Dear Diary – 14th/15th/16th January 2006

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Saturday 14th January 2006

When I’m alone a million fears creep in. I get insecure, anxious, panicky; but the second I’m with O, I find those fears evaporating. I almost wish they didn’t, because then I find it impossibIe to talk about my thoughts and I really need to. He goes to Hull for training on Monday and I’m worried how I’ll cope with not being able to just call him or go for a coffee together.

Every week I get nervous about going in to college on Tuesday, but the thought of going back next week makes me feel sick. I really don’t know what I’m going to do about the course; it’s looking more likely that my health – long and short term – is going to make it difficult. I’m desperate to get the anaemia sorted before it kills me; who would have thought that something so common coud feel so horrendous. I’ve lived with it for six months now and I just want to stop feeling so tired and drained. I’m 21, yet I feel like an old woman.

I think I need to write a letter to O and give it to him in person. I know that if I try to speak, it will all come out wrong. I don’t want him thinking I want us to split up or anything; that’s the last thing I want. The thing I’m trying to prevent. Perhaps I’m blowing things out of proportion anyway; it wouldn’t be the first time.

Sunday 15th January

Found it hard to get to sleep last night. The room was too hot and my legs were restless, my mind clunking along. Lay in the dark with my leg touching O’s and thought too much. As usual.

I feel guilty for staying at his every weekend; I worry I’m imposing on his family and putting them out. O says it’s fine but I’m not sure it is. I wish we had enough money to get somewhere to live, but that seems impossible. It’s embarassing, wondering if his family can hear us having sex, having to go through the living room to get to the loo, being seen with no make-up on. I suppose I don’t think enough of myself to believe I could be welcome.

Monday 16th January

Woke up thinking about college tomorrow; I’m dreading it. I’m so convinced I’ve made a mistake with my career choice*. I feel like I should go back to something academic, my brain feels useless. I’m not used to more manual thinking and it’s just not me. I worry I’ll turn out losing the things I know; I’m already having trouble remembering stuff and backing down far too easily in debates. I was devastated when my memory didn’t return after the overdose, so what if this is the same thing, happening again for a different reason?

O got to Hull okay. He had to go on his bike, which I admit I was a bit worried about but I don’t want him to lose his job. As much as I hate him working at the bike dealership (where everybody hates me) he needs to do it. Like college; I hate it but I have to do it for money in the future. It all seems to come down to money at the moment.

*hairdressing

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9 Comments

    • Thanks for reading luv; I know these are a bit boring because they’re old diary entries, but it’s interesting to me to see how I’ve changed. It shows the BPD at its worse (well, later entries do) and it’s strange to look at that behaviour with hindsight. I thought I was being totally rational at the time when I went off on one because O was five minutes late calling me :/

  1. I totally get the fear of school. I graduated high school in the year 2000, since then have attended 5 colleges and have had 7 majors. I actually have over the amount of college credits to equal a 4 year degree, but no degree. I’m still in school right now and constantly wonder if I will ever finish…and if my degree program is right for me… and if I’ll be successful in the job or even be able to work… etc. Thank you for sharing!

    • I know the perpetual student feeling well; though my late teens and early twenties, I did so many pointless courses. Hairdressing was just yet another of them. I stuck it out until half way through year two, then gave up. It didn’t suit me, it depressed me, and I just couldn’t cope. It’s strange being able to look back now I know how wrong the choice was for me. At the time I thought hairdressing would save my life and get me a career.

      I think being classed as a mature student made it harder. I was only 20-something, but I was seen as a bit old. I felt like a failure when I stood near a group of teenagers, moving on with their lives in a normal timeline.

      What degree programme are you doing?

  2. Pingback: Dear Diary: 17th/19th January 2006 « Halfway Between The Gutter And The Stars

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