Asking for help...

This last few years, I have reached my lowest and worked my way back up again. I've gone from pretending I don't exist to feeling like and I can accomplish anything, I have been diagnosed with depression, I've been medicated, I've gone through an environmental and emotional overhaul and I've started again.

The most difficult part of it was asking for help. Not because I didn't think I needed it, but because I was scared about telling people, about telling anyone that there was this thing inside of me, this thing that was eating away at any happiness - any emotion that I had in the world. I wasn't scared that they'd feel bad for me, I was scared that people wouldn't believe me. I wasn't afraid of pity, I was afraid of being discredited. Of being something and having something shameful. Of being told that my illness wasn't an illness and that I just needed to try harder.

I'm disappointed that my biggest fear was asking for help. The majority of my friends were the most supportive people I could ever have hoped for. But there were a few people, there are always a few people, who live up to a fear. I had - and still struggle with - a legitimate illness that will always form a part of me, and there were some people who told me that maybe if I stopped talking about it, and tried harder, it would just go away. I'd like to see anyone say that to someone who is physically ill.

The stigmatisation of mental illness is something that has always bothered me. Partly because I have depression, and partly because I know, without a shadow of a doubt that it's wrong. It's wrong to joke about people who are sick. It's wrong to think that mental illness isn't serious and that it's something you can think your way out of. It's wrong to assume that you understand someone else's situation because you've felt a bit sad once.

There are varying degrees of mental illness, just as there are varying degrees of injury, of physical sickness. Telling someone that what they're going through isn't real doesn't make them better. I hope that at some point, people start realising that. I had everything that I needed at the time I was diagnosed. Trying to appreciate it made me feel guilty for not being able to appreciate it. I was incapable of being happy.

Having a battle with yourself every morning as to whether you should bother facing the day, seeing other people, going to work, to school, just getting up, wondering whether it's worth trying anymore is not something that should be made light of. This is the kind of thing that ruins friendships, relationships, jobs, lives. It is real, and it's horrible.

If you need help, don't be afraid to ask for it. I wasted a lot of time being scared, and I found out that I didn't need to be.

-AJ

Talk about it!

I'm not very good at talking about my feelings, so I write about them instead. There is something inherently terrifying to me about the idea of sitting down with someone and just being honest. I know that this is something that many people experience, and the advice that's thrown around a lot (including by me) is to USE YOUR WORDS! But that's just a lot easier to say than it is to do, isn't it? It still paralyses me a little bit to talk about some things, even though in writing, I can say (and indeed, have said) a lot of what I need, and what I want to say.

But there are some things that you can't really just stick a blog post up about.

Being able to tell your friends that you're petrified of losing them, being able to tell people you love them, tell people that you're in love with them, be able to talk to the people you want to talk to about the things you want to tell them - even that's hard. Just starting a conversation. I genuinely really struggle with this sort of thing. There is something that eats away at me when I try and talk about this stuff.

So I've come up with a little project - something I'm going to try to do over the next year or so, to be able to talk to the people I want to talk to, without an instant response, and using writing so that I don't have to internally panic every time I open my mouth and just spew out a load of words that don't mean anything, or worse! Just not say ANYTHING AT ALL! Oh god the awkward...

I'm going to start writing letters - this is something I really want to do, and I feel like putting it on here will actually make me do it. As well as this being an easy form of communication for me, I think it's a great way to add personality into communicating. It takes longer than an iMessage, or an email, it won't arrive instantly, and people won't respond as soon as they see it. I think that's part of the beauty of it - you can send something saying everything you want to say, but without the crippling anxiety of starting at that little tick waiting for the other person's response.

This is something that's likely to always be hard for me. I don't really know how to talk to people about deeply personal things, but somehow writing everything out helps me think everything through and seems so much less scary, so maybe, that's where I need to start?

Always nervous about something...
AJ

"Why is this happening to me?"

A continuation of my previous post.

I was unhappy for a long time. It felt like forever, but obviously wasn't. When my body started acting oddly, so did I, but I never knew that I was acting oddly. "I'm fine." is the lie that I most regularly told myself, and the people around me. I was unhappy. It wasn't quite a sad feeling; it wasn't quite a feeling. It's difficult to describe and remember. I suppose it's all a bit of a blur.

Like everyone does, I occasionally go into a slump. I have an unhappy few days, wake up not wanting to do anything with my life, occasionally just not wanting to leave my room, let alone my house. For me, there's an overwhelming sense of apathy to life, which really upsets me, because I'm not that person. I am the painful optimist, I'm the one who always has something to say, who occasionally will literally dance across the house to get laundry out of the washer. So at this point, I go into what is essentially a self-destructive cycle, but somehow, I manage to pull myself out of it before I get out of hand. Largely because I'm surrounded by amazing and inspiring people.

Last time I wrote, I felt like I had so much more to say, but I wasn't really sure where to start... so I'm gonna just try and start with something from a few days ago that just completely overwhelmed me, which is something that hasn't happened in a long time; I mean, I've been overwhelmed but this felt different.

