Honest Lies – Page 31 – "Okay, so I'm the dragon. Big deal. You still get to be the hero."

Welcome! Honest Lies is the personal site of a 26 year old graduate electrical engineer living in the UK. Covering every day life, books and various other randomness. Read more about me and the site here.

“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

Never ever

I finally got around to changing the site layout. I’m not particularly certain about it, but the change feels good.

I have a bunch of other ideas floating around in my mind regarding further changes to the layout, although the chances of any of it coming to fruition is, admittedly, slim. It was a pain just trying to make the little edits I did to this layout – my HTML/CSS knowledge is stuck somewhere around 2006 and my PHP knowledge is non-existent – though having experience in C/C++ means I can just about analyse and edit existing PHP to do what I want. Its a little frustrating trying to translate the images in my mind to the screen. I remember how much I used to enjoy this challenge though. I used to love coding when it came to my web site. When I thought about going on to learn programming as part of my degree I was actually quite excited. I even contemplated going into robotics and mechatronics! Thank goodness I stuck to electrical and electronic engineering. My degree killed any spark of interest in coding I had. I realised just how hard it was, and just how terrible I was at it, and it frustrated me, it still frustrates me. It feels like something an engineer should be able to do. I should be able to handle programming but I’ve never been able to wrap my head around it. I can’t even handle MATLAB, and that’s definitely something pretty much every engineering graduate can do these days.

So staring at those lines of code in my theme, not quite being able to grasp it, just triggers those feelings of inadequacy and frustration. I should learn how to be content with using themes as is, but then it would be pointless having my site self-hosted wouldn’t it? And it wouldn’t…feel right. I want to make my site mine in some way.

Oh and I’ve also just discovered WordPress has a full screen writing view. How great is it? I really like the new color schemes for the dashboard too. Finally WordPress is becoming a bit sleeker and less cluttered. Its a much nicer writing environment than it was.

“I would stare at the grains of light suspended in that silent space, struggling to see into my own heart.”

On Wednesday, I went for a walk. There is a nature reserve about 45 minutes away from where I live which I had been meaning to visit for oh, months. I have travelled abroad by myself, eaten at restaurants by myself, but the simple act of walking without a purpose in my local area by myself filled me with anxiety. But on Wednesday, I was determined. I set out with google maps as my guide. I walked, and I walked, and 45 minutes later I suddenly found myself out of the urban sprawl, at the nature reserve. The air was fresh, the smell reminding me of my village where I usually live. It was quite amazing that the nature reserve was right there, tucked so close to the city. I don’t mind cities but not English cities – I find them claustrophobic. England is a small country, and I’m always aware of that, but no more so than in the city. At least in my village, or when I go walking, in those empty spaces you can pretend for a moment to be in a place much larger.

I breathed in deeply the fresh air of the reserve, soaked up the bright sunlight, swatted away a million little bugs, and listened to the sounds of birds chattering. I followed the path past a lake, and then walking along a river, the countryside on the other side with lush green fields, a herd of cows resting in one, on the river barges occasionally passed through. I curved round back to the lake, and sat at the lakeside, cracked open my book and read. It was very peaceful, very still. At some point I looked up and caught sight of them – three herons, fishing in the shallow waters at the edge of the lake. I sprang to my feet, still clutching my open book, and fumbled for my camera. I spent a moment filming there before I remembered to put away my book. Then I stood, and filmed, and watched in amazement as they fished, and ruffled their feathers, and groomed each other. I had never seen so many herons, and so close. I was utterly enthralled, and it was many minutes later that I tore myself away, settling back on the bench and reading some more until I realized I should probably get going back home. I continued on the path, following the lake round, and ended up back at the entrance. I got back to the city and walked back to my house, feeling happy and relaxed and more than ever, I was grateful to end up living where I currently am. I’m a long way from the city center, and even my university is an hour away, but I am so happy with my location. I like being tucked away in the suburbs like this. Its quiet here, it feels safe, and I’m close enough to everything I need, with direct bus routes to uni and the city center, and on Wednesday I realised that the countryside was just 45 minutes away from me, and I like that. It feels like I have an escape route.

I needed that break, too. Since then its been back to university work, with my group presentation and individual interviews tomorrow. My anxiety levels have, consequently, been very high. There were meetings on Thursday, Friday and even today. I got through Thursday and Friday meetings OK, but today…not so much.

