Not a depressed post or self-pity. Just a reflection.
The process of getting up and into university threw me a lot on Monday and I found myself completely on edge as a result of being angry at myself. In no way am I incapacitated or debilitated by some crippling condition. Which I think is why I get so angry at myself when simple days feel like too much.
I literally spent hours thinking about if and how I could drop out of this course and finally admit defeat and hold my hands up to being an academic impostor, with few ideas and no ability. I still wonder if getting a 2:1 bit my confidence harder than I expected - certainly the question of funding has loomed larger over me and the awareness that I am spending time prevaracating and working for money when I should really be immersed in studying. Asking advice from others is a hard one at this stage because we all have our different methods and priorities. I guess I feel that I have yet to prove my worth in terms of just being here - I talk the talk but the walk is what terrifies me.
Resolutions are there. Not really happening as well as they could be. I'm going to give the fake nails another go (theory being that I won't bite them off too quickly, although the conference at the weekend saw me destroy all ten during one presentation). I started 'stalking' (my term for looking at the blog of someone from the past, no illegality I'm afraid) again yesterday and still can't figure out why it feels so compulsive. I know I don't want to do it, because I don't want to hurt him, or jeopardise my current situation in any way shape or form. Part of me thinks its self-assurance, another part is convinced it's self-destruction.
I do have a swimming lesson booked on Monday. This is progress, I hope.
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