difficult decisions and admitting that i *may* have been wrong

So, as those of you who know me personally will know, I was pretty damn certain that once I finished at therapy I would return to Brighton to finish my degree in Philosophy and English Literature. As you will also know, I am really stubborn. In fact that is an understatement. I am ridiculously stubborn. And I hate admitting that I am wrong. For a long while, I avoided even thinking about University; stuck in this little part of my brain that was stubbornly convinced that I would return to Brighton and everything would be great. I wouldn't even let myself admit that I was scared that actually it wouldn't be all that great; because last time I thought that it would be great and... well... look what happened there. Then, just after Christmas, my mother brought up the subject of University. It's hard for me to realise this, let alone accept it, but she's scared too. She's scared of how ill I was and of what might happen if I go back to Brighton. She may not have put it in the best way and it may have turned into an argument, but what she said basically amounted to her telling me she's scared for me, she doesn't think I'll be ready to go back to Brighton and she doesn't want to have to go through what she went through last time if it doesn't work out again. She wanted me to transfer to York St John. I didn't want to listen at first. There's a whole bunch of issues that goes along with this, like feeling stupid for failing Uni; feeling like I'm going backwards; feeling like a child, unable to look after myself; not wanting to end up like some people I know who are in their 40s and still live at home... the list goes on, and on, and on. I was also scared that York St John wouldn't accept me and then I'd never be able to finish my degree. (That may seem like a silly fear, but it's not for me. I have a very low opinion of myself and I genuinely cannot see why they would accept me.) Eventually, I realised I had to think about this stuff. In fact, after that conversation, I couldn't stop thinking about stuff. Getting my degree is what's most important to me now. I was lazy in my GCSEs and ALevels. And in my first year of my degree to an extent. And then my damned psycho brain decided to screw it all up even more. It was bound to happen eventually. Anyway... I've realised that what I really want is to get my degree, do a PGCE and become an English teacher. And whether I do those things in Brighton or in York, or even on the moon, doesn't matter. The important thing is to do them. Sure I don't want to live at home forever, and I won't, but right now, it's my best shot of getting a degree. And if therapy has taught me anything - actually, it's taught me a lot - it's taught me that sometimes, just *sometimes* mind, I can be wrong and I am too stubborn for my own good. So I decided to do something that I have never done in the history of ever, and I listened to my mother. *Pause for the shocked horror of my friends* I looked at the English Literature and Creative Writing course at York St John - they don't do Philosophy and actually I love writing so this course makes a lot of sense - and I emailed them about transferring. I had a lot of support and prayer from my friends in York. I've settled into a church here now - York City Church - and everyone has been so loving and welcoming and I have met so many people and made so many friends, the idea of leaving actually would make me incredibly sad. I would miss everyone, A LOT. So maybe staying in York could work out. Finally, after various emails and the University looking over my grades and everything, just over a week ago now, they said they would be happy to accept me as a transfer. I still have to do a UCAS form - I MUST be masochistic! - but I'm basically in. I wasn't expecting quite how happy this actually made me. I got in. And I get to stay in York, at my wonderful church, with all my wonderful friends. And my family, however much I argue with my mother at times, will be close by if I need them. So I've almost completed the dreaded UCAS form. I even made the daring step of contacting my academic advisor from Sussex to request a reference, which he agreed to do. I just have to do the personal statement. The worst part. The part that I tried to do last weekend and just ended up with hundreds of screwed up balls of paper all over my bedroom floor, and then have just avoided doing for the rest of the week. Funny how I can sit at my laptop and write this so easily and without a second's thought, but not write a personal statement - which is what I had originally intended to do when I sat down to my laptop earlier this evening. My skills of avoidance and procrastination know no bounds! - just don't tell my therapists... especially PHIL! Who wants me to write and draft and then take it into therapy for people to read and tell me if it's good and what else I can include, because apparently I'm too harsh a critic to myself and I just *think* it's crap but actually other people will be able to tell me it's not. Well this is just another of my many millions of issues... I cannot write about myself, especially not favourably, and I really think that most of what I write is a load of crap anyway so writing a personal statement is hell for me! As for letting other people at therapy see it?! No thank you! I don't want them realising that actually I'm really thick. And I'm really bad at taking criticism and practical advice so this is really just going to end badly. I did mention that I'm stubborn, right? I have this feeling that I'm going to just write it and send it and then make excuses next week, but I know that I really really shouldn't do that... So now I'm stuck. Because I know that the right thing for me therapeutically would be to do as Phil suggested and write a draft and let people at therapy help me, but I'm really so stubborn - and actually really fragile - that I don't know if I can do it... I wonder how this one is going to play out. Anyway... I have successfully avoided actually writing this damned personal statement for a good hour or so now... and I really should quit with the procrastination and just get on with it... Oh well, this was fun while it lasted. I'll post again sometime... not sure when. I'm pretty crappy when it comes to this blogging thing; I have no self-discipline - yet another issue I need to deal with, no wonder I'm in therapy!

Brighton

            Last Friday I travelled down to Brighton from York in order to attend a friend’s wedding on the Saturday. I was extremely anxious about the trip for several reasons. The journey itself made me anxious as I was worried that the coach or trains might be delayed or something. Then there was the fact that only was it the first time that I had been to Brighton since I moved home, but it was the first time I had been away from home on my own, even for a weekend, in over a year. Finally, I was anxious about seeing people after such a long time. There are a few people with whom I have kept in touch and I was really looking forward to seeing them. I was also really looking forward to seeing my friend Ana get married. But I have missed so much over the last year and I have also changed somewhat in that time, so I was nervous about seeing people in case they didn’t want to see me or didn’t like me anymore. I know these thoughts are irrational but I really struggle with paranoia and sometimes I get this voice in my head telling me everyone hates me and I have such low self-confidence that I struggle to not listen to those thoughts.