Today I went to my meeting all prepared for running through the presentation, to find my group members were not. So I sat and read, assured that I had done my bit, letting my group members work amongst themselves. The time came to run through the presentation – I stood up and started – and was immediately halted by my group. “Slow down!” I had practised it, gone through it so it was exactly the right time, and it was all paced exactly right when I went through it by myself. But standing in front of my group members my heart began to race, I felt my chest tightening, I felt myself beginning to shake. I began to rush through it, scared that if I stopped I would begin to stammer, would not be able to get through it. I couldn’t breathe. My group members were laughing. It was humiliating. I wanted to cry. I sat back down, as they offered me advice, still amused. I had been so confident! What had I been expecting? I felt totally knocked off my perch. Did I deserve it? For sitting there so calmly, quietly reading as if I was above them all? That’s what they must be thinking, I thought. Anxiety held me firmly in its grasp. They were pushing me to continue. I took a long drink of water. I tried to continue but I couldn’t get the pacing right and eventually I had to sit down and give up. I’ve been through it some more tonight but it hardly matters – its fine when I go through it myself. Its just when facing an audience that anxiety wrecks everything. Like it always does. I want to appear so much more intelligent and put together than I actually do in public – in private I’m such a different person. I feel like such a different person. I wish I could show this side to people – this quieter, more intelligent, more thoughtful side of me. I resolved to take my beta blockers tomorrow. I don’t really know why I did not take them today, I think I wanted to test it without them. There is also the individual interviews to worry about. Basically, the supervisors meet each group member and grill them to asses their contribution. I’m resigned to not doing well for it. How could I? I’ll either babble like an idiot, or end up unable to say anything. I can never express myself properly. Can never present the image of myself that I want to. I cannot resign myself in the same way for the presentation of course- my group members are depending on me for that. The interview will just affect my mark, but the presentation is all of ours. I really hope the pills work and I can get through it. That I can talk slowly, calmly and get my ideas across.

Post Title: Haruki Murakami - Norwegian Wood

hen and chick
I passed an hour or so gardening today, of the tending to indoor plants variety. Cutting away the dead leaves from a chrysanthemum, throwing out a dead coriander, re-potting a hen & chick, rinsing out the leftover pots, pruning a few of my other plants of dead leaves. At some point, a few hours on a sunny afternoon tending to plants became an enjoyable past time of mine.

For my 18th birthday, my best friend gave me a hen & chick plant as a present – with the intention that it would eventually brighten up my dorm room when I went to uni. It was a little unexpected, I’d never been a plant person and wasn’t sure how I was going to keep it alive. A year later, my father, probably inspired by my friend and taking my dedication to taking care of that plant as enthusiasm, gave me a schefflera and a mini cactus, in a pot painted with other cacti, when I did go to university. Those three plants sat on my dorm windowsill, and I diligently watered them, and kept a close eye on their condition, scared of killing them off. I did not want to report back to my friend or my father that I’d killed their presents. Slowly, I began to realise my friend had a point – they cheered up my room immensely, added a touch of much needed colour and warmth to the bland colors and tired state of my dorm room. I began to enjoy taking care of them, and when I was in Malaysia I would occasionally ask my dad to report on their conditions – feeling ridiculous about it – and he’d laugh at me, as expected, but reassure me they were fine nonetheless. Now that I’m in my own rental my indoor garden has rapidly expanded.

I tried to grow some herbs – basil, coriander and parsley. I faithfully split them up and re-potted them in fresh soil, but the basil quickly died away, and I’ve just had to throw away the last of the coriander. My parsley clings to life, but just. I cannot cook with it and have definitely been put off herb growing. My three parsley pots are on my kitchen windowsill, alongside a christmas cacti. I had some trouble with my christmas cacti as I was over-watering it. After letting it dry out I’m now watering it sparsely once a week and it seems to be making a slow recovery. I had a chrysanthemum on the kitchen windowsill but it got aphids. I put the mum outside, alongside my then flowering and growing nicely coriander which had also become infected with bugs. The coriander died, and my mum shrivelled up, but seems to be clinging to life still. Now I’ve pruned off the dead bits, I hope that it recovers. In the living room I have two windows. On my one living room window sill I have an army of miniature cacti – the original one, and five others. On my other living room windowsill I have an ivy, alongside my original hen & chick, and an array of chicks from that mother plant that I replanted last year and which have grown up quickly. It looks a little bit ridiculous having that many hen & chicks, but I love how the stems droop down which, alongside the ivy’s crawling branches, have begun to cover the wall below the sill. I would like to get more vines and maybe something flowering to drape down my wall to break up the hen-&-chick-ness of it all though. On my bedroom windowsill the schefflera, now double the size, and two ferns.

Every week I water them, and every day I spritz my ferns. I keep an eye on their condition and act accordingly when problems arise- usually involving a lot of frantic googling. When I was younger, I could hardly keep anything alive and did not much care for plants, but I now enjoy the process of taking care of them, and I love how they cheer up my home. I admit, instead of feeling bewildered and nervous as I once did, I now feel a weird sense of pride and joy when it comes to my ‘garden’.