It sounds like a massive cliché, but I felt like I was falling to pieces.

I hate that feeling, and I hate myself for feeling it. I don't like being out of control and that's exactly how I felt. I felt out of control, I hated myself for feeling it, then felt more out of control, hated myself for hating that I hated it, and it just got worse until I was walking to work in a haze, trying to not curl up on the pavement and just... cry.

And all I could think was "Why is this happening to me?".

People say that you're tested and it's never beyond your abilities to overcome the tests, or something thereabouts. I don't feel like I overcame this one. I sent a message to a friend, and got a phone call that made me calm down. I don't feel like I'm falling apart any more, but I still don't feel like I'm wholly content. Happiness isn't a destination, it's a state; it's just sometimes a state that really eludes me, and one that I occasionally can't even think about because I'm so deeply in the opposite. I get sad. I'm not scared to talk about it, but I'm scared of feeling it. I pretend to be confident and that it's just a part of me, which in fairness, it is... I just which it was a part of me that would become dormant so that I can be happily functional.

There isn't really an answer to that question though. I don't know why it's happening to me, other than it's a wall that I have to break down, and a thing that I have to embrace and overcome, but I just don't know how. I suppose in a way, it'll help me grow. It's things like this that help me identify with some people on a different level... I've met and been inspired by so many amazing people, and I'm awestruck by people who cope better than I do when they seem to be comparably worse than I am in a... slump.

One thing that I really need to impress on people though... when someone feels something like this... if someone is depressed, unhappy for no reason, whatever you want to call it, telling them to pull their socks up and get over it will never, ever help. It is so rarely a case of getting over it. That's something that's utterly bewildering. How do you even get over it? How does that work?

... Nope.

-AJ

"I just don't want to talk about it."

We all have those days where we just want to hide under a duvet and watch crappy movies, not make any interaction with the outside world and just mope. And sometimes, after a good day of solid moping, everything feels alright again, and you can see why the birds are singing and the world is spinning.

But what if you can't? What if you spend weeks not wanting to move? What if you feel so terrible about yourself that you can't bring yourself to be more?

So many people on the internet - myself included - talk about depression, about mental health, about experiences, solutions and reasons. I'm going to try and explain to you how I felt when I went through a kind of depressive funk a while back. I feel like a different person than I did then, and even though there are large periods of day to day life that I just can't even remember, large blanks as it were, I still remember how it felt. It did not feel good. It's the worst I've ever felt, and as far as depression goes, I don't think I even scratched the surface.

I don't like to use the 'd' word when I talk about myself. I was never diagnosed with depression and I hope that I never have to be. What happened to me was a mixture of poor self-esteem and medication that went a bit wrong. I lost a friend, and then I lost what felt like my femininity within the space of a couple of years, and those years, that space of time between those two events were filled with confusion and bewilderment at my body, which was just going into a sort of hormonal train-wreck. I am reluctant to say that I was depressed because, even though I have felt terrible about myself, about the world and about everyone around me, and I have felt alienated from everything and apathetic, and at times numb from everything except anger, I have seen people go through worse.

I've since come more to terms with myself, but there are still occasionally those days where I just want to disappear into a little cave and just cry, but it feels more normal than it used to. Much more normal. But the point of this isn't that I came out of the other side feeling better about myself. That took a long time, a change of medication to fix the hormones that made my head feel rubbish, and a good friend that would listen to me when I learned to talk about it.

The worst thing I felt was worthlessness. Around the time that I was diagnosed with PCOS, I began to feel like I wasn't worth the trouble, and like I shouldn't bother trying, and like I shouldn't talk to anyone because it wasn't worth stressing them out about my silly little feelings. I hid it a little too well though. Nobody noticed that I wasn't quite right for a really long time because I had sort of... distanced myself from everyone. I went about it the wrong way, but I'm not the only one who does. I'm not the only one who feels - or felt - like they're worth less than everyone else. I still have issues with myself... I'm not very confident, but the written word helps me a lot. But I only began to feel better about myself when someone helped me to. You should not deal with these things alone. The people who love you will be there no matter what.

If you're on the other end though, if you're one of the people who's worried about someone, make sure you know the person really well. Be able to see through that mask. That's the hardest part I think... then just being there to listen. Showing them you care and they're not worthless. Sometimes "I just don't want to talk about it." is a start. There isn't always a logical reason to feeling awful, that's a big one to understand. It might not make any sense to you, but try and understand that it might to them.

I'm going to stop this here, before it becomes a full essay. Words mean a lot to me and I want to get them right, especially about something like this. People I love, people I care about, have been affected by depression, and it's become something quite close to me... You can never fully understand someone else's feelings, but you can always listen.

As always, thanks for reading.

- AJ

Old Things... and New Things...

Even though I'm always glad for the arrival of Summer, it's always tinged with a little bit of sadness - less and less every year, but it's always there, and it's always going to be. A few years ago, vaguely around this time of year, I - and a lot of people in my life - lost someone important; probably one of the best friends I've had. I think back and I'm still inspired by my friend, and it still fascinates me how she managed to remain so upbeat, even as we began to see less and less of her over time. It's things like this, people like this that shape who we are and who we want to be. We all want to be the best person that we can be, so what's stopping us?

For me, I know that I'm in my head way too much sometimes, and that I need to just move way back into the present and get on with life, but sometimes, those far off, vaguely possible eventualities terrify me. But the problem is, not getting on with things now means that I might not get onto those far off eventualities, as likely or unlikely as they may be. And there it is, the shunt that takes me back into the reality that I'm in, and stops me daydreaming about lighthouses and illustrating children's books whilst simultaneously designing my own range of furniture... because I can't get there if I don't do this part of my life now.

Forgive me, I think I'm rambling a little bit...

The way we handle things that have happened to us, the things that are in our past... old things, shapes the way we see the future, whether you're a realist, optimist, pessimist, whatever-ist. It's really important to value experiences that you have now, and make the little things important. Remember the things that make you happy... and the things that make you sad, because honestly, you never know what you're going to be facing the next day.

I wish I'd had more time with my friend, that I'd gotten to make a few more of her days brighter, but I can't anymore, and I just have to rely on the idea that maybe, just maybe I managed to help make something brighter, whether it was a day wandering around the small city that I call home, or cracking a stupid joke in an IT class, I just hope that I made a difference. But now, I try and make everyone I meet smile, and it can be harder with some people more than others, but making someone smile, for someone as emotionally... muddled as I am, can just make you feel properly again.

Yeah...

- AJ

I'm angry at myself.

I'm finding myself coming back to this blog more and more, wanting to write things that I can't quite form words for, but I can give it a pretty good try most of the time... If there's one thing that I can actually do, it's words.

So I'm feeling pretty low today, and writing something or other usually helps me, so here we go...

I think I'm angry. Not at anyone else, not at anything in particular, it's just one of those days where everything you do makes you a little bit more frustrated until you build up this sort of completely angry, dissatisfied with life mentality. But it's a strange kind of feeling; not the immediate seeing red and wanting to do something irrational that you'd probably regret later, but more of a jaded sort of irritation with yourself.

And that's the distinction - I feel like I'm angry at myself. Which really shouldn't be a thing.

I'm usually quite a calm and cheerful person, and I try to be as much as possible. I try to help people when they need help, I get my stuff done, but now and then I just get this shite feeling at the back of my head which makes it really hard to do simple tasks like focus on what someone's saying. What makes it more annoying is that it's an inward thing. It's aimed at me. And being angry at yourself is just a really weird feeling. It just feels so odd.

So basically, I've felt a bit thrown off the last couple of days. It's been really confusing me, and it can be quite upsetting. But it's okay. It'll be fine eventually. I've had months of this before, and look, I'm alright now. I can do it again.

-AJ

Honesty

Honesty is a thing that people often struggle with, and reasonably so as well. It's hard to tell people things that you know they won't want to hear, or tell them things only to hear what you don't want to hear. It's often not easy to be honest, I understand that - there are things that I don't tell anyone, but sometimes, in spite of your apprehension, being honest, no matter what the outcome, is really the best thing to do. Because at least then you can be at peace with the truth, even if it takes a long time.

Sometimes, being able to be honest with someone else, helps them to be honest with themselves. Admitting something aloud or on paper makes something much more real and for me, it helps you accept the reality of what's going on. Sometimes, giving something a name makes it so much easier to fight. Because then, at least you know what you're fighting against.

I've been trying to write this for literally months. I must have started it in August, something like that. Almost a full year ago... I know it was before I moved to Glasgow, before I knew that I was moving here, even before I was as calm as I am now, day to day. But I think I'm starting to understand a bit better. I suppose what I want to say is that I'd rather someone was honest with me than lie to save my feelings. So I'd like to do the same with others.

I'd like to think there are people out there who are just the same as me, who do the same sorts of things in my position. I've been told before that the things that I put on here, that I try and share with as many people as possible are things that I should keep to myself. But that's not at all what I want to do. That isn't even remotely conducive to what I'm trying to achieve. Because if you are out there and you're like me... I want you to know that.

I want to put a positive stint on something that's really affected me... something that's affected me quite badly... Up until I could see retrospectively, I didn't realise quite how much. But the only really useful way I can think of is helping people. I can't help people by lying. So I'm being honest, because that's how I think it should be done.

I still get those days where I can't feel anything. It terrifies me. Every time, I don't think it'll go away. But it always does. It gets better. It always gets better. And that's what I'm trying to achieve.

Honesty can make things better... sometimes you just have to push it to do so.

-AJ x

Home

Here we go, attempt number three  of getting a post on here. I'm sat, in my room in Glasgow, in a place that's rarely quiet (now is one of those rare occasions) wondering why my room is always the coldest room in the flat, and why goodness me why, why am I so tired?

