About clubbing

Clubbing is one of those things where you either love it, or you don’t; and I don’t love it. In fact I hate it. I don’t get why anyone would want to spend £3 (at the very least) to essentially stand in a smoky room, unable to talk to anyone – or even hear yourself think because the music it too loud, unable to take two steps in any direction because the place is filled to capacity, and then some. The whole pint about clubbing is that you dance, but due to being incredibly self conscious, I can’t dance. That is not an over dramatization – I cannot physically dance; it makes me feel sick, self conscious (more so than normal) and I am more than likely suppressing a panic attack.

Now, I don’t care if other people like clubbing- Go, kill your feet and deafen yourself, have fun. But please sometimes take me, and people like me into consideration. I want to go out and have fun with you, I want to have a nice time, but I cannot go clubbing. Go clubbing, by all means, but not all the time. Please. Going clubbing every time you go out makes me feel left out because I don’t go with you. I cannot fully enjoy myself at pre-drinks because I am aware there is no point in me even being there. When I feel left out, I do stupid stuff.

I am fully aware not going is ‘my own choice’, and that I ‘could come if I wanted’. But that’s it, I cant  come, clubbing makes me worse. I cannot put myself through that. What I am asking of the people who like clubbing is that occasionally, not all the time, but every now and again, you consider your friends who do not like clubbing, and that you just go to bars and pubs instead. The reason I ask this is because you don’t need to go clubbing to have a good night. Clubbing will ruin mine. – please take note of that.

P.S – I do not mean to sound whiny, please don’t take it as such. I just cant communicate with people all that well.

Why the world is good.

I was thinking today, about how beautiful everything is. Recently Bath had the first frost of the winter, and as the sun rose, it misted close to the ground, looking very pretty.
As I’ve said previously, the campus I am on is very beautiful, some buildings dating back to the 15th century.
Also, I watched something today which was a wonderful mix of science, Doctor Who and Brian Cox. It talked about black holes and imploding stars (one in the same).

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About Uni again.

I think I might have worried my seminar tutor today. We had to write about a memory from our child hood, but I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t write about a best friend, a worst enemy, a favourite place or a place I escaped from. I couldn’t do that. So I sat there calculating my root out of the room, just in case.

It turns out, though, that another girl in the seminar had a similar experience, and she read that one out. Her worst year was year 5, like mine. Except she was physically bullied in a very extreme way, where as I was mentally bullied. I’m not sure which is worse. They’re both equally bad, except psychological bullying is more covert. More cowardly, almost. It’s not as easy to see as physical bullying. That’s the only difference really - visibility.

Random post about Uni.

I have recently started university, and by recently, I mean middle of September. This has seen me do several things I have never done before. Like cook proper meals for myself and others. Or an entire load of washing. Or kissing boys (my first kiss while drunk at a club). It has also seen me drink an awful lot of alcohol, and start hurting myself again. That’s the only bad thing.

I have met so many wonderful people, and I am interacting with them better than I could possibly imagined. From a girl who wouldn’t so much as look at someone she didn’t know to starting conversations with them, I am proud. And by coming to university I have met a whole range of lovely kind people, and those within my block are like a second family of sorts. This is what sparked off this post, the two boys asked me if I needed anything from the shop, completely unprompted.

I’m not used to that kindness from people I’m not related to.

Another thought.

Depression / feeling depressed is a weird thing when you’re a teen or a young adult. I mean, it could be actual clinical depression, or it could just be hormones. I have anxiety problems, and have done for over ten years, and this has developed into feelings of depression. I’ve had councillors and all that, but it always comes back. I’m not sure it even goes away at all. I’ve been on medication, and it is still there even with that.

But I have gotten very good at lying and putting on a face. Well, either I put up a good front, or none of the people around me notice. I am always so very lonely, even when I am surrounded by people. It’s a weird feeling. I just feel empty so much of the time. And I want so much to be loved. Just by one person. Just to hug. Or vent to. To just talk about random things, smile and laugh together. But it is seeming less and less likely I’ll ever find it. It’s becoming more and more difficult to make it through the day. It’s becoming more difficult to leave my bed. It’s becoming more difficult to do anything. I’m not sure how much of this rollercoaster I can take. I’ve been considering buying scalpels. That’s how it’s been going.

I must say, I’ve never been officially diagnosed with depression or anything, although the doctor did query depression when I was thirteen.

A thought on bullying and snake bites.

As a young girl, in primary school, I was very badly bullied. This I find, has affected me through out my life, and still continues to blight it, despite escaping from that school ten years ago now. It’s funny that these things affect us, but they do, and there’s not much that can be done about it now. I’m an eighteen year old girl who still gets the reoccurring nightmare that ruined her sleep when she was eight. I’m an eighteen year old who is scared of new people. Who cannot talk to her family properly – I tend to go very quiet when aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents are around even when they have never done anything mean to me. I am an eighteen year old who, like so many others, wanted to die. But I didn’t. I got help.

The bullying I received at school has affected me in the same way abuse affects people, according to one counsellor. She said, if she didn’t know better, she would have thought I was abused. But because it was by a peer group, it can only be ‘bullying’. Nothing worse, right? I am the first to admit my experience could have been worse, but if you try to tell me that I should ‘get over it’ or that it ‘wasn’t that bad’ because I wasn’t physically hurt I shall be less than forgiving.

This is the part of the post in which my  title may start to make some sense – Bullying is like a snake bite. You notice it, but nobody else really does, its quick, it slips below the defences. That bite carries with it a little bit of poison that you then carry around in your veins. the snake may have provided the poison, but you are the one who spreads it around your body to cause further damage. The poison you circulated destroys you from the inside.

Now bullying is a lot like a snake bite. Each separate event – a name calling, a push, a sneer, an exclusion – is like the bite, it injects a little poison in you. They might not think much of it, it was only something little after all, but you spread that poison. You take it further and carry it around and let it destroy you because you cannot do anything else.

Like snake bites, there is a cure (of sorts) it’s not quick and its not easy like an antidote, but it does get better. I am only just confronting it now, after a decade of shit. And that is since I left the school, not since the bullying started. It might get worse before it gets better. But it will get better.