It’s currently RAG Week. I’m currently sitting alone in my room trying to do an assignment. It’s post-break-up and pre-one-of-my-best-friends-leaving-the-country-for-five-months and I’m feeling very, very sorry for myself. Maybe I’m just tired. Maybe it’s the obscene amount of college work I have to do. Maybe I miss home. Maybe I was at home last weekend (briefly) and maybe that’s not enough.
I just feel vulnerable right now. Like, post-cider vulnerability. But it’s not that: I was in bed by half eight last night, having done my washing and ironing and cooked my dinner. I’m kind of anti-RAG Week and pro-domesticity. Actually, I’m just pro-distractions at the moment. But I’ve run out of steam. I knew this week would be tough. Post the actual “talk” (or cyber version thereof), I knew that this was real. Not a joke or a phase or a whim. A real life thing that leaves me back where I started. Sort of.
I keep telling myself that nothing’s changed, not really. I mean, the long distance wasn’t exactly going too well anyway (even as far as I was concerned, and I was oblivious to the whole being cheated on thing) so what’s the difference now? Well, now I don’t get the occasional one-word text that so infuriated me before. So that’s a good thing, right? Maybe. But before I could convince myself that someone loved me and just had a strange way of showing it. Now I’m left in no doubt that actually no one loves me. Cool.
Of course I’m being melodramatic but what else is there to do? And who else is there to complain to? I don’t want to bore my friends so instead I’ll convey my woes to the internet. John Steinbeck said, “Don’t make everyone know about your sadness,” but Anne Lamott said (and I 6,000% agree with her), “You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should’ve behaved better,” but Beyoncé said, “I’m not gon’ diss you on the internet ‘cause my mama taught me better than that.” In other words, I’m getting a lot of mixed messages. But I’m sad and frustrated and this is where I vomit up my feelings. Maybe it makes me feel validated. Maybe I am looking for attention in all the wrong places.
I am doing all I can at the moment to sustain normality: I’m still going to class and reading and doing assignments. I’m still bathing. That’s something, right? Most other aspects of my life have gone downhill though. College is a priority right now so the rest of my life isn’t as noticeable. What even is the rest of my life? I get consumed by one thing or another and right now I am obsessed with having a Golden Semester. I don’t have room in my brain for much else. But when assignments get boring, other things creep in. And now it’s self-loathing and nihilism and the whole lot.
I just want a hug.