldn’t. I didn’t feel entirely calm – but I couldn’t panic. It felt a bit weird, actually. It felt unusual to feel so relaxed, and I wasn’t sure what to do with it. Similarly in my exam today it was actually almost as distracting that I wasn’t having a panic attack than if I was – I was keenly aware of the absence of it. It feels downright strange to feel relaxed, how pathetic is that?

As well as that I’m currently thinking of going on anti-depressants. I’ve always been against them. Its not that I think nobody should take them – but I’m personally terrified of the side effects. And there’s also a stigma surrounding them isn’t there? It feels like I should be able to deal with my problems without medicine. After all its always in the news isn’t it – that as a society we are covering our problems with pills, that it is basically not good to take them. Its weakness, that you cannot deal with it without medicine. That the pills themselves don’t work, and are damaging us. The horrific stories of their side effects. Even when I research them – and I spent a good few hours on Friday trawling through the internet looking up information – the list of potential side effects from reputable sources are daunting. What if it makes it worse? I cannot help but think. But then I think – what if it makes it better? Its not like I’ve not tried to solve this myself. I’ve been through CBT twice. I’ve gone to speak to a counsellor a few times. I’ve tried enough, haven’t I? Its not a new thing…this. Its years of trying, years of ups and downs and further downs. Surely its not cowardly to want to take medicine? I know a pill won’t magically fix anything, but if it could just make it a little easier…is it so bad to want to have it a little easier?

The side effects are so off putting though. And the thought of more doctors appointments…is slightly exhausting. But I have the whole summer free, so it feels like a good time to try this. If it goes wrong, there’s nothing that can be affected. I hope. I’ve been thinking about this since Thursday and it always cycles back to despite the risks, I should do this. But I’m still unsure.

Lately I also worry about talking about all this here. I read an article about the dangers of talking about your mental health. And it was sad article, because it basically says to be extremely careful, especially in regards to social media, and its true, and it made me think. Can my blog be connected to me in real life? I do not think it can. But sometimes I do worry – where do you draw the line between wanting to talk honestly, and ending up being too honest? It becomes especially tricky when it comes to talking about things like this. Again, as the article said, there’s a lot of stigma and a lot of misunderstandings surrounding mental health. You wish to live in a society where this isn’t shameful, where you don’t end up fearful of someone finding out – like you’ve got some dark secret, not an illness. But its not like that. I’m already nervous with all the strange gaps in my CV, which cannot be explained, and at the possibility that one day I’d have to tell an employer of this for safety purposes. But right now, I do wonder about this on my blog. Its a fairly anonymous blog, but is it anonymous enough? Its too late to make it completely anonymous after all. Its just I do not have anywhere else to talk about this. Its not something you can talk to anyone about. I just want to talk about it, somewhere. This blog has always been an expression of myself, an online diary. I wonder if its old fashioned to keep this kind of old style of blog, and if maybe there isn’t a place today for these kind of blogs. Of course despite this, I’ll keep writing. I’ll cling to this idea of this being my “safe place” where I can express myself. I just do worry sometimes about it coming back to me.

Post Title: Richard Siken - road music

“It was like being in a maze where every path you choose is the wrong one, every path leads to a dead end. Except for one. There’s one path, which is the way out. I just needed to find it.”

It’s currently 2:30am.

I don’t want to fall asleep. I know it would be better for me to do something about my sleeping habits – to go to bed at a reasonable time and to wake up at a reasonable time, but I find myself desperately putting off going to bed. Even when I finally go to bed, I clutch at my smartphone, finding things to do. I can never ever fall asleep and I dislike just lying there, staring at the ceiling, at the walls, at my alarm clock where every minute lingers and its always too early or too late, still awake, always awake, trapped in my thoughts. I’ve started going to bed at 5am some nights, which is just crazy. I stay awake, wanting to exhaust myself. I feel so tired all the time, but that relaxed, sleepy state is always out of reach. Needless to say, Things still aren’t great. I really tried to have a better week though, and I sort of succeeded. I’m finally starting to get stuck into revision – I don’t think I’m doing enough, but then I never think I can do enough. I try and comfort myself that at least I’m doing something now.

The formal thesis draft was submitted last week and somehow my group members and I managed to pull it together into something much better than it was – although I’m still worried about it. We’ve not heard back from anyone. To be honest, I’m not sure how or when we will. And the days are ticking towards the final draft deadline and I think – surely its not ready to be submitted once and for all? Its just crazy, that somehow we’ve managed to put together a 60 page essay. Its my first time putting together such a long essay and it was certainly an experience – its hard, putting together something so long. Its so easy to derail, to go off on tangents. Its hard to make it cohesive and with a clear argument. I really wonder what the moderators think. My thesis is 30 credits, it could be the difference between a 2.2 and a 2.1. Needless to say, I want the 2.1.

I cannot believe I have to write a whole thesis myself next year. I’m not sure there’s anything I’m passionate enough to write 60 pages on it, which is probably the most distressing thing. Trying not think of that one.

My exams are also creeping closer. I’m trying not to think about that, too. Only two exams, yet it takes tremendous willpower to get any revision done. How on earth did I manage with 6 exams last semester? I feel terribly lazy. It feels terribly pointless. I think, well I have a 2.1 and I couldn’t even get a job so what’s the point of keeping up that standard? I feel utterly defeated by my failure. I know I’m supposed to learn from it and move the hell on, but I’m fairly tired. And I’m bored. Studying is really boring. My mind just wanders off, I can’t focus. Its the same as the sleep situation – its impossible me to really immerse myself in any one task. Its hard to get my thought to shut down, so that I can focus, or relax.

At the end of the day, the downside is that there’s just over a month left of everything. But that is the upside too. Just a month or so, and then I’ve got the rest of the summer stretching before me. So I’m not working, or got any plans beside. I’ll take the opportunity to enjoy the time off – it is after all my last free summer. The last summer I have to cling to being a child without any responsibilities. The next summer I’ll be a graduate and who knows what will be awaiting me then – I doubt its going to be pleasant, at the rate that some graduates get jobs. (This year, I let myself hope I wouldn’t be one of them, next year I’m not going to be so reckless.) For now, I’ve got this time to look forward to. A whole summer in my own space, a whole summer to relax and hopefully heal.

I’m struggling with my eating disorder right now. For a while it was going really well, but I crashed recently, slipping back into bad habits and its been hard trying to get myself back on track. I guess its linked to my low mood, this feeling of what’s the point? that tinges everything.

The other thing is: I’ve gained weight. I’ve gained a lot of weight in fact- for the first time since I was a child you could probably use the word chubby to describe me. Its unfair, I think. I’m eating better and doing more exercise and yet, I’ve gained weight. I’m struggling to accept it. I do not want to accept it. Yet the only way I can ever get myself to where I was is to starve myself. Why do I have to have the sort of body that only looks the way I want when I mistreat it? Why can’t I exercise, eat properly and be skinny? I want to fit into a a size 8, a size 10 at the max like I used to. Now I have to squeeze myself into a size 12 and I hate myself. I’m doing thing properly, for the most part. I’m trying to treat my body better. So why? I really hate it. I run my hands over my body and where there used to be the outlines of bone, there’s only the softness of fat. You can pinch my skin now, hold on. Its fascinating, in a grotesque way. My CBT modules tells me to love my body. I’m not quite sure how to go about doing that, when all my clothes don’t fit, and I feel all squishy, and I have all these curves in all the wrong places. I used to have the ideal figure – tall, skinny, no curves. Sure, I got that way because I was depressed and barely eating, but it felt good. It felt like the one thing I had – I was unhappy, I hated my personality, my skin was terrible, but I was thin. That really meant something to me. The fact that I’ve gained weight now just feels like another thing out of control, another thing that isn’t the way I want it to be. Why, I think. Why. I’m wrestling with myself – with the part of me that wants to better, to sort out my weird, distorted relationship with food (and all the things that come with it) and the part of me that just wants to give up – to just go back to the ways things were. I was thin then, at least.

I have my last therapy appointment on Wednesday. I’m fairly dreading it. I really liked my first therapy sessions, but now it feels like I’ve not made enough progress, that I’ve failed at getting better. I feel embarrassed by this, ashamed at facing my therapist like this. I don’t even know. I just feel like a bit of a failure right now. Its hard not to look at other people your age and wonder how they are so well put together. Oh, you know beyond the selfishness of your own sadness that they are probably struggling too in their own ways, they are just as insecure perhaps, that they basically have their own private demons to deal with most likely, but its so easy to slip into this feeling of being somewhat inadequate. Of being 21, and failing at it miserably. This summer I turn 22. I’ll have finished up my third year of university. The future comes ever closer, adulthood looms, and I do not feel ready for it at all.