And yet, here I am, sat, at 02:01, writing things on a blog that I seem to neglect, when I have damp hair and a lecture later in the morning. I really should be going to sleep, but who on earth makes wise decisions at university? Apparently, sometimes, not me. Right now, although admittedly slightly stressed, I'm ultimately happy in my new surroundings, even if it means I am in a big, scary and often dangerous city. I like it here. It's arty and a bit mad. I suppose like me, but bigger.

__A few weeks later__

And so here we are again. This time, I'm a little further south and a little further east, and I'm back home for Christmas. Still tired. Still cold. But it's making me realise that, as much as this is home, my freezing, slightly grim room in Glasgow is also home. Home is a strange concept. I've never really thought of it more than a place where you live, but now, living in two very different places, it's hard to figure out which place I would consider home more. Whilst this house is my parents' house, and I've lived here for years, there's a kind of sense of ownership in living in what is, essentially, my own space, rented or not.

Being away from here, away from my family has made me appreciate my freedom and my space a bit more. Even so, it's still worth the four hour, two train journey to get back here to see my parents and my sixth-form friends. So I'm a bit torn. When I'm in Glasgow, at the end of term, I'm always wanting to go "home", here. But at the same time, now that I'm here, I want to go home to Glasgow. I'm blessed, I have two homes to go to, it's a good position to be in, but at the same time, I'm really quite confused as to what home really means to me. Is it the people? Is it the place? I suppose I'll figure that out eventually.

So now I'm sat here, at much less exciting times of the day, wondering how other people feel about living in two places, wondering if they're quite as confused as I am...

-AJ

Armpits4August - Raising awareness for PCOS

So a few days ago, a friend pointed out this website to me. As you all know - and if you don't, come on, it's in my banner for goodness sake - I have PCOS. I try and raise awareness for it in whatever way I can bring myself to do; these guys... or girls, rather, are doing just that. They're a completely awesome cause and they're supporting a great PCOS charity. So this post is encouraging you to go take a look at them. And maybe donate? Take part?

I'm not taking part in Armpits4August, admittedly, because I'm fairly self-conscious and a little vain. So instead of taking part, I'm spreading the word, hopefully you guys will. Basically, they're growing out their armpit hair for August - kind of like Movember, I guess. You don't just have to be a woman to take part. Twitter has been coming alive with men taking part by shaving their armpits and recording their experiences.

So everyone doing it is getting sponsored and that money goes to a charity called Verity. I have a link in my side-bar if you're interested. They're an awesome charity, working to find out more about PCOS and helping people that have it.

You can contact the A4A girls over on Twitter @Armpits4August or by using hashtag #pitpride and they're really friendly and often reply. I don't want this to be a very long post, so that's all I really have to say. Go check these girls out and give them some support!

-AJ

The Memory Eater Anthology

AAAAAAHHHHH! IT'S FINALLY HERE!

So I'm going to review it in my own little way. I've been excited to get my hands on a copy of The Memory Eater Anthology for MONTHS now, partly because I was really excited to read it, and partly because I actually helped illustrate it. I'm not usually a fan of anthologies, but I say this completely genuinely, this anthology is awesome, and I implore you to go get a copy.

I didn't write any of the book, so I can be un-biased when it comes to the writing. There are what? 27 stories? All of them were completely unique and they just kept getting better. The anthology is based on the idea of a piece of equipment called the memory eater, which can find and destroy any specific memory. An imaginative idea, which honestly, I first thought would be a bit... meh.

But once you actually read the book, the narrative voices are all so individual but they're all the same in one thing. They are utterly captivating. You can see the amount of work that's gone into writing each story and why they were chosen to be in the anthology. The originality of the plots was, as well, completely absorbing and I just loved every page.

As well as this, the illustrations were actually pretty amazing. As an artist, I could see how imaginative a lot of them were, and I could stare at them for hours. There isn't really much for me to say other than, seriously go get a copy - it's available from Amazon so it's really easy to get hold of.

GO. BUY. READ.

(I feel like I should point out that, as a contributor, I don't get any money from the project, so I'm not giving it a positive review for that. I did this purely on a voluntary basis, as, I am aware, did the other illustrators.)

-AJ

You're interesting!

I think I'm quite a people person. I like people. I think people are interesting. You're a person. You're interesting, yay! There's always something, however subconscious it may be that relates to a human action, some emotional response, something on some weird level that tells them they should, or shouldn't do something because of the reaction of something else. People listen to that little voice way too much, or really not enough and it holds them back or pushes them towards something essentially detrimental. There are people who care too much, too little, balanced people, eccentric people. People are interesting, right?

One thing that I find really interesting, that I've noticed especially with my experiences and with the people around me is that people often want to tell you things, but they don't. You know they need someone to know, but something's holding them back. It's hard to explain, but, for example, I have a friend who was going through some crap and wanted to tell me, but he didn't until a while later because he didn't "want to shit on my day". Of course, I would never have minded, but it's things like this that make me wonder. I think that sometimes people won't tell because everything seems much more real when you say it aloud. It's hard to face things sometimes, no matter how big.

I have a theory that sometimes people use what you've been through to not tell you something so that they don't have to face what they're going through so completely, does that make sense? I mean, generally, some people are more open than others, and that's fine, that's good, but sometimes you can just tell that something is up. I don't know about you, but I don't like seeing people looking unhappy.

People deal with things in different ways, and I think that diversity, that kind of... uniqueness as it were, is really quite fascinating. Some people avoid facing things, and some people never shut up, and there are those people that suffer in silence. I think that's probably why I'm such an extrovert. The way people behave is really really cool, each person is different to the next and the more people you speak to the more you notice it.

I try and help people as much as I possibly can, but you can't help them unless they want you to. Sometimes it's hard to remember that, but it's just a given thing. You can scream, shout, plead all you like, but unless they're ready to face a problem, they won't. I know that pretty first hand. I'm not sure if I'm actually saying what I'm trying to say, so here is probably a good place to stop... yeah...

-AJ

A strange relationship with sleep...

I have a strange relationship with sleep, which you can probably tell from the rather revealing title of this post. People often assume that when I say that, I mean I'm vaguely nocturnal, that I don't sleep until rather late in the night, which, since I'm writing this at past midnight, is true in its own way. But that's not really what I mean. People that don't have such a weird relationship with sleep, sleep the right amount - they go to bed late, then they'll get up late, but I... well... don't.

My sleep patterns can be erratic. I'm sat here, in the dark,typing away at an invisible audience, when a lot of people are asleep, like they ought to be, because sleep is incredibly important. If you don't get enough sleep, you'll probably slowly go insane and... well die. So yes. Sleep is important.

I think I have something of an over-active, morning happy body-clock. My internal alarm is crazy. I can't sleep past 10:00am - even if I've been up until stupid hours. I don't usually sleep past nine if I can help it. If I have a nap, I can't sleep until much later than usual. I'm not really sure when this started. I mean, I've always been something of a reluctant morning person, simply because my body gives me no other choice, but even when I try, I just can't sleep at normal hours.

Usually, I get 6 hours of sleep. You should have at least 8. I'm not an insomniac, it's not that severe, I just have a bit too much energy - possibly delirious energy - to be able to lie still and just sleep. Even when I do sleep, I don't sleep very well, I'm constantly moving and waking up. Even the littlest sounds. It's very annoying really.

I suppose when it comes to it, not sleeping, or, rather, sleeping a little less than other people can come in handy in terms of time. I've got this time to do a bit of blogging, or a bit of writing, or a bit of catching up with some friends who, like me don't sleep until fairly late. But still, I imagine it's nice to be able to sleep properly. I don't often feel well-rested, but I do often feel energetic. It's a strange, and slightly surreal combination.

But again, I suppose it must have come from somewhere, and presumably, it's something that which I could work through, I just need to figure it out. There are some things that are harder than others though, and I think the way we act, even if it's to do with tiredness or sleep, can tell a lot about us. I like to think of myself as a happy person, a cheery, sociable person and I am pretty sure that that's the case, but it gets hard sometimes. Sleep is really interesting. The way the human works, the way we act with no sleep is interesting. People are interesting.

I suppose what I'm trying, in a rather long-winded way to get at, is that things about us are revealing in ways that we don't really comprehend. It's the little things that speak the loudest, and I think that's pretty cool...

-AJ

It's not calming down...

I feel like I need to write again - I haven't written anything here in a while, and I should probably explain the sudden dropping of the pseudonym. I remember saying in my last post that I hoped that everything would calm down after a little while, but it's getting busier and busier, I cannot wait for the summer!

So first thing's first. I have abandoned my pseudonym, in case you haven't guessed already. I started this blog to be able to open up about myself more than I used to. I was once accused of being angry and closed, and I'm starting to hope that that's something that people will never think about me. I have poured my heart and soul into some of these posts, some of them I don't even remember writing and I'm sure there's more to come.

I think I've definitely become a more open person by writing down the things that have affected me in some way, writing about how I'm feeling, writing about my diagnosis, about how I feel about myself of all things. This page isn't something I'll actively share with a lot of people that I know personally. Where I'd happily share it on my Twitter page, I never would on my Facebook page. I know a couple of my friends do read a post every now and again, but I don't mind. It's weird... I still feel more comfortable talking to an audience of strangers. The point is, I aim this blog at strangers, but if my friends stumble upon it, they'll know that it's me, and that doesn't bother me as much any more. Even though I wouldn't actively share it with them.

Other than this step forwards, I'm leaving school in a week and this is SCARY. I'm ready to leave, I'm just not ready for the exams that I'm leaving to do. Everything is hectic right now with work and revision. It's all just maddeningly tiring, but I'll power through with coffee in hand and my sleep-induced delirium keeping me going.

