Self destruct in 5 seconds

We’re our own worst enemies.

It’s normal to feel emotions like betrayal. There’s someone lately who I feel has betrayed me, who has let me down and treated me badly and I feel like I need justification and an explanation of his actions for my own peace of mind. But you know what I realised? He isn’t thinking about me, he’s not feeling guilty about what he’s done, hell, he probably doesn’t even realised he’s upset me. I’m making myself upset by thinking about it so much, by longing for answers that I’ll never get.

We’re all so self destructive, caring too much about things and people who aren’t doing the same. Wasting energy is all it is. I’m going to try and forget people who have forgotten me when they were too busy being reckless.

People always have the tools to destroy others and often they will but if we’re a little less self-pitying and self-loathing we can maybe destroy the self destructive part of ourselves.

Tes.

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I’m an actress

People tell you to think with your heart.

I think our hearts are self destructive, they’re risk takers, illogical and quite frankly pretty stupid.

So I try and think with my brain. That’s what it’s there for isn’t it?

Yesterday I had one of those awful moments where you run into someone from your past, someone that you still hoped would be a part of your present. What did I want to do? well I wanted to be illogical and get upset that he was there in the same club as me and get mad about what had happened and question what I still don’t understand. I didn’t want to go up to him and be civil and charming and act as though he was my friend.

but I did.

I walked up to him and tapped his shoulