Well, I think I've finally come to my conclusion about university.
I hate it here.
I absolutely, utterly, sodding hate it here.
Why is it when I look on Facebook, everyone has photos taken of them depicting happy, lots of friends, laughing, joking... etc. I have 9 photos of me. 9.
Ok, I shouldn't be using a website to judge the state of my life, but it isn't just that. Sure, I have friends, but they're not very good friends. They're the people I hang out with because otherwise, I would be on my own. Conversation revolves around them, and sure it's probably because I ask them about their lives, their weekends, whatever else they get up to. But have they once asked after me? No. Do they care about me? I don't feel cared about.
I don't know what I've done wrong; I've been social, I've done everything I can to join in with things and make the effort. Nobody seems to care. I'm stuck here, away from the people I care about most - family, friends back home.
I can't be myself here - the minute I start behaving "normally" I get odd looks and annoyed glances. I've become as introverted as I was in Highschool.
Also, I hate this stupid year of stuff I don't even care about. I'm paying to redo my A-levels. Whoo, fucking, hoo. Ok, I like Biology, but I wanted to progress. I didn't want to sit there for 50 minutes learning about the sodding lac operon. How the chuff is it relevent to zoology? Search me.
I feel like I'm wasting my time. I'm miserable 80% of my time here. I'm in tears for about 60% of that. Everyone at home seems to be so cold towards me I wonder what the heck I've done wrong. It's like I really don't have anything to live for anymore.
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Monday, November 05, 2007
Cambridge
Last week was reading week here at Manchester University, which means that we have a week free of lectures to (not surprisingly) read. Of course, with time off there was also one extra thing I wanted to do; not having seen Finn for around six weeks was tough, and we both came to the conclusion it was high time to see each other.
Of course, Finn was still in the middle of his term (which was an 'oh noes!' length of 8 weeks, but they work about ten times as hard as we do - imagine having a school week compressed into a day, and having to go in on a Saturday. Nightmare situation.), but that didn't really matter to me. (And I hope it didn't matter to him either).
Anyway, the train journey down was uneventful save for one change. I went from Manchester - Doncaster - Peterborough, then I should have finally gone on to Cambridge. But upon arriving at Peterborough, I found my train had been cancelled and there wasn't one for around another hour, with no guarantee it was going to run. I think some sort of guardian angel was smiling down at me that day since I somehow bumped into a group of sensible twenty-something bordering 30 year olds who lived in Cambridge, and also happened to be going the same way. I learnt that I could get a train to Ely and then to Cambridge, which would have me arriving at Cambridge station earlier than waiting for the next train.
After Finn picked me up from the station, I got the tour around his college (st.Catharine's) and once he'd finished his work I got taken to the bar, where I met Ruud, one of Finn's friends from the Czech Republic. One thing I noticed was how all of Finn's friends seem really warm and friendly - and I began drawing parallels to how I don't really have it the same way back home. At first, I felt some what of an outsider to this strange, courteous place, where people actually cared what I had to say for myself. But I soon settled in and began to feel a bit more relaxed around everyone - although Finn was probably the garnering factor in all that.
And of course, getting to meet his new friends wasn't a patch on actually being able to spend time with him. I can't express just how well I was looked after while I was there; taken out for dinner, someone making sure I was alright being left on my own for odd periods etc... It didn't matter if we were sitting in his room both working, or in one of his many lectures - just being -with- him made everything seem alright again. I must admit up to that point I had been feeling pretty isolated and depressed about living in Manchester, but the week completely relaxed and resettled me, and thanks to Finn I feel a million times better about everything. True, I'm snowed under with work that's been piled on since I came back, and I have a lot of stuff to sort out - but because I've seen him I can cope with it.
In retrospect, the week wasn't long enough; just to have a few more days to get used to the fact I was going to be jolted back to my little reality would have been nice. Our goodbyes were too short because I had to jump on the train as it was leaving, and since then I've felt oddly alone again - like I'm missing an arm almost. It's also odd to not have the comforting presence of your boyfriend sleeping behind you anymore, but I'll survive.
I only have to wait another 5 weeks.
Of course, Finn was still in the middle of his term (which was an 'oh noes!' length of 8 weeks, but they work about ten times as hard as we do - imagine having a school week compressed into a day, and having to go in on a Saturday. Nightmare situation.), but that didn't really matter to me. (And I hope it didn't matter to him either).
Anyway, the train journey down was uneventful save for one change. I went from Manchester - Doncaster - Peterborough, then I should have finally gone on to Cambridge. But upon arriving at Peterborough, I found my train had been cancelled and there wasn't one for around another hour, with no guarantee it was going to run. I think some sort of guardian angel was smiling down at me that day since I somehow bumped into a group of sensible twenty-something bordering 30 year olds who lived in Cambridge, and also happened to be going the same way. I learnt that I could get a train to Ely and then to Cambridge, which would have me arriving at Cambridge station earlier than waiting for the next train.