I suppose that's it really. Nice quick update on my life. Interesting, eh?

AJx

Emotional, hormonal, neurotic messiness.

It's been a busy month. It's been a busy day, everything's generally just a bit crazy and I'm just hoping it's all going to calm down soon enough. Well that's evidently just wishful thinking. I think in the last year, I've had a week that's been relatively calm, but that's just how it goes. So where do I start? It's going to be interesting getting this all down. Erm... well... let's start with Scotland. I've been dying to write about Scotland.

Well a few weeks ago, I was contacted by the Glasgow School of Art with regards to my application, and they wanted to interview me to potentially study there, and, as is obvious, I was thrilled. So, up to Scotland I go, and within three minutes of crossing over into Scotland, I'm on my phone, texting a friend about how I've already fallen in love with it again. I'd forgotten how beautiful some parts of Scotland are. I should visit my sister more often.

My interview at the art school was really fun, and it went really well, I fell in love with the university, and the department and the studios. It just all just seemed like the perfect place to study design. So I got on the train home wondering if this had all been worth it. I'd had an unsuccessful application notification from a different university the night before my interview, so I'd been a wreck on my way over to Glasgow. But four days later, I get another email telling me that they wanted to give me an offer to study at the GSA. Needless to say that GSA has always been and now is officially my first choice.

So that's where this starts. I want to move to Scotland for university. There's a part of my head that asks whether I'm good enough. Am I going to meet the conditions? I've come to realise how much more faith my friends have in me than I do in myself. This is where the emotional wreck comes in.

It's hit me that all of my friends and I will be leaving each other's company, and it's hard to think that I wont see them every day, that I won't get to wonder what on earth they're on about when they're close, because, well they won't be close. It's an odd thing to think about, but I was feeling nostalgic, and, even though I'm ready to leave my school, I'm not sure I'm ready to leave my friends. But we'll try.

We try because we have to. Change is good, and we have to learn to deal with it. Change is how we grow, whether it's finding out how much you want to go to a certain school, or a diagnosis, it happens and there's nothing we can do, or should do to stop it. Change is change, and yet it's the one thing that doesn't change.

AJ

Confidence

Confidence is an issue that I've struggled through for a very long time. Throughout the years my lack of self confidence has varied and moved around into several different areas. My self esteem has plummeted pretty low at points, but once you get past that, everything's a little better.

I think confidence is something that a lot of people struggle with, which is a bit of a shame really. It's one of those things that can really affect people; really hold them back. I had a close friend that used to hurt themselves quite regularly because they...well they thought they were worthless I suppose. I have never felt completely worthless, and I hope I never do, but sometimes those dark thoughts do cross my mind.

Confidence is a strange thing. I feel more confident blogging to a group of strangers about my life than I do telling my friends to their faces. That's weird, isn't it? I'd rather tell a stranger through a screen. I think that's odd anyway. It's odd because...well...my blog is like my diary. That's not the sort of thing people let people read, but well...here we are.

Writing at night is easier than writing in the day. Under the cover of darkness. Kind of a bit secretive really. Maybe that's saying something about my confidence. I don't know. More people have insecurities than people think, and more people have more insecurities than they know. Maybe we should all help each other with our insecurities. Maybe that's a bit sloshy and cliche, but maybe it's true.

Ironically, it seems like people aren't confident enough to help other people. So maybe we should all work on improving our own issues. The thing about humans though, is that we're not solitary creatures. We work in groups, we're social...well most of us are - the point is, hearing something nice once in a while does wonders to your self-esteem, so dropping compliments here and there would work wonders, no?

For me it was Diagnosis = Confidence drop, and now I'm re-building again. Just kept thinking 'damaged goods' or 'faulty' or something, but at least I know I'm not alone. We can do everything we want to, we just have to be confident enough to try.

AJ

Onwards with optimism!

Two and a half months since my diagnosis and I feel like I'm starting to become more and more like my old self every day. Everything looks a little brighter, and in spite of the harsh winter weather, I rarely feel cold and lifeless anymore. This blog is kind of like a form of therapy for me. I suppose most writing is. This is where I'm completely unedited though, where I have total free reign to make mistakes, where I can make typos and that's how people know I'm a real person.

I genuinely feel blessed at this moment in my life. I have the most amazing people surrounding me, the nicest, kindest people that I could ever ask for. I've said in the past that they make the world a little less dark, but really, they make the world a little brighter. I maintain that the world can be a dark place, a hard place to be, but there are places you can find, people that you can find, things that you can do to keep it a little brighter than you could have thought.

The thing with writing is that inspiration rarely hits me until the wee hours, or at least, very late at night. It's a challenge for me to keep this blog going, but I'm still doing it, because I really want to help other people with it, not just myself. My job at The Student Review keeps me sane sometimes. In spite of the fact that it drives me crazy having to come up with things to write about, I love doing it. It's a challenge. Seeing a pattern? For some crazy reason, and god only knows why, I love doing things that are difficult for me, challenging for me. I suppose it makes me feel a little stronger. It's that sense of achievement.

