Monday 31 December 2012

Why 2012 Made Me





Who would’ve thought a year ago that I’d be sitting here today writing about the past twelve months? I certainly didn’t. Never mind actually having it on public display, for hundreds of people to read each week. This time last year I was insecure, timid, and most of all I was pretty broken. Sitting here tonight, I couldn’t be happier with the year I have had. Sure, there were ups and downs along the way; nothing is ever perfect. But as the title suggests, I feel 2012 has been ‘my year’. I have achieved so much – socially and personally. I hold no bitterness towards anyone (for the most part) and I have finally accepted who I am as a person and of course, who I look forward to becoming in the future.

As most of you know, the majority of my school life this year was spent in Transition Year. Many people regret this extra year, but for me it was one of the best decisions I have ever made. I learnt a lot about myself and the people I surrounded myself with. Along with all the photos and certificates I am now blessed with, I have also taken many other things from TY that no co-ordinator could ever take credit for. To be able to stand up for myself and what I believe in was a massive lesson for me. You come across so many different types of people in this life and there will never be enough hours in the day to figure all of them out. So instead, focus on figuring yourself out. Don’t change yourself for anyone; it’s not worth it. It took all of this year for me to relocate all the pieces of me I had lost along my journey the past few years, and now I am finally the person I always should have been. I have matured so much this year; I don’t even recognise myself sometimes. Teachers have even commented on the change. What can I say? I grew up.

This night last year I made a list of things I hoped to achieve in the coming year and I am proud to say I have accomplished eight out of ten. Not a bad result for a fuck up like me, eh? This year, however, there is only one thing that matters a huge amount to me – memories. Not reminiscing on them; making them. I have all the happiness I could ever ask for, now I just hope to capture it. The friendships I have now are the strongest I’ve ever had. I am determined to keep them this time around. Sometimes I sit in absolute disbelief when I think about my life. “You should write a book” is a statement many, many people have gasped when they learn of my story. At least now it looks like it could have a happy ending – unlike most of the stories involving me.

2012 has brought about some of what I consider the best parts of who I am now. The writing, for example, would never have emerged without the confidence I have gained this year. I think countless people underestimate how difficult it can be to put to paper an emotional trauma one may have experienced. Every blog post I have written has been related to my life and my own experiences. I simply hope someone somewhere will be able to relate to them and see that no amount of pain can last forever. I love the saying ‘When you’re going through hell, keep going’. Go backwards or just give up and you’re going to get burnt, right? I kept going and I can humbly and openly tell you that my scars have made me a stronger, more dignified person. I can look at my past, accept and respect my mistakes, and still take precious lessons from them.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that without every single memory I have of 2012, I wouldn’t be in the position I am now. Yes, occasionally I break down but on the whole I am far more stable and secure. I know how to deal with most situations and I feel like I would have to be pushed extremely hard to ever lose control again the way I have in the past.

I have always been one to compromise myself for others, but this newfound self-belief and confidence has shown me what a fool I have been. Once again, as most people already know, I no longer give a fuck about what people think of me. If you don’t like me, don’t talk to me. If you don’t like what I think, don’t read my blog. Simple as. I don’t hate anyone anymore; I just prefer it when certain people aren’t around. If you piss me off I’m not going to retaliate, I’m just going to write a blog about you instead. Simples.

I am curious as to what 2013 has in store for me. Will I still be writing next year? Will people still be reading my writing next year? What if I run out of things to say? Maybe a few more dramas wouldn’t be such a bad thing. After all, they’re the most interesting reads for you gossiping fuckers, aren’t they?

Saturday 22 December 2012

Drunk on the Loneliness of Solitude





With it being the festive season, I have come to the realisation that there is but one topic I could write about: being alone. I don’t just mean at Christmas, and I don’t just mean the type of alone where you are isolated and on your own. No, this kind of loneliness is much more painful. Some people are at their happiest when they are alone. I, however, am quite dangerous and even self-destructive on my own. Especially when I’m in a group of people having a “good time”. That pitiful cliché ‘feeling alone in a crowd full of people’ is sadly true for many people - myself included.

From the eyes of an onlooker, my life appears pretty good. I’m doing well in school; family life is worry-free; I’m in a relationship; I have friends. So why does this emptiness gnaw at my insides vigorously? I have no reason to feel this way, yet my heart is being dragged through a hurricane of emotions as I write this. A perfect day overshadowed by the torment of the mind. Perhaps paranoia has found a weakness in my persona; a small crack allowing room for major destruction.

How can I be fixed when, in fact, nothing is wrong? No triggers to be traced, no mistreatment to be found which may have brought about this feeling of complete isolation. It really is just me this time. Have I always been this way? Is this merely a build-up of emotions over a long period of time, leading inexorably to this collapse of stability and certainty? I am far from alone. I am surrounded by amazing people whom I am ever so grateful for, but even those that bring the greatest joy to me cannot comfort or reason for this pain I am going through. A pain of not only the mind, but the body also. Constant red, raw eyes, headaches and chest pain accompany the loneliness. A slight paradox there, it would appear.

It would be difficult for anyone to understand the frame of mind I am currently in, so therefore I have decided to express my emotions on paper rather than burden anyone with my inner issues. Apart from one or two I feel may be able to begin to console me. Unlikely though, considering how embroiled I have become in these emotions. My mind has succumbed to my heart’s cries, no – screams. These screams surfaced silently a few hours ago, bringing a tsunami of tears along with them, presumably just for good measures. Do I know why this happened? Yes. Why did it happen? Well…

If I told you I had no friends I would be lying. I have many friends. They mean a lot to me. How close they are to me, however, is a whole other ball game. In the past few years I have gone through so many groups of friends it’s ridiculous and quite frankly, it’s pathetic on my behalf. I see people that have kept the same friends they’ve had since primary school and I wonder where I went so terribly wrong. I used to have certain, solid best friends. Nowadays I still have friends, but no-one I would consider a real best friend. My old best friend has new social interests that I am yet to fathom, so we have inevitably gone our separate ways. Is it with age that we lose our bonds with people? No, once again I think this is just me.

I am not a recluse, I am innocent. This title is not one I have simply thought up of my own accord, I have been described by another as innocent. I seek happiness and enjoyment from ‘innocent’ things, such as going to the cinema or spending the day at a friend’s. I have no interest in spending my nights inebriated on a pavement down an alleyway. Or, as my age has now apparently permitted, in a nightclub surrounded by men and women twice the size (and age) of me. Because of my “boring” nature, I have found myself beginning to become a social outcast among my peers. Not because I spend my weekends behind closed doors though; if you’re looking for me during the weekend, town is your best bet. More so due to my liver being clear of any alcohol.

Has this sensibility brought about my own mental downfall and this overpowering isolation? Maybe it has, but either way I am in a lose-lose situation. I stay sober – I spend my nights alone. I go out and consume alcohol – I publically announce how alone I feel. Then again I am very publically posting a blog about it right now. Perhaps tonight I am simply drunk on emotions and perhaps tomorrow I will have sobered up, left only with a pounding headache from the night before.