(no subject)
I'm always gloomy over summer. It reminds me of old lost friends and school and horrible drama because there's nothing else to do but turn on each other. The only summer I have real fond memories of in recent years is 2006. It was the year I had the most friends, the year I went to download for the first time and the year I met Adam. It's like, all the good stuff life had in store for me was thrown at me during those few hot weeks. soon after that my life turned to shit. I got kicked out/quit college, friends died, I fell into a severe, deep and unrelenting depression, lost most of my other friends through crumbling social bridges and in losing them I lost most of myself.
I wanted to die. Every day. For three years.
Adam was the only person that knew. I never even told my mother.
Not many people really know the extent of the depression and it was only after I started sorting my life out that I started talking about it to people.
I began fixing myself, I re enrolled at college, got the necessary grades to get into university and there I ended up. On a mediocre course that focuses more on pretence than on actual talent. But it doesn't even matter to me because anything ANYTHING is better than sliding back into what I used to be. So stick with it, I shall.
This summer is the first in four years that I have began to feel a fraction of my old self. I've started clawing back all the scattered pieces of the puzzle and it feels good for the first time. It feels good to feel anything other than total fucking despair for the first time in 3 years. I've made friends again, ones that I actually want to be around without feeling misplaced or like I'm wasting my time around and for that I am more grateful than I could ever properly articulate. I've been to another country on my own [well, with Adam] I got to see two of my favourite bands twice. I have accumulated more memories and good feelings in the past 4 months than I could ever have hoped to achieve in the three WASTED years I spent wanting to just ...stop being.
I will waste no more time. The time I have spent is irreplaceable and for wasting it, I can never forgive myself. But I will move on and I will achieve contentment one day. I don't care if I'm poor, I don't care if my tutors are dissatisfied with the choices I make regarding MY art style and subject matter [and neither should anyone else on the course] the only thing that matters is happiness. The only thing that matters is fixing myself.
I move back to Bournemouth tomorrow and I couldn't be happier about it. I'm ready to turn the past 4 months into the next 4 years, we'll see where I go from there.
I wanted to die. Every day. For three years.
Adam was the only person that knew. I never even told my mother.
Not many people really know the extent of the depression and it was only after I started sorting my life out that I started talking about it to people.
I began fixing myself, I re enrolled at college, got the necessary grades to get into university and there I ended up. On a mediocre course that focuses more on pretence than on actual talent. But it doesn't even matter to me because anything ANYTHING is better than sliding back into what I used to be. So stick with it, I shall.
This summer is the first in four years that I have began to feel a fraction of my old self. I've started clawing back all the scattered pieces of the puzzle and it feels good for the first time. It feels good to feel anything other than total fucking despair for the first time in 3 years. I've made friends again, ones that I actually want to be around without feeling misplaced or like I'm wasting my time around and for that I am more grateful than I could ever properly articulate. I've been to another country on my own [well, with Adam] I got to see two of my favourite bands twice. I have accumulated more memories and good feelings in the past 4 months than I could ever have hoped to achieve in the three WASTED years I spent wanting to just ...stop being.
I will waste no more time. The time I have spent is irreplaceable and for wasting it, I can never forgive myself. But I will move on and I will achieve contentment one day. I don't care if I'm poor, I don't care if my tutors are dissatisfied with the choices I make regarding MY art style and subject matter [and neither should anyone else on the course] the only thing that matters is happiness. The only thing that matters is fixing myself.
I move back to Bournemouth tomorrow and I couldn't be happier about it. I'm ready to turn the past 4 months into the next 4 years, we'll see where I go from there.