As well as that, I do work alongside some pretty brilliant people on TSR. I don't think I'll ever regret taking that up. I'm bloody grateful to have been able to be a part of it. I wrote an info/article piece about PCOS for The Student Review, and I feel a little better about myself because I've been able to do that. I know that there are people that have read that, and just knowing that people are a little more informed makes me a little happier.

I suppose everything seems to be travelling a little more smoothly now. Things are settling down, and I'm finding time to do things that I didn't want to do when I was on the bad pills. I love helping people, making people smile, making things a little clearer for them, which is why I have my Advice column (if you have any questions feel free to get in touch). I feel more optimistic now because I am happier. I am steadier, and I have pushed through what I needed to push through. Strangely it was before my diagnosis that I was at my worst. You think you've hit rock bottom, but you have much further to sink. My diagnosis acted as something of a liberation for me. Although I'm still not completely at peace with it, I think that some day, maybe soon, I will be.

AJ

PCOS and Me

Okay, so I've let the news sink in a little bit now. I've had PCOS all my life, but I was diagnosed four days ago. Isn't it interesting that when you don't know about something, you tend not to care so much? Interestingly with PCOS, it's not curable, but there are solutions. Diet, excercise, oral contraceptives, IVF and all of that stuff, I'll always have polycystic ovaries, and I'll always suffer from polycystic ovary syndrome...although, I don't really think suffer is the right word. Suffer implies something horrendous, often something painful, but I'm feeling strangely calm about having this condition.

It's been three years that I've been trying to find out if I have PCOS and those three years have been pretty difficult; so now that I know, I feel strangely at peace with it. The last few years have been filled with tears, laughter, numbness, friendship and utter, complete madness. It's been filled with breakdown after breakdown, but people are always there to pick up my pieces. So thanks for that guys, if I ever have to, I'll do the same for you.

The hardest thing I had to deal with was wondering if I had hyped the whole thing up. What if it got to the results and it turned out I was being a hypochondriac? There was one person who - unknowingly - made me feel like that. It did make me think, well I'm obviously not worth the bother, maybe I should just quit while I'm ahead. But I didn't. And I do have PCOS. I wasn't hyping it up.

Okay so now I know exactly what my problem is, and I know how to deal with it. The new doctor's surgery I've been visiting has really helped me on my way to finding out. They've done everything they can to support me, and that's helped so much, it's unbelievable. I'm glad that I found out sooner rather than later, and that everything is going to be okay; I'll make everything okay. I feel a lot more of a person, if that makes sense, a lot more substantial than I used to feel. I've begun to find it easier to talk to people about my situation, to tell people what's going on and in turn help them.

Having PCOS can make you feel really inadequate, like 'nobody's going to want me' and 'I am not worth the hassle' but that's not true at all. It's normal to feel like this, normal to have a massive blow to your self esteem after diagnosis, but it will get better. It can always get better.

I'd like to hear from anyone who has PCOS if any of you read my blog. We can all deal with it together!

AJ

Post-Ultrasound!

Hi!

So yesterday I had my ultrasound - just to clarify, I won't get the results for a good couple of weeks yet! The ultrasound itself went very smoothly and quickly, I was trying to make it go quicker by tuning out because I really, REALLY had to pee. She got the photos that she needed and let me go. It's strange, because she pressed down really hard on my tummy with the probe-y thing, and it didn't hurt too much during the examination itself, but afterwards I was quite sore, and my tummy feels a little bruised, but what can you do? At least we know I'll know soon. I hope.

So I'm pretty happy I've got that done with. I've been feeling a little under the weather recently, but I think that has something to do with the cold. Today, I ventured out into the city and went to the cinema with a few friends. We went to see The Three Musketeers. It was a great movie, very entertaining and filled with action. I must say that the actors were brilliant with their characters and well...played the parts brilliantly, but this isn't a film review, I'm not very good at those. Go out and see it, It's great.

I suppose this is a bit of a filler post, so that you guys know what's going on with me right now. I'll pop in a few random things. Like this one: anthologies2011.blogspot.com home of the Memory Eater. CP will soon be posting a page one where to purchase the anthology, so please check it out and do so! A lot of writers and artists (myself included!) have worked very hard on this anthology and we want to see it take flight!

Also, everyone say hi to my wonderful friend Kitty Curtis (you can find her on The Call To Adventure, I write things over there sometimes too!) because she's now at Cambridge university and doing well! She even sent me a post-card Ooooooooooo pooostcard!

That's about all the news I have to share with you right now. Everything seems to be okay from this front, but it could always be the calm before the storm. Aaaaah happy thoughts.

