Uncategorized

Updates and all

I think that I should finally explain what this blog is after owning it for over a year.

This blog is a space where I, Regina, can freely rant and rave about anything that is troubling me. Equally, it is a place where I can choose to discuss with others about the trials and tribulations of being a 19 year old teenager, living in England. And yes, I have a history of abuse of every kind, so at times, I may write about that, if only to make sense of it.

Right now in my life, I am actually taking a gap year. And during this gap year, instead of the normal and very understandable need to travel the world, I have decided to stay at home and really work on myself. How have I done that? Well, for starters, I have decided to start therapy and actually work through things that are troubling me. Which has been somewhat successful. However, as of last week, I have actually completed my allotted amount of 12 sessions that the NHS provided free of charge with my very lovely therapist who (for privacy sake) I shall name FeeFee.

But, all is good, I am actually being referred for long-term therapy at my local hospital. And if everything goes to plan, the wait for that should only last less than 3 months and they accept me into their care. Yay! In the meantime, I am on a round of anti-depressants, the infamous Sertraline or better known in the world of crazy as Zoloft. Which I am loving right now, so all is good on that.

Finally, I should explain that because of my crippling depression of last year and my ongoing anxiety, I was unable to reach my full potential last year. Hence, I only achieve relatively low grades (CCC) in my A-levels last year when in reality to get into university, I needed to achieve ABB. So, I have entered myself to actually retake my A-level exams at the end of the year. But again, because of my depression and anxiety for last few months, I have been doing nothing to prepare for that.

But now, I am determined to actually beat this anxiety and depression and actually achieve what I set out to achieve. So, I am beginning to study again (hurrah) and will continue to up until the beginning of my exams in May and June (which is frightingly close).

And that is it.

That is my life at the moment in a few paragraphs.

So, I hope you enjoy my blog and discover things about me (and hopefully about yourself too) that you would like to discuss. If so, feel free to message me. If not, feel free to message me regardless.

Right now, I feel like I am becoming an open book, so do talk to me, I don’t mind talking. At all. Or at least for the moment.

Alrighty then!

Nakedstreetkid out 😉

Advertisements
Uncategorized

Returning Sanity

I haven’t posted anything on my blog in a while because my style of writing has actually gone way out of whack. I’m trying to fix it up by reading more, but I always feel guilty for reading because I need to revise and my life apparently now revolves around my need to revise. I hate it, but that’s the way it is.

I was actually thinking a little while ago that I should really start balancing my life far more better than I am doing now. The problem is, is that I still haven’t quite found my footing in balancing revision and free time. Because what I am doing now with revision, I might as well not be revising because I am failing everything. However, like my friend Luke has already done, I might just force myself to accept the failure that is waiting for me by the end of this week. In fact, my older brother was talking to me earlier, and told me that unless I fully accept that I have failed, that I have hit rock bottom, there is no way I will ever reach the top. He told me, that the first step is admitting that I failed, the second is accepting that the way I am doing things is causing me to fail and repeating the same method will only lead to even more failure. Repeating an old trick the same way and expecting different results is the definition of insanity. I need to get out of monotonous cycle of getting up, going to school, going home and sleep. I really need to learn how to shake things up, otherwise I am going to fail every single exam. And I don’t want that, so I need to learn to accept that I’m failing, well and truly accept it instead of ignoring it for what it is.

Because if I’m going to fail, what do I have to lose by changing up my method of learning? Nothing, absolutely nothing. If I still channel all my hope into a failed method, I’m just going to drive myself straight into insanity, and that isn’t good.

Like my history teacher quoted:

“Learn to accept the things you can’t change, and change the things you can.”

I have the next few days to prove that I can do it.

Here. We. Go.

Nakedstreetkid out ;D

moments

My first house party

The dull silence which usually occupied the trains in the morning was replaced with a rich thrill that ran through the mouths of many. The train became a social hub more than anything. The buzz of the train didn’t cease until it stopped at Kings Cross Station. Until then, there was laughter, girls in tight mini skirts with open chested blouses which flattered their apple, pear or pinched in figures. The guys were already having a party, each carrying their own can of laggar. I checked the time on my phone. My phone, a blackberry which carried the marks of a soldier from being thrown at the wall too many times at the attempt for it to forcefully defect from my possessions, was still alive. It had survived even to this day. What a shame. I really wanted an iPhone.

Anyway, it was only half an hour past seven. Everyone on the train except me and a parent accompanied child was a little bit more than tipsy. Their shouts and wails contained a common theme of complete abandon. Oh, well, they seemed happy enough. Each man clutched enthusiastically to an alcoholic drink while their other hand held desperately onto a pole as to not fall down flat on his face. The women were pulling down skirts, the same as I was doing. The only difference was that they made an attempt to readjust their tossled hair by puffing it up or smoothing it down with the tips of their fingers. That was something I didn’t do, couldn’t do because I hadn’t done anything to my hair beforehand but tie it up in a bun. But that was fine, I had other pressing issues to think about.