Post Title: Elizabeth Haynes - Human Remains

“I’m in pain – anger and hatred still remain in my heart”

I cannot be the only blog owner who finds it difficult to maintain their blog when they’re unhappy with how it looks? I’ve become thoroughly sick of this layout, and yet I’m having trouble replacing it – I want my site to look like this but not like this. I know, it makes no sense to me either. But I am likely making excuses. I’ve been feeling lazy, procrastinating over everything – now I’m even neglecting this place.

These past couple of weeks have been a mess.

I managed to get my business coursework submitted, and the thesis draft did get done – even without as much help from my group members as I would have liked, and with two chapters missing. I felt awful sending such a rough around the edges piece of work to my supervisor but there were hardly any alternatives. I got feedback from my supervisor back and it was a long email with lots to work on. After forwarding it to my group members there has been little progress. I’m so worried about this project. Yet, I don’t know what to do about it – should I just write the missing chapters myself? Should I send yet another email to ask for someone else to do it? Do I just give up? Right now, I’m close to answering yes to no.3.

I also got my other coursework back – my circuit design coursework. I got a pathetically low mark. I could have cried. Instead I hesitantly texted my friend to vent a little. It did not remove my disappointment or my hurt over it, but it did help a little bit. I felt proud for having the courage to reach out to someone.

One of the things that constantly comes up in my counselling is the importance of socialising, or rather the importance of getting out the house and doing things, preferably with others. It always makes me uncomfortable when talking about friends and hobbies comes up in my sessions. I don’t have many friends and my hobbies feel quite pathetic (does reading even count as a hobby?) But it makes me more uncomfortable thinking about why its like this. Though I have been trying to take the advice of my therapist.

This week I’ve stepped out of my comfort zone twice. I went to dinner with my Japanese classmates and teacher on Tuesday. It was a little awkward – I tried my best, but I caught myself rambling a couple of times. At least I caught myself, before it go too bad. I did enjoy it a little, but it also left me feeling tired and embarrassed. Then on Thursday I went to see Cats with a friend. I’d asked them ages ago to go with me, and I’ve been nervous ever since. I don’t know them that well but they made attempts to set up things with me at the beginning of the year which I’d always passed on – never rejecting, but never confirming, too afraid to say yes outright. What if they were only being polite? I’d think. So they naturally gave up asking. I wanted to face my fear, I guess. And so I worked up the courage to ask them. I thought if I reached out to them it would make it better- show that I do want their friendship. Perhaps value their friendship? Something like that. I guess I just thought I should stop waiting for something to happen and make it happen instead. Be decisive! Yes, that is probably it.

Anyway, we went to dinner and then on to the show. It started out shakily – they were late, the restaurant was busy. We stood by the bar and chatted and I stuck my hands in my pocket to keep myself from fidgeting – am I saying the right things? Am I being interesting enough? Do they want to be here? These kind of thoughts cycled in my mind. During the lapses in conversation my anxiety would spike and I’d feel panicky, like I should say something, anything. Thankfully this time I managed to keep myself from blurting out strange things to fill these gaps, as is my usual trick. We really over planned it, and so finished dinner about an hour before the show despite the initial 30 minute wait to be seated. We went to the concert hall and sat about for a bit. I was really restless, really anxious by this point, but maybe a little excited. Yet once the show started I was so aware of their presence, so caught up in new thoughts of are they finding it interesting? are they regretting coming here? that I found it difficult to really enjoy it.

After the show, and I had parted with my friend I went to McDonalds and bought myself food. Yes, I had just gone to a restaurant – but I’d been so nervous and self conscious that I couldn’t bring myself to eat a lot in front of them. What if they think I’m eating too much? I don’t want to appear greedy or fat. That’s my eating disorder there – its hard to eat around others. I was starving by the time I left my friend, and I was anxious too so I wanted to eat. I sat at the bus stop staring longingly at the Tesco in front of me – thinking about chocolate, and chips, eating until I felt sick from it, until I didn’t feel anything else but that sickness. I felt slightly shaky, panicked, upset, embarrassed. I sat on the bus and ate my fries – the tiny amount of food I allowed myself to indulge in because I knew I was actually hungry in part – feeling like a pig, feeling utterly ridiculous. The embarrassment growing even worse. I just wanted to be home, away from people. If it was possible to crawl out my own skin, to disappear completely, then that too.

So I don’t get what my therapist is trying to tell me.

I’ve tried to be a bit more social this week. But it stresses me out, leaves me feeling wrecked by anxiety and embarrassed. Even though theoretically I had two nice evenings, I was too anxious and worried to completely enjoy them. That’s pathetic isn’t it? I know I should feel happy in those situations but I just don’t. The anxiety never, ever leaves me. I cannot relax and if you aren’t relaxed how are you supposed to feel happy? I don’t understand. I can cope with texting someone about work- thats ‘safe’- but actually spending a good amount of time in another persons company…its a bit much.

Its Sunday now and I still feel anxious and embarrassed. I have the programme from cats sat on my desk, taunting me. I cringe whenever I see it. Why did I do that? I’m never going to be able to look at a poster or hear cats without remembering these feelings now.

With all this going on – with my anxiety as it has been – with the way work has been going, or not been going, with the stress of trying to socialise, I’ve totally undone all my work for therapy these past couple of weeks. I’m going to bed too late, waking up in the afternoons, eating badly. Its sickening. But I cannot be bothered to fix it. I feel so worried, stressed and anxious that I’ve come to a complete standstill. Given up. I’m hurt, and I’m lonely, and I’m frustrated – I have all these feelings, thoughts, emotions and I cannot process them, don’t know how to deal with them.

I know I always say this – that tomorrow will be better. But I’m really going to try to get back on track this week. Tomorrow I’m going out walking with my dad, and then I’m going to try and get some good revision done the rest of the week. I really want to work on my time management – with no lectures to attend to I have more than enough time in theory to watch all the dramas and read all the books I want even whilst getting revision done. I just need to stop procrastinating. I just need to remember, 2 hours of aiming to get something done is better than 5 hours sitting there fretting that you’re not doing enough.

And I will get a new layout up for this place, too.

Post Title: MC Sniper - Danger

“In fact, he didn’t give a good damn about a whole hell of a lot these days. Self -destructive, he knew; not a first for that, either.”

It’s now approaching the end of term for the third year of my degree. I’m not quite sure when that happened, but things are so stressful that I don’t have much time to process it. The days just pass by, and I’m not quite sure where all that time is going. Deadlines are fast approaching, as are exams.

I had my Japanese speaking test on Tuesday. It did not go well. My partner had been unreachable all weekend so we ended up meeting on Tuesday afternoon to create the dialogue and to go through it. In the end I messed up a couple of particles but that went ok – it was just a bit short. It was when my teacher started asking us questions after that I struggled. To be fair to me, I would struggle in this situation even in English – I’m not good being put on the spot like this. In the end I had to say “I don’t know” – twice. Too many times. The worst thing is that afterwards I knew what I could have said – it’s just that interview environment that I freak out and my mind goes blank. I just cannot think in those situations. Tomorrow, I have my writing test. I have a 300 character essay to memorize for it. My teacher initially said it was a 160 character essay, which I did and sent to her on Thursday. I got a terse email back on Friday saying for level 2 it needed to be longer and more detailed. Feeling a little bruised from the passive aggressive feedback, I changed it up, expanded it and sent it back. I got another email, even more terse, with even more red text and more corrections on Saturday. I now have a final essay but of course I still need to memorize it. Which I cannot. Because I’m not very good at memorizing things. Especially a 300 character essay in Japanese. One of the things I’ve always loved about Japanese is how you can say so much with so little- 100 characters are very different to 100 words. Yeah, perhaps now I wish Japanese was more straight forward. I feel bad after my teacher spent so much time on it, that it may come to nothing. My confidence is more than a little battered after the terrible speaking test, and the terse emails – all that red text a reminder of how bad I am.