Love
JCxxx

Pre-Ultrasound Nerves

Okay, so you might know that I'm scheduled for an ultrasound on Wednesday. You might also know that this is part of an investigation to see whether I have Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS). You might even know that this has been an ongoing thing for oh...the last three years. Yeah. Some doctors just don't want to give you a straight answer. But however much I talk about straight answers, not being able to get them etc. it doesn't take away from the fact that I've gotten used to them. How weird is that? I'm used to being given shitty answers, like 'we don't normally investigate people who aren't in a stable relationship' what?! NO.

*Ahem* Sorry. Anyway, I've gotten to this point, the pre-ultrasound nerves. There are things going through my head like 'what if I have PCOS?' and 'what if they can't get a clear picture' and 'what if they do get a clear picture?'. But I think the not knowing is worse than the knowing. I just want a little reassurance that whatever happens, everything's going to be okay. And it's not like I don't have an excellent support system, but I'm seventeen years old. I never expected to care about being able to have kids. I never expected to have to deal with any of this.

To be frank, the worst things that I've had to deal with are, in order, horrible medication; the stuff I was on before made me depressed and nauseous. The nausea I noticed, but the most frightening thing was that I didn't realise that I'd gotten to such a depressed state. I nearly quit school, I nearly sabotaged all of my friendships, I nearly ruined what life I have. The other thing that's really bothered me is 'Oh, it's probably not PCOS'. It's when people say this that you know they're not sure what to say. But at the same time, it feels like they're blowing you off, like it's not a real problem, but oh wait, it IS! I hate that, like more than most things. I'm not telling people to get sympathy most of the time, and when I do want sympathy, it's not because I'm an attention seeker, it's because...well it's a big problem that I can't deal with alone.

I can't help but feel very alone sometimes, and I'm writing this in the hope that someone out there has gone through something similar and might offer a few words of encouragement, but it's a long shot that they'll happen to stumble across my garbled words. And if there's anyone out there that I can help, I'd like to. Potentially having PCOS doesn't scare me anymore, there are women who have it all over the place who have it, women that will be diagnosed with it. As alone as I feel I know that there are people with the same issues.

I'm terrified of hospitals - there's another thing about me. They're horrible. I respect anyone who can work in a hospital on a daily basis. The thing is, I have to see my gyno/radiologist in the hospital. Aaaaaaaahh! Anyone wanna field this one? HELP!

I'll let you know how the ultrasound goes, and when I get the results.

AJ

Sinners Never Sleep - You Me At Six at the O2 Leeds

On Wednesday evening, I was lucky enough to be able to go, with a friend to see You Me At Six on their current tour in Leeds, in promotion of their brilliant new album, Sinners Never Sleep. I think it's safe to say that I have always liked the band, but they hadn't stood out for me until they released this album, and I genuinely think this is their best album yet. With the opening song of 'Loverboy' with its sometimes annoyingly catchy tune (it's been stuck in my head for days...) the rest of the album is sure to impress. I think my favorite song on the list is probably Bite My Tongue feat. Oli Sykes. I'm not going to lie, there's a bit of screaming at the end, and I'm not the biggest fan of screaming, but I don't know what it is about this song that makes me really not care about the ending. Anyway, I'll end my inadvertent advertising of this album by saying if you do buy it, it's a good investment. I really enjoyed it.


I was even fortunate enough to get into a small meet and greet session before the concert. I think the thing that struck me was how down to earth the band are, they were just sat, looking slightly sheepish grinning at everyone and joking between themselves, just an ordinary bunch of guys. This was the second thing that boosted my liking of them. They didn't seem to have that overly cocky attitude that you see rockstars develop as they get famous, although, I feel I should mention, they dropped more than a few f-bombs during the show, I honestly don't think I've heard the f-word used more within the space of ten minutes. Well done Mr. Franceschi, well done.


When it got to the actual show, the atmosphere was crazy. Everyone was buzzing, and even though we didn't want to seem rude, I think we all really just wanted the main band to come on, but when they did, the crowds, rather predictably erupted into cheers and screams. The energy overtook the room when they burst into their first song, The Consequence. The amount they jumped around on stage was insane. I can't describe it in any other way than it was like they were taking the energy from the room and throwing it right back down there. This was the third thing that made me like You Me At Six even more.


The majority of the songs that were played were, of course, from the new album, and I think it's amazing how people learn the words to songs so quickly. After the main man, Josh Franceschi, claimed that 'you got some beautiful singing voices Leeds' the crowd through all their energy into singing along, so much so that if Franceschi hadn't been there, it probably wouldn't have made much difference in terms of adding vocals to the songs. But having said that, when you could hear the insane vocals that were being produced, combined with the drumbeats and the guitars, You Me At Six really got your heart going.


The night was brilliant, and this band are definitely my new addiction. Since seeing them, I haven't been able to stop listening to them whenever I can. Just the feel of the room is enough to make me want to go out and see them again, so if you get the chance, you definitely should go. Y'know...if rock music is your thing of course. But an amazing night, and definitely one to remember.