There's a fly in my room. It's stupid and won't leave.

Ever since I wrote my last post, I’ve wanted to take it down. Edit it, break it apart and put it back together. But I don’t know whether that’s out of embarrassment, a feeling of failure/weakness/being pathetic, or whether it’s because I want order. I desperately want order and perfection and sense and logic and stability. I’m obsessed with it. I want meaning. If not for others, for myself. But I’m at the point now where I’m realising sometimes that’s not possible. I’m not okay with it, but I know life doesn’t work like that.

I’m struggling. Admitting it, right now. S t r u g g l i n g. I moved back home two weeks ago after three years at university and I am like a deer in headlights. And sure, I’m no different from any other graduand (that’s a real life word describing someone who has finished their degree but is yet to graduate, apparently ¯\_(ツ)_/¯). Unless you are sound in yourself, your career path, your surroundings, your opportunities (delete as applicable, just one would do), of course you’d be a deer in headlights. Hell, even if you ARE sound in yourself, your career path, etc, you can feel like a deer in headlights.  Life is fucking tough. This world is scary and mostly awful (if you need any pessimism, I have a lot to share around), and you can feel like and be the most independent little shit and still feel terrified about your future lying on just your shoulders now. No more fall back of education (if you’re not carrying on – and if you are, why, are you okay?) and knowing what’s coming next. I HAVE LITERALLY NO IDEA WHAT’S COMING NEXT, and no that doesn’t excite me, it terrifies me and has had me crying most days since I came home.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not just being dramatic about leaving the security and consistency of education. Well, I am. But I spent a lot of my last two years at my university’s medical centre or the hospital trying to work out some serious shit. It never got worked out. I won’t talk about it, I’m not ready to, and there’s a fucking lot to sift through. So I’m going to categorise it all. Do what I do best and lay it all out in sections. Then write about it. Maybe. If not for others, for myself. Yeah, I do want to help others who may have been through similar. I’d bloody love that, because I wish I had something like this to read when I didn’t have a fucking clue what was going on with me. But I’m tired of relying on others. I want to help myself. So I’m going to write it all here. Maybe when I’m smack bang in the middle of a ‘freak-out’, as I’ve labelled it to people, or maybe when I’m feeling alright and just want to get it out and write it down. I might even create a different page on here specifically for mental health. Because it’s important. It needs its own page, its own pedestal to shout from.

So I won’t delete last week’s post, and I won’t delete anything else. I know that I need to re-register with the doctor here at home and start again. That’s important. And I also know that maybe I should shut up about all this and not publicise it. Airing dirty laundry, or whatever they say.  But this is important and I care about my own health than others’ embarrassment, judgement and agendas. And if I'm honest, I just really want some support.

Anyway, I’m going to write about food next so you can all shut up and eat up.