Little Miss Repeat

I should just stop being nice to people.Then they'll know I'm not going to just drop everything in a moment to pick up the pieces they have left scattered everywhere.

I'm not saying that I wouldn't help someone in need. If someone comes to me and is in pain, physical or mental, I will try what I can to help, but I have my limits. People just don't seem to realise that I have these limits. My housemate has been tearing the place apart, she locked me out of my house and brought the police around. There is only so much I can take, and that is my limit, and she doesn't seem to get that.I'm not going to hurt myself trying to look after someone else, because right now that is what she has been doing to me, dragging me down to her level. It's so very hard trying to act mature when someone else is acting like a child.

From the start, I'd like to point out I am no perfect housemate. I am messy, I will leave any job till the last minute if I can. But I will mostly keep myself to myself, which is not to everyone's tastes but it is just how I am. I will not go looking for trouble, I will chat kindly to people when I see them but don't expect me to purposefully chase you down each and every day and ask 'how are you?' for the sake of it. I, quite frankly, can't be bothered, because it's quite pointless in my opinion. If someone wants to talk, they should go up to you and say 'hi'. Then you say hi, and a conversation is struck up. Amazing. But strangely enough, at the end of the day, my life revolves around me, as I assume is the case with 90% of humans.

As I said, I am a nice person. Or at least I think so. I'll always try and help someone in need. I open doors for people in wheelchairs when in a massive rush (this happened today). I will stay up all night if I think someone needs it. And I'm also a pushover. If you say 'sorry' I'm likely to say 'It's OK', even if I don't really mean it, and in a few moment's I'll find myself believing it too. But I need time to forgive someone. When I'm irked, and someone continues to irritate me, it gets worse and worse and worse and worse and won't get better until given some decent space. This is what is happening to me now.

I can't even think straight, I'm so angry - angry that she is angry at me when I've done everything humanly possible. /le sigh.

Activity log

11.30-12 wrote blog, felt good to go back to something good
12-1 went to get food for tonights performance. Popped into work - apparently they've had
a flood! It feels like the place falls apart without me, even though I knew there was nothing I could have done anyway. Being in, even just fot a few minutes, made me feel good. I'm in control there.

Fix or replace

It has been a while since i've done my blog. I've just got off the phone with my counseller - yes, after many months of refusing I have finally given into taking a counsellors advice. It was something I was dubious about because of work - work is my happy place, and anything that interfeers with that is not worth mentionomg. I worked a way around it though, and now all of my counselling is phone calls. Which brings me to my main point.

My counsellor suggested creating an activity log, a recording of my time. Right now, I have no idea where all my time seems to go, so it will definitely be good to see. So the next few blogs will be used as that. I've also been given homework - I didn't have the heart to warn her how terrible I am at homework, and how that is the reason I failed university. But, though it defeats the point, proving to her that I can do it will hopefully be enough drive to work - even if I end up doing it at the last minute.

So, 11.30-12 - writing a blog.

The trouble with healing

I went to the doctors today. I feel like I've both achieved a lot and nothing at all. She asked me if I would like a counsellor but I was skeptical. Talking never really ever has done anything but make my depression worse, the last thing I need is to face more. I have been given some anti-depressants, which I've been told to seriously consider before I take them since most people end up staying on them for a year. With my history of depression, I imagine mine may be even longer. So, two steps forwards, two steps back.

I've realised something strange, though. Cutting was the line I said I had crossed and so needed help. There is plenty of help sites on the Internet, though all seem particularly patronising... But when it comes to help with self harm I found myself confused. I found an online leaflet which had the title 'this is or those unhappy with their self harming' and it made me think... Am I unhappy with self harming?

My doctor told me she would never ask someone to stop cutting if it helped them do more serious things. And right now I do want the depression to go away, I need it to so desperately. But self harm is the only thing that makes me smile, laugh, able to sleep and get through the next day. I don't want to be reliant on something so harmful, but it's my one pleasure in life that I have right now.

I want to stop being in a place where I feel the need to cut, but I don't want to stop my guilty pleasure. I hate being reliant on it, but I love it so.

But I would like to be able to wear a swimming costume... Though with the amount of bruises on my legs from work a couple of cuts wouldn't be noticeable at all.

Filthy liar

I've just had an eye appointment. I've just made a doctors appointment and a hair appointment. And I told the optician that my health was fine. So what was I meant to say? That I have a doctors appointment for no reason? It kind of feels like that now, since I partly don't feel like I was lying when I said my health was fine.

I told them that I'd been having trouble seeing things due to stress, which is what I can understand to be true. But boy did I downplay it. I think the only reason why I don't say the line 'it's fine' more than I do because I write a character who goes through life saying that and it frustrates everyone around him. Some days there's little difference between myself and my characters.

I looked in the mirror today, looked at myself and imagined the shorter hair I missed. It is an odd feeling to muse about being a man while putting on makeup. Sometimes I think I'd make a better man than a woman, though by far it's not enough to justify doing anything or even thinking about it as a problem. As I said, I was putting on make up, I have jewelry, and while this is a once in a blue moon thing to do, it's also a once in a blue moon start.

I don't want to go to the doctors on Friday. I feel like it's nothing, maybe it is nothing. Surely it is pointless to go for something not only petty, but a feeling I've fought off for years. This isn't my first depression, nor will it be my last I hate to say. I have dealt before, but I've never faced anything quite like this before. I cut myself, surely that's the line to ask for help? But the only reason im excepting that as the line is because there are no other lines from now but the point of no return.

More

Writing helps me a lot during the difficult times. I don't turn to writing because I feel that it helps, though. I turn to it because I feel that I need it. When I can't allow myself to have other breaks to this feeling, to stop myself from doing something as harmless as typing a few words would be stupid.

I have told two of my friends how far I've been going through this. I have strict orders to go to make a doctors app tomorrow, which is fair and good advice. And though I know it's right, I still want to talk myself out of it. I don't want to go. I feel like I known what they'll say anyway, but at the same time I don't know. Bit if someone can help break this I'll take that chance.

So, tomorrow is doctors and eye appointment. I hope at least one of them can help me.

Ive found I'm even suffering at work. I feel lost, unwilling to take on more jobs especially when they include talking to the customer. And I live in a place where 'alright' is a greeting. No, thank you, I'm not alright.

At least I've been talking to my friends in Liverpool. I think the chance to live with at least one of them might be really achievable. The hard part is of course getting the job in the first place. Difficult while you don't live there and websites have much to be desired.

I still need to check out pgl for a job. Apparently they offer accommodation with a job. I'll look into it now.

Days to forget

*emo emo emo*

For the record, I don't particularly enjoy writing about depression. It's depressing. I don't like writing about self harming or thoughts of suicide or whatever, because really they sound like cries for attention and with anyone else I would assume that they are. That's entirely why yesterday was the very first day that I told anyone at all. But when you sit and know that without distraction you will no doubt take some kind of sharp object to your skin, writing is so very theraputic.

Today was a.... well, I can't decide if it was a good day or a bad day. I feel like I have my best friend, a friend that I know will always be there for me and that finally I can talk to someone - someone that'd not on the other side of a computer screen - about anything. And while this is of course a good thing, you end up dragging up the bad with such depth that as soon as you are left alone you are left spiralling back into the mosquito nest of depression.

So I have come to several conclusions. Firstly, if I can read a book in a week, then I will let myself open to the oppurtunity of possibly starting a English course. If I don't manage that, then really there is no point.

Secondly, either way I want to move to Liverpool. I have friends there, a sense of purpose there, I know which streets are good and which aren't, where is cheap and where to avoid, and there's such a strong student life that when I need a house, if I can't convince some of the friends who already live there to find a place with me, there are many places with a place for me. I need to get out of this place. I need to get away. And I need aspiration.

I need an end.

Good days and bad days

Why is it that the best days are always so shortly followed by the worst? Now I am a woman of logic and statistics, I know that surely this can't be true, but it certainly seems to be the case here.

Yesterday was amazing. Work was incredibly fun, we got mcdonalds and everything, and then I spent my evening talking to my friend on skype, having a lovely bath and a cheeky glass of baileys.

Today, however, has not been so good. I woke up to find my alarm hadnt gone off, though luckily I was still in good time for work. But then at work, everything that could have gone wrong did. I won't go into details, since my company might kill me, bit needless to say it was just 'one of those days'. And now I'm with my best friend who is crying over her lost boyfriend, who has hardly been fair to her at all, and me debating whether to tell her that I need a hospital appointment, or that for the past few weeks I have been cutting myself.

Congrats to me, that's the first time I've ever admitted that to anyone. Not that that really counts as anyone. Now, to see what's taking her so long....

New year

And so we welcome a new year, 2011, a time for thinking back on our last year and thinking forwards to how the next will be far better. At least, thats the theory. This year has been one which I'm not proud to look back on, just as this is the year I look back to every other year and quite frankly I'm ashamed of what little and how much I have done.

Now would be the good point to turn around and say how I could make the next year the best ever, the new years resolutions which let us fool ourselves that we might move forwards. I have never felt so low about myself, my future, my present... I have no aim, very little that I am responsible for and all around me my friends struggle with the real world problems that have yet again skimmed past me and left me feeling numb. I almost feel jealous of their pain.

I'm sorry for ending the year on a bad note, so let's think of what is to come.

Next year I turn 21, next year I will hopefully have somewhere to live and a job. Next year, just a few hours away, seems so long a wait until it starts.

So here's to another year, just like the other year. I hope to be asleep by midnight but the rate I'm going it seems doubtful. See you next year

To Blog or Vlog?

So, I've been scanning youtube and it recommends me these cute little funny blog videos. I love them, and would love to do one.

Then I remember that I hardly keep up to date with my blog. Hm.

Yeah, I know, I'm a lazy so-and-so. Well, not so much lazy as... ok, yes, lazy. But I have been doing some things. I've just managed to get a new skin on our amazing rping forum, and it's looking fantastic! I'm so proud of our work, it was great teamwork I have to say. Also, I managed to sell and send off my xbox and ds, got a pretty decent price for them both too so I can't complain on that front :D

Wow, Hm, I was thinking this would end up much longer. The one time I have some actual things that happen to me and it ends up making my blog half the length as usual. Do I really just ramble that much?

Yes, Dani, you do.

Baby Internet

The internet is a magical place where you can look for one thing and find something completely different. I was looking at College Humour, which is a brilliant site with really funny videos. One of these was about 'Four Loco', which I had to check to Wikipedia page about. Wikipedia is running another appeal for money, and the article about this said it was the 5th biggest website on the internet. Curious, I went to see what the others were, bringing me to this page; Google Top 1000 of which I saw that blogger.com was quite high up and so leading me here.

Small world, huh?

But the strange thing is that it is a small world, or at least a small internet. You think of the internet as some great thing, and it's so strange that you see the sites on this list and within my lifetime I've seen these sites go from nothing to 'that looks cool' to multi-billionaire corporations. Hell, I still remember the days where facebook sucked compared to bebo!

I still find it strange to think of the internet as being as old as it is, though. I am young, and I remember a time when I didn't have internet, but it's hard to wrap your head around the idea that some of these sites have been around for longer than ten years, and more that that you've been on them for so long. The first website that I have a real track of my use is neopets, where I have an account which is six and a half years ago... six and a half years may not sound too long sometimes, but other times it seems like an eternity.

It almost makes me think.... what the hell are we actually still doing? We've had ipods for the past 4 years, phones which can use internet for the last three, broadband for about four or five... in the years before these it seemed that everything moved so quickly, we created new things all the time. Have we just stopped creating, just spending all our efforts on making what we have better? And these constant improvements seem don't seem to be things necessarily better. I won't mention a certain phone of i...

So what has the last five years or so given us recently? A flat sheet which costs the earth and does the exact same as a tiny laptop? Everything a little faster and a little more broken?

Still, as much as I hate that we aren't changing there is a sense of place when you look at the list of the top sites and get a certain warmth from recognising the ones which you were a part of, the ones that you helped make great.

A free weekend

I've been working at my local Argos for just over a month now. When I say that I enjoy it, people seem to give me such a blank stare, turn and laugh and say something along the lines of 'just wait until you get into it'. But it's been a month now and I'm feeling more comfortable but enjoying it no less. It's always different, but still the same things. It's really a job that I enjoy, the right amount of repetition and real work. I am a good thinker, I know that I am an intelligent girl, but that doesn't mean that I want to actually use this for a job, I have enough of using my head outside of my work. I like to write and read, I like to learn new things about science, but I don't want these things to be a job.

Whenever I have time off it seems a shame. I actually don't have much of a social life outside of work and my computer and it's nice to see some people, co-workers and customers (even the ones I'm glad to see the back of). It may only be part-time, I may only be able to get a few hours a week, but I keep wanting more, for money and for being able to say that I'm doing something worthwhile.

This is a weekend off for me, the first weekend off in a while. I got the nickname 'Sunday Stealer' after three weeks in a row I managed to be given other people's Sunday shift. And now I'm off for a Sunday, and a Saturday, and even a Monday. There's not a lot left for me to do except go back to my old way of sitting in front of the computer watching the time go by unnoticed.

But the reasons why this weekend was different was because it was the first one I smiled at the idea of having free time. It wasn't because I'm worn out, because I've only worked two days in the last seven days and been doing so very little in the time-being. And it's not that I've lost my enjoyment for my new job either, it just feels... nice to have time off.

Having a job really does teach you what a 'day off' means. When you have no work, every day you find a job, I have a website which I continue to pour my heart and soul into and that while I had no job was my job, and something like that you never have a day off. But now with Argos, I have real job, and the site can go back to being my enjoyment.

So, in conclusion...
#I'm living for the weekend!#

Oh, and check it out - http://shop.ebay.co.uk/diviniongc/m.html?_nkw=&_armrs=1&_from=&_ipg=25
Shameless advertising, I know. But I'm trying to sell my xbox 360, my DS and a few books. I've been still finding it a big struggle with money so I do need these sold. <3

Just another l*zy day

Today is a day of rest, actually its almost a week of rest, but it seems that it's a day too late.

As I mentioned last time, the fireworks were on the Saturday and I would like the say that I was calm and collected but really I wasn't. The fear of being scared was more overwhelming than my actual phobia, and it ended up with me being very.... very frighteningly quiet. And when I did speak my words were fast and disjointed. Every time I heard a bang I would look to the window, even though the curtains were closed, and not be able to move until I knew that there wasn't going to be another. My senses were alert and driving me insane. I was terrified. I ended up going down to my local supermarket, just for something to do because I couldn't stay in the house while I could hear them.

I managed to sleep quite early, even while I could still hear them outside. It just got to the point where I was too tired to be scared, because the adrenaline had completely worn me out. I didn't sleep well, and I was at work the next morning. I was half awake for the first hour or so, before remembered what had made me so tired, and then I was on edge. I remember holding the keys so tightly that my hands would hurt, just to try to force myself to calm down. By afternoon I was fine, though.

So today's day off is a day too late, but I suppose I can't complain about having worked yesterday. It was supposed to be someone else's shift, and I have officially been dubbed 'Sunday Stealer' at work because three times in a row now I have taken someone else's Sunday shift that they did not want. But Sundays are time and a half, so I love them.

But my problem is that I'm not working until Friday. It seems strange that I've gone from being completely unemployed with nothing to do but sit in front of the computer for weeks, and now the idea of four days off in a row is so daunting. I'm worried about not getting enough money, about not having enough social interaction, about having nothing to do. I will manage, the days go by easier than you could ever hope I know, but I would still rather be doing something with my time.

It's been too long

After deciding that I really want to do some blogging of some sort again, I of course remembered my old site. There may not be any followers, but I still feel the love from this old place. I've been reading through my old updates and they really bring a smile to my face, as I remember the things that I've gone through and the lessons that I've learnt. In some ways I was reluctant to return, because I have changed so very much in the last year and I half I barely even recognise myself. But a part of changing is respecting where you've come from, and it's always good to see the difference.

So, a lot has changed. I did return to said boyfriend of my post, I even got engaged to him before we finally split up about a year earlier. It wasn't a bad break up, and it was my choice. I felt good about it, as good as you could feel anyway, until I started to get angry about the whole roller-coaster ride that he put me through, all of the times that I gave everything and got nothing in return, the things I couldn't even begin to put words to... I am still angry, sometimes, when we speak, and so I try to just avoid talking to him as much as possible. We haven't spoken face to face since then, and maybe that is for the best. I would be so sorely tempted to take that smile off his face with my fist...

But then, you always hate the ones that you loved the most. I'm glad there's no love left, but in a way it makes me sad that I've lost it. One day I'll have the feeling back, with someone that deserves my time.

But for now, I'm more than content being single. It has been a while, so sometimes it does get hard, but the friendships that I have keep me going and I remember how many times I felt like being in a relationship just wasn't worth it. Its not to say that I'll never be with anyone again, but you won't see me crying over simply having me, myself and I.

I also quit university. I was struggling, hating my course and hating the loneliness. I loved Liverpool and the city, but I just couldn't afford to stay there without my student loans. Even now I'm struggling to get my deposit and rent back from my old house and it has been far too long. So, to pass the time I've recently got a part-time temporary Christmas job in Argos. The hours are short, which really takes it out of the pay packages (not to mention that there's been a mix-up with the pay so I'm owed money on that side of things too) but the work is actually fun, it puts a smile on my face. I like to see things actually being done, a customer comes in and you take them through the system, and they leave having what they want. In maths, you worked and worked and nothing ever came of it. There was the thrill of having an answer, but if you didn't know whether it was right or not there was nothing gained from it, and as the days went on even that feeling went away.

So, that's my life. Of course there is more, but it's fireworks night and... I'm scared of fireworks, so I'm going to the shops before they start. TTFN <3

Watch this Space

I've pretty much lost the concept of time.

I woke again with my alarm for the pill, realising that I would never make it in time to my 11am tutorial when the alarm went off at 10.55, no matter how close my flat was to the University.

Catch up? On Tuesday night my world crashed around me as my boyfriend split up with me. First, I could feel a hole where an organ had been. Then it felt like it was filled with bricks, a painful solid mass that weighed an impossible amount. Then, today it turned to gravel, grating and feeling both like a hole and a heavy filling at the same time.

I had made an awful mistake last night, and in a moment of what I thought was clarity I asked him how he was on MSN. I wanted to know he was alright. His MSN screen-name was far too fitting to be ignored; 'it's only been a day, but it's like i can't go on. i just wanna say, i never meant to do you wrong.' I wanted to tell him he never did me wrong, to take care of himself, to manage.

The day went better than expected. Two of my friends weren't there, which I was actually glad about; it meant that the one friend that I could talk to about things that really matter in Liverpool was able to just talk to me. It felt good to say.

I've had support from friends, all accepted though some appreciated more than others. I couldn't help feeling a slight tingle up my spine as my last ex boyfriend and the boy who'd almost asked me out last time me and him split up both jumped in to help, knights in shining armour style. Their intentions may have been sincere, but I couldn't help feeling that it was not the help I wanted, and not purely selfless on their half.

But this all changed a few moments ago when he opened a MSN conversation.

He wants me back.

The explanation was sincere, the pain was real. Should I get so much perverse pleasure over the man I still am hopelessly in love with being in so much pain? Is it right that I've felt that I've finally got what I've been wanting from him after all this time; a painfully emotion that really shows how he cares?

I'm a drama junkie, a masochist at heart. I can't help wanting to keep these gravels where my heart should be, tearing me up inside just so I can feel something, just so I have something to battle. I've fought so hard the last two days, it seems so foolish to give up after so much effort, but then why was I fighting? To make him happy. That was the whole point of this charade, the mayrterdom; to make him happy.

For the first time through it all I thought about what I wanted.

Of course I want him, I love him. It's something stronger than the will to breath, than gravity or any laws of physics. But I've been hurt so badly, and I am so stubborn to just keep my head down and keep moving forward...

I need to know a few things from him. Will he let me know what he is thinking in future? Will he let me into his head every once in a while, stop the smiling and just be serious? Will it always be me who is left feeling like the guilty party, or could he take the blame a few times? These aren't answers I need to hear but feel, somehow.

I shall phone tonight, and wait until I am by his side.

A break-up or a reunion is nothing without a physical connection.

Day 2 of Hell

The hole had been replaced by bricks when I woke up. It took me a while to register that I was meant to be upset this morning; it was calm and thoughtless after a night of dreaming of me and him only finding out about each others lives through facebook. But when I moved it started to hurt, like somehow I'd turned suddenly into a pro weight-lifter with abs of steel. I hit against it and it felt solid, and painful.

I'd slept right through my lectures, only waking up from my alarm telling me it was time to take my pill. A lovely reminder.

I spent my day with my sister, generally letting people know as subtly as I could - mostly texting, facebook and word of mouth. My sister helped a lot with it. I knew I wanted a change - a drastic change, and the obvious route was my hair. My sister, knowing me best, forced me to go through with the idea and got me to go get my hair done with blonde and light brown highlights. I just needed to make the change in my head physical.

It was good to be able to talk about it to a stranger without feeling like I was going to fall apart, but at the same time it makes me wonder just how much it all meant to me. Then I remember the pain, the lack of breathing, the hole and the bricks that filled it, and knew I was being stupid.

I almost laughed aloud - actually, I think I did very quietly! - when the film I was dragged to announced the main character to have the same name as my ex. I could hear my sister tentatively laughing too. "It's not my day," I said.

The film, the day out, the distractions have all helped me immensly. I'd never been more tired in my life, both mentally and physically, but now I feel wide awake, like a punp of addrenalline has been injected into my blood to help combat being alone.

I don't know how well I'll sleep tonight.

Know, the thing that keeps creeping up on me is one thought; how is he feeling? A sadistic part of me knows he is a good person but still wants him to suffer, to see him suffer, not because he's done anything wrong but because it would show that he once cared about me. In all honesty, I've been waiting for him to be hurt by me for a long time, to show I can hurt him by being hurt myself. I'm not trying to convince myself that he's sobbing, because I know in all honesty it's probably not true; I've barely seen him shed a single tear in all the time I've known him, with all the bad things that have ever happened to him. Ignorance is the hardest part; it'll take a long time for me to stop myself from wanting to reach for the phone or internet, just to ask him a few questions. Does he miss me? Does he feel bad? Does he feel guilty? Does he want me back?

I don't think I want an answer to the last one.

I think I've forgotten how to sleep

Wow, what a day.

I started it with a boyfriend and ended it without one.

He said he needed 'space' and 'freedom', and I know how much of a fan of the single life he is. I even gave him permission, almost told him to split up with me. There was no way I could keep him in a nothingness relationship; I love him too much. Or I loved him. I'm not sure which one I'm going for yet, which one I can bring myself to say more.

I remember when it hit, the way my body just buckled over. I thought I was going to die, my heart raced so fast I could hear it and feel it in my wrists. I couldn't breath, gasping for breath over and over so I thought it was going to end.

It was easy when my flatmates were here. Almost too easy. I knew what was lying around the corner when I would be left alone, when it was time for me to sleep - but I couldn't bare to think about that. My brain rejected it, shielding me as it does if the thoughts of any loved ones dying comes to mind.

I kept grasping my neck, trying to hold onto the necklace he'd made for me. Instead my hand always fell straight to where my heart should be.

I replaced the necklace, desperate for something to fiddle with. I got rid of the photos and memorabilia mostly for his sake, mostly because I wouldn't like the idea of having someone else having those things other than the one who you love; the one who is yours. Personally, I was ready to keep them, flood out the memories and tackle them all at once, burn them away from harm. I'm mostly still doing that.

I had a picture I drew on the wall of him in his room. It had lots of other pictures, showing the distance between us, but they'd all fallen down. I kept the picture up, writing in big letters over the top 'Not Everything Has a Solution', one of the last things he said that really stuck in my mind. Leave it to the maths-geek to believe something like that.

I tried to sleep, but can't stay in bed for more than a few minutes before re-reading my book, going to the bathroom, checking my mobile, and finally going on the computer.

The thing that got me - and I have no idea why - was imagining his hands on my shoulders, rubbing them to relax me. He rarely did this, and even when he did I mostly only liked it because it was him, definitely not because he was particularly skilled at it. The image made me convulse, literally, as I had to jump out of bed.

It feels like an organ has been ripped from my body. Strangely, it doesn't feel like my heart, but right between my heart and my stomach, where the rib cage separates, there's a big hole. I feel like digging my nails into my chest, trying to rip into the hole, but for what? To remove it? How do you remove a hole without filling it?

04.09am, with next to no chance of sleep in the near future.

I wish I could die, or suddenly be dead, but I wouldn't want that. As foolish as it sounds, I'm still here for his best interest, and I couldn't bare to think what would be running through his mind if I died hours after he'd split up with me. But I want to rip out the hole.

My mind keeps wandering to hope; hope of his return, namely. Hope he'll see the 'error' of his ways. These kill me more than all the rest of the pain. If I let myself believe for one second that he would come back then I'd be waiting for an eternity, never healing.

I'd be stuck like this forever.

I'm Impulsive!!

This weekend has been a strange one.