After Finn picked me up from the station, I got the tour around his college (st.Catharine's) and once he'd finished his work I got taken to the bar, where I met Ruud, one of Finn's friends from the Czech Republic. One thing I noticed was how all of Finn's friends seem really warm and friendly - and I began drawing parallels to how I don't really have it the same way back home. At first, I felt some what of an outsider to this strange, courteous place, where people actually cared what I had to say for myself. But I soon settled in and began to feel a bit more relaxed around everyone - although Finn was probably the garnering factor in all that.
And of course, getting to meet his new friends wasn't a patch on actually being able to spend time with him. I can't express just how well I was looked after while I was there; taken out for dinner, someone making sure I was alright being left on my own for odd periods etc... It didn't matter if we were sitting in his room both working, or in one of his many lectures - just being -with- him made everything seem alright again. I must admit up to that point I had been feeling pretty isolated and depressed about living in Manchester, but the week completely relaxed and resettled me, and thanks to Finn I feel a million times better about everything. True, I'm snowed under with work that's been piled on since I came back, and I have a lot of stuff to sort out - but because I've seen him I can cope with it.
In retrospect, the week wasn't long enough; just to have a few more days to get used to the fact I was going to be jolted back to my little reality would have been nice. Our goodbyes were too short because I had to jump on the train as it was leaving, and since then I've felt oddly alone again - like I'm missing an arm almost. It's also odd to not have the comforting presence of your boyfriend sleeping behind you anymore, but I'll survive.
I only have to wait another 5 weeks.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Shelved
Yeah, it was pointed out to me by my sister yesterday as I sat vainly trying to hold a conversation with someone over msn
"You always get put on the shelf, don't you?"
I thought about it for a moment, and then nodded sadly. Yes, yes I do.
The worst thing about it was that I've only recently realised how often I get put onto one side so that 'more important' people get seen to first. What is it about -me- that means I'm not deserving of first place? I notice that over the years I'm becoming less of the caring person I was, and more of this bitter personality that seems to have no time for anyone; but why should I give my all when nobody gives back?
I notice myself butting in with rude comments when holding a conversation with my own mother. A drunken (on her behalf), rambling conversation, but even so I should have held my tongue like I used to; I find myself getting wound up when she makes her point, rambles round the subject, makes the point again, repeat ad nauseum. I will rephrase the point, in a louder, hurried, annoyed voice. If she doesn't get the hint, I'll tell her 'yes I understand'. I seem to have lost the ability to sit there and let her talk, I just don't seem to care anymore.
Perhaps I've cracked, perhaps I've had enough of being the person who has to put up with everyone else's problems, and who never gets what I give back. I want to be a nice person, but I'm sick of being interrupted, talked over, pushed to one side.
I'm sick of being put on the shelf all the time.
This doesn't mean, of course, that I want to be the centre of attention, all I ask is for my friends and relations to sometimes take into consideration that perhaps -I- want to talk about myself for once; while their anecdote might be funnier/more interesting/wackier/more amazing, shouldn't they show a little consideration beyond the 'hi how are you?' shouldn't they actually take an interest in my life, like I do in theirs?
I'm not the most interesting person in the world, but I do have feelings.
"You always get put on the shelf, don't you?"
I thought about it for a moment, and then nodded sadly. Yes, yes I do.
The worst thing about it was that I've only recently realised how often I get put onto one side so that 'more important' people get seen to first. What is it about -me- that means I'm not deserving of first place? I notice that over the years I'm becoming less of the caring person I was, and more of this bitter personality that seems to have no time for anyone; but why should I give my all when nobody gives back?
I notice myself butting in with rude comments when holding a conversation with my own mother. A drunken (on her behalf), rambling conversation, but even so I should have held my tongue like I used to; I find myself getting wound up when she makes her point, rambles round the subject, makes the point again, repeat ad nauseum. I will rephrase the point, in a louder, hurried, annoyed voice. If she doesn't get the hint, I'll tell her 'yes I understand'. I seem to have lost the ability to sit there and let her talk, I just don't seem to care anymore.
Perhaps I've cracked, perhaps I've had enough of being the person who has to put up with everyone else's problems, and who never gets what I give back. I want to be a nice person, but I'm sick of being interrupted, talked over, pushed to one side.
I'm sick of being put on the shelf all the time.
This doesn't mean, of course, that I want to be the centre of attention, all I ask is for my friends and relations to sometimes take into consideration that perhaps -I- want to talk about myself for once; while their anecdote might be funnier/more interesting/wackier/more amazing, shouldn't they show a little consideration beyond the 'hi how are you?' shouldn't they actually take an interest in my life, like I do in theirs?
I'm not the most interesting person in the world, but I do have feelings.
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