My brain kept spinning around the concept of going to a party. I had never been to one of this magnitude and was seriously worried because I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t sure how to dance, what drink to chose and what foods to eat. I was sure I wouldn’t let vodka touch my lips, nor rum. I had already encountered such things and it did not bode well for me. I was a horribly depressed drunk, with suicidal tendencies. I was not willing to return there. So, maybe, no alcohol. Wait, definitely no alcohol. At least, that was decided. How about food? Dancing? I guess, those are the things where I’m going to have to wait and see.

Anyway, the women on the train were getting a bit weird. Every time I glanced their way, I saw how they would subtly pout their lips before speaking to their fellow man. It was quite funny to watch but I didn’t dare laugh or even smile too much. I didn’t want any attention to be drawn to me. But, by the time two stops had gone by, I was pretty sure no such thing would occur. They were all preoccupied with each other. Their glazed eyes hardly dropped my way.

The train juggled them about, slamming each body against each other before purging them out of the doors as an automated voice announced their stop. Group by group the train became silent, and I was blissfully left alone in my seat as less bodies heaped themselves onto me.

It was coming close to my stop, but I refused to look up, worried that the remaining participants would realise that I had no idea to where I was going. But really, those remaining were half asleep, the bags underneath their eyes dragged their heads down before their necks suddenly snapped back up, darting their eyes around the carriage. One of these creatures asked me if they had missed their stop. I shook my head before saying no. They nodded and let their heads fall again.

When I heard my stop be announced, I carefully lifted by radio shaped bag, fiddled nervously with its dials for a little bit before walking towards the opening doors sliding away giving me room to exit. It was time to find the house.

The night air was cold when I stepped out onto the platform. The smell of concentrated urine made its appearance as I sprinted up the steps. I was late. I wasn’t sure if that was okay or not, considering it was a party. But, I was more than half an hour late. I wasn’t even sure if she had got my whatsapp messages to let her know whether I was late. I felt horrible.

Uncategorized

My inability to compromise with Lazy days

You know when you somehow wholeheartedly convince yourself that today will be a lazy day? I’m having one of those days. Despite the fact that I have to start getting ready in less than 4 hours and leave my house in less than 5. It’s a funny fact of life and I cannot fully understand how I have convinced myself to have a lazy day. Even though I despise lazy days.

I finished school on Tuesday and basically did not want to leave. So, what I did was stay for another hour, saying my goodbyes to all the teachers that are leaving the school. There are about – at the very least – seven people that are leaving this year. I also said thank you and goodbye (for the Summer) to all the teachers that have helped me this year that are not actually leaving.

I mean, I really can’t cope with lazy days. I got off of School on Tuesday, and then the next day at 9 in the morning I decide to volunteer for a disability sports day. I have no idea what I was thinking, except that I can’t rest and have a lazy day. I swear, I don’t know what to do with myself on lazy days. I always end up doing something. Anyway, what I did was help teach these people how to play some unknown sports called Boccia. And maybe someone out there has played it but I, for one, had never actually played it. It was funny, and they all loved it.

I just realised something which is weird about the language that I use. I refer to almost everyone as people. I know that sounds crazy, like “I’m sure everyone does that” but you would be surprised to realise how little people actually do that. Like, I call children “people”. I have never recognised them as just children. I recognise them as both a person and a child. Which is mostly because I respect children because they are so damn wise. To be perfectly honest with you, I know that the majority of children lack knowledge, but when it comes wisdom, they can sometimes excel more than that of an adult. Oh, and I think teachers are people too. Which I have found is weirdly unique. Not many people view teachers as people. They don’t realise that teachers have this life outside of teaching. And they have emotions and thoughts. (Or maybe the some who I think that don’t do and instead ignore it).

I mainly realised this after they started making some students drop an AS level subject in January. I was one of those students. And I couldn’t help but think throughout that whole ordeal that they must feel like crap. Because they were impressing upon mere 16/17 year olds that they must drop a subject otherwise they would fail. I just kept thinking, “boy, that must be the hardest thing to do. They must hate the person who made them say all of that to emotionally reckless and frail 16/17 year olds”. That’s what I kept thinking. It took me a while to process the fact that they were asking me to drop a subject.

But I digress.

I think the word “people” puts everyone on neutral ground. It gives the illusion that all of these “people” are mature. When some of them are just kids. Some of them are just teachers. Some of them are teenagers and so on.

We should probably go back to the fact that I hate lazy days. I don’t know what to do with myself. Or maybe everyone defines “lazy days” differently. Like, everyone thinks that a lazy day is lying down on a coach and watching telly. Where as I believe a lazy day should be a day where you go out and explore something new. Or maybe, even an hour on Tumblr counts as a lazy day to me.

Whatever. My point is that I have no idea of how to cope on a lazy day.