            The first part of my journey was a coach from York to somewhere in the East Midlands, where then got a train to St Pancras in London. The coach part of the journey was extremely anxiety-provoking as there were lots of people on the coach and I’m not good being around lots of people, especially in small, cramped spaces. I was also anxious because the front of the coach displayed the destination as Victoria Coach Station and so I was worried that perhaps it was the wrong coach, though the driver assured me it was the right one and the display was just incorrect. At some point on the journey the driver announced an unplanned detour, due to an accident on the route that we were meant to take and that there would, therefore, be a slight delay in our arrival at the train station in the East Midlands. This almost set off a panic attack as I dislike structure and plans being disrupted and I was anxious about missing the train to St Pancras and then my train from St Pancras to Brighton. To try to calm myself down I recited the alphabet backwards until I was calm enough to read, and then I hid behind my book for the rest of the coach journey.

            Fortunately the coach arrived in time for us to catch the train to St Pancras. The train was busy but I managed to find a seat and the journey was rather uneventful. When I reached St Pancras I couldn’t see my train to Brighton on the departures board and started to panic again. I got a different train but I was extremely anxious throughout the whole journey in case my ticket restricted me from getting on that train and the train guard threw me off the train or fined. I reached Brighton without being thrown off or fined for being on the wrong train. Finally I got a bus from Brighton to Shoreham-by-Sea (where my friend Katie lives) and, despite being anxious because I had never gotten that bus before and didn’t know the route, I reached Katie’s house without having another panic attack. The rest of the night was quiet; I ate dinner with Katie and her husband, Chris, and then watched a film with them before heading to bed.

            On the Saturday I had arranged to meet a couple of friends before the wedding that afternoon. I got the bus back into Brighton and met my friend Kali and her fiancé, Pete, in Starbucks. It was great to see her after so long; she’s such an amazing friend. The difference in her was just astounding. She has lost weight and seemed to be in less pain despite coming off some of her medication that was meant to help with the pain caused by her Fibromyalgia. She was also so happy; it was great to see her like that. It’s obvious that her fiancé Pete is the cause of most of this new-found happiness and I am so grateful to him because of it. We had a great catch up on Saturday morning and had fun discussing wedding plans – I’m so excited for her. After seeing her it felt like all the anxiety had been worth it, because it was like I had never gone home, in that we talked just like we did before I moved home.

            I then went to meet another friend, Janet, for an early lunch before the wedding. She has been such a rock for me the whole time I’ve been at home. It was brilliant to see her and it was great to talk and catch up with her. After lunch we headed to church together for the wedding. Almost as soon as I arrived I saw a couple of people who said hello and that they were glad to see me. They immediately made me feel like I was back where I belonged and when I got upstairs to the main meeting room, where the service was being held, I saw even more people who made me feel much better about being back there. The service was lovely and I was so glad I got to be there to see such a wonderful occasion. Ana looked so beautiful in her dress and she seemed so happy, as did Chris; they are such a lovely couple.

            After the ceremony, most of the guests went downstairs to where the reception was being held whole Ana, Chris and the rest of the wedding party had photos taken. I was at a table with several friends from church and had a lovely time talking to everyone. I was so glad I went. It was really nice to see everyone and I had such a great day. Then suddenly, for no reason, towards the end of the evening my mood started to drop off and I went to the bathroom to hide because I started to have a panic attack. I felt really low and detached and just wanted to leave. I managed to go back to the reception and carried on talking to people but I was glad when Janet came over to me and if I wanted a lift back to Katie’s. I had had a good day but I was tired and so went and said goodbye to everyone; congratulated Ana and Chris, and then left with Janet.

            After Janet dropped me off at Katie’s I chatted to Katie and her husband, Chris, for a little while before heading up to bed. On the Sunday I packed and left Katie’s to get the bus into Brighton. I had planned to go to my church in Brighton that morning and I got through the front doors and sat through the first song before I had a panic attack. I decided I couldn’t handle it and ran away from church and hid in a Costa with a cup of coffee and my book until I had to go for my train. I was really pissed off with myself for having a panic attack and running away but I just couldn’t handle being there. I was so relieved to get to the station and get on my train to London. I guess it was just a lot for me to do with where I am right now health-wise, but I’m still annoyed that I panicked and ran away.

            The return journey to York was alright but I still felt really low and detached. When I finally reached York I felt so rubbish and so mad at myself I just didn’t want to be around people so I phoned my dad and told him I didn’t feel well so wasn’t going to go for dinner. I feel bad for doing that because it was kind of a lie and I was just isolating myself because I was feeling so low. I went home and went straight to bed where I just watched stuff online until I fell asleep. In that time though, because I just felt so low and detached, I ended up cutting myself. I hate that I did it. I seem to revert back to it whenever things get too hard and I really hate myself for it.

            On Monday morning I brought into boundaries, in community meeting at therapy, that I had cut myself the night before. Everyone was understanding about it, but I still feel rubbish about it. I hope that I’ll be able to go back to Brighton again when I am a little better and maybe then I won’t have more panic attacks but for now, I think perhaps it was just too much too soon. Despite this I did have a nice time for most of the Saturday and I am really happy for Ana and Chris; I love weddings and hope one day to be able to get married myself – but that’s a whole other post.

Thanks for reading and God bless

KV