I've been acting pretty differently, this weekend, because of this Friday. I was talking to my friends, and they were all saying that they were getting together to go to the metrocenter (a big shopping mall), which isn't too unusual. They live really far from me, and I should really be able to accept this, but I really wanted to go. I thought it would be pointless, it was already 11 on Friday, and it takes 5 hours to get there, and another to get back, so I didn't think I'd even be able to arrive on time.

Then I found out that there was a train at 03.38.

That's right, at 11 o'clock on Friday night, I decided to get a train at half three in the morning. I'd like to say it was completely impulsive and I was instantly sure, but that would be a completely lie. I ended up needing people to convince me after a few hours, and I only decided yes when my boyfriend jokingly texted me 'I dare you to come'.

It was meant to be a surprise for my friends, but in the end it turned out no one was surprised. I told my boyfriend on the phone, unable to contain my excitement. One of my friends rarely goes into Hexham, as he is in Sunderland University, so although he didn't know I would be there, he didn't particularly know otherwise. And that friend told my other friend. I was slightly annoyed I managed to surprise no one, especially considering how surprised I was that I was actually doing it. I usually need to come up with some sort of plan for weeks before I do anything, and I was panicking all the way through.

I've been pretty happy all weekend as a consequence of this. There's been no built up expectation, so no let down. It's been fresh, and exciting, and completely worth it.

I came closer then ever to consciously skipping a lesson today. For some reason, I really, really didn't want to leave Hexham. It wasn't enjoyment, or attachment to my boyfriend, or hate of Liverpool. It was this burning feeling inside of me that I just couldn't leave... I realised this was the same thing that had driven me there in the first place, and I just couldn't understand it.

I'm in Liverpool now, but it seems that all the powers-that-be were trying to get me to turn back all the journey. I arrived at Preston to see no trains to Liverpool, so I asked and they said I needed a train to Wigan... I was confused, and frightened something was going wrong, and that I wouldn't be able to do that journey easily again. At Wigan, I saw that I needed a bus to Liverpool. I figured that there must be some sort of trouble with the train lines, just as I'd suggested to my boyfriend that there might have been.

I'm at home now, and I'm still not happy. I just want to leave right now, and I don't know why. I'm almost expecting something terrible to happen here, some reason why I should have stayed at home...

Can't Sleep, Won't Sleep

Urgh... it's 00.44 and I can't get to sleep. I always seem to distract myself right as I climb into bed, then all of my tiredness ebbs away.

Tonight, I got into bed and thought... what if I was in a car accident? A strange thought, I know, but I quite often make these scenarios in my head, especially before bed, and before I knew it I had amnesia where the only person I knew was my boyfriend, and we had to work out my memories from that!

By the time my imagination ramblings were beginning to slow down, I looked at the clock. It was about midnight, when I thought my boyfriend finished work, so I texted him asking if I could phone. A few minuets later, I got a text back saying that he actually finished at 1, tonight... Then, I stupidly replied 'I might talk to you if I'm awake then', which to me triggers something in my head which refuses to let me sleep. It's the same as trying to sleep when I know that something's on, like a TV or a computer... I just can't do it!

So now I'm time-wasting, half way through the night and more awake then I usually am half way through the day. And, typically, he won't be able to talk because of being too tired from work... hopefully just having nothing else to do will convince my brain to be tired again.

I just need a hug

I've been in the University of Liverpool for just under a weak now and I'm absolutely loving it. I'm living in a flat with only two other people, and we're really close already - none of us can get over just how little time it has been since we got here. The night life is brilliant, and the guild is literally a one minuit walk away! How could it possibly be bad...?

Well, a couple of things, really...

My last post was complaining about my friend who hadn't told me all night what was happening. She explained that her phone was out of network, which didn't really explain how she couldn't just use the home phone or someone elses. Then, last night, she did it again. She told me it was because her room mate had all her friends around and she had to keep an eye on them, while she was on the phone to her Dad all night, but it still doesn't explain why she couldn't send one measly text. This is supposedly my best friend, and I just wish she hadn't come here. I feel like I should give her the benifit of the doubt and trust her, but I'm just sick of it all.

Also, Karl not being here is really starting to get to me now. I'm one step away from walking up to someone and asking for a hug, because I miss his so much. Still, I'll be back home on the 10th, and a rhythm should start on monday. That should help take my mind off stuff, right?