No Shampoo, three years on

I’ve not used shampoo for over 3 years now. I could write how it doesn’t feel that long but it does, in fact it feels longer. It’s become a habit now. My hair has had its ups and downs, likely due to changing locations, and experimenting with my routine. When I lived in Malaysia last year I was able to get myself down to one wash a week- water only, a silicone free conditioner on the ends. My hair looked fine. Coming back to the UK I had to push it back to two washes a week, and then I moved to uni and even that wasn’t enough. My hair was sticky and clumping together – typical of transitioning hair, although thankfully not as bad as that can get. Nonetheless it did not look good. I live in a hard water area so I decided to try a water filter. I’ve had problems with water quality from the start, but I’ve never been able to try a filter – my living arrangements have never suited it, and they seemed expensive. I currently live on my own in a rental which gives me a bit more leeway now, and so I bought myself a super cheap filter for about £10. It’s like a brita filter and not particularly sophisticated – nor do I think it completely softens my water. But it does the job. I’m back on my one wash a week routine now- water only, conditioner on the ends. My hair looks nice, I think. Its certainly growing fast enough, bringing me ever closer to my goal of classic length hair, and its become fuller, thicker looking, and has obtained a nice soft wave to it since I’ve given up shampoo. I will also always be fascinated by the texture of natural hair – my hair is fine, but appears reasonably thick, and has a very particular feel – it has a kind of a woollen texture, although it doesn’t look dry or greasy or anything.

I’ve also discovered the world of etsy. The high shipping costs acts as a barrier for me buying all the products I want. But I have become a fan of this shop. They sell inexpensive samples of their products, which allowed me to try them out. The dry shampoo didn’t do much, it made my hair look greasier in fact, but the dark hair herbal rinse is stunning. I love how soft and glossy it makes my hair, and it is admittedly nice to have that vague floral scent about my hair, when usually it doesn’t smell like anything. I splurged on the full size now and I’m going to try and use it regularly – I’m thinking once every two weeks should do. As can be seen, my hair care routine is very simple, lazy even, and involves just two products- conditioner and a hair rinse. My conditioner lasts forever and I don’t know about the rinse yet, but still, I must be saving money. And I’m certainly spending a small amount of time, which suits me.

Initially I gave up shampoo due to problems with eczema on my scalp. No-poo has helped my eczema, but my scalp remains dry, slightly flaky and itchy. I think no-poo has done more for my hair than my scalp, although my eczema is definitely better and at no risk of becoming worse/the way it was. I wish I could find some kind of moisturising scalp treatment. The hairdresser last year used this lovely product on my scalp but I cannot remember what it was. I thought it was Shiseido and googled it to find that Shiseido do sell a scalp treatment and regardless of whether it is the right one it is about £30, which is way out of my budget. I looked on etsy but all I could find were scalp creams and oils – neither of which seem particularly suited to no-poo. I have in fact tried applying a herbal eczema cream to my scalp, as well as an emollient cream, and some natural oils but they are all too thick, and its really a pain to apply, and doesn’t even seem to help. The hairdressers product was a thin liquid that sank into the scalp wonderfully, with no residue. I wish I could find something like that.

Apart from that, since giving up shampoo I’ve been thinking about what other products I use. Since I was little I’ve had sensitive skin and so I’ve had to be careful about what I wore and what I used on my skin, and despite that I’ve struggled with my skin. I’ve always felt self conscious about this. Things like- I wanted to be able to pick something off the rack and try it on without looking at the label first to see what it was made of, I wanted to be able to travel without lugging around my own products – who actually travels with soap these days when most hotels give decent shower gels? I just wanted to wear and use whatever I liked. Giving up shampoo has made me realise how unneccesary it all is though. I now walk past a whole section of the supermarket filled with products marketed as essential, but I’ve found they are not. So I try and look at these other things and instead of thinking I can’t use them, I think I choose not to. Since giving up shampoo I’ve been thinking about what products I choose to use, and am keen to experiment to find what’s best for me. I’ve become very open to alternate things – I never thought I’d be using herbal rinses and natural oils but I’ve become very comfortable with this now.

Giving up shampoo has helped my eczema get better, but it has also opened up a door to a world of beauty that is accessible to me. I have, I think I mentioned it before, become a big fan of using oils as a body moisturiser and sugar or salt scrubs for exfoliating. I’ve never been able to find a moisturiser that made my skin feel so soft and comfortable (i.e. no allergies) since discovering oils, nor have I ever been able to exfoliate. Its pretty great. I also experimented a bit with my facial skincare – trying those cleansing balms made with oils, an organic moisturiser. However I didn’t like any of what I tried. I think I’ll stick with my chemicals for my face! My face is the one area of my body which isn’t so sensitive, so I like having the freedom to play around with commercial stuff in this instance. I’m currently thinking about soap. I’ve always used very just plain bar soaps and now I’m wondering if I need even that. My hair is fine with just water, why not my body? How wonderfully lazy would it be to just use water for everything? Plus it would make travelling a lot easier!

I’m hesitant to say I’ll never use shampoo ever again, but right now I like it. I like the way my hair looks and feels, and I like the fact that through no-poo I’ve been thinking about alternate skincare, questioning what we’ve been conditioned to believe we should be doing and becoming comfortable with making my own choices.

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