Worse, apart from that essay I have no idea what to expect for the exam. There are no past papers, we have not been told what is on it, what format it will be. Nothing. I have been stressed out about it all week but I think I’ve reached the point where I’ve just given up on trying to prepare for it. Gotten too overwhelmed by it all and now thinking, what’s the point? It’s not like I’ve not tried this year – last semester, sure, I did not do enough but I had six exams and a group thesis to work on as well. This semester I have had more time and I have been trying harder. But there’s so much to memorize and I’m not very good with cramming it all in. I get confused over which particle to use. My mind goes blank and I can’t remember whether a word means one thing or another, whether the kanji/kana says this or that, what the stroke order is. And all the weird and wonderful conjugating rules and all the different forms – there are so many different word forms. Again, I loved Japanese because it was so different from English, I found it fascinating. When it comes to an exam, it’s just frustrating.

It’s too damn much. For someone who has been learning Japanese for as long as I have, it’s also admittedly pretty pathetic how much I still struggle. I try to brush it off but the thing is that next year I will be able to take a language as part of my degree. Currently I am taking paid evening classes outside of my degree – they do not count as credit towards my degree. The evening classes are at a slightly different level than the degree classes – at level 2 for evening classes, I should be able to enter level 2 of the degree classes. I’m slightly terrified that if I fail these assessments I am in fact going to be sent back to level 1 for the degree classes. I want to move forward. But maybe I should accept the reality that I’m just not very good with languages? Clearly, I have no idea how to learn a language, and I don’t have the memory to be able to hold onto the sheer amount of vocab needed. And I certainly do not have the confidence to speak it well – I fear getting it wrong so much. Even when speaking English I have that fear – what if I’m saying the wrong thing? Becoming tongue tied and ending up blurting out strange things because of this fear. Feeling embarrassed, so the fear intensifies, becomes justified.

Nonetheless I am pretty annoyed at how little information my teacher has provided about these assessments. For the speaking test she told us it wasn’t long enough but we had asked us before and she hadn’t said it should be long. For the writing test she told me the essay needn’t be too long, 160 characters is fine, but then it was suddenly 200 characters minimum, and of course there are no past papers. How am I supposed to practice without anything to practice with? Its two hours – how am I supposed to know how to manage my time?

Anyway, apart from my Japanese test on Monday, I have three pieces of coursework due Thursday and my group draft thesis due on Friday. I want to say that I’ve made more progress with these others, seeing so I’m so hopeless when it comes to Japanese. Alas. I’ve got one report done and submitted already, but the other two aren’t anywhere close to done. The group thesis is going particularly terribly. I feel helpless about it as it’s a group project, so it only matters 1/6th of what I do. The other 5/6th rests on my group members and therein lies the problems. My group members were supposed to finish their research by 3rd march, it is now April and they still haven’t finished. I’m in charge of putting together the final thesis but so far only 1 out of 6 chapters have been done. I’m working on another chapter but my group member whose research I am combining with mine for it has totally half asked his work and I do not even know where to begin polishing that into a final product. The other members keep telling me they are working on their stuff but have nothing to show for it.

I’m so stressed out right now it’s ridiculous. I’ve been spending hours in the library this week trying to get through everything but those hours pass with only small amounts getting done because it all takes so much time. On Friday I was at the library from 3pm to 8pm and I hardly got anything done, busy fucking around trying to get this group members research to fit into the thesis and failing miserably because no matter what I did I cannot work with what isn’t there, and I tried to do a bit more research myself but at the same time there isn’t enough time. I cannot write this thesis all myself. I can add bits and pieces but I need more from my group members. And I have no idea how to express this, and I am acutely aware that it’s all probably hopeless because it’s too late. 60 pages by Friday, and we’ve only got 10 pages.

I miss my wonderful group from last year – where we all delegated tasks based on our strengths, where we all pulled our weight and got things done on time with plenty of time for last minute edits. These people I am working with have no sense of time management. I mean, sure I procrastinate, I admit, but leaving it this late? After we’ve had all year to work on it? It makes me angry, quite frankly. This thesis is worth 30% of our marks this year. I’ll be so annoyed if my marks drop because other people cannot be bothered to pull their weight.

I’m so very annoyed about it all.

Meanwhile I’m getting exactly no revision done for my exams and that just adds to the stress and the anxiety.

And its awful because I’m dealing with my eating disorder right now and the stress is not helping. I’m a binge eater. Usually I’d be drowning my stress in chocolate, ice cream and other such fatty foods but of course I’m trying not to do that now. I’m left feeling very lost, and very empty, with all this stress and worry and no idea quite where to channel it.

Post Title: Sworn to Silence, Linda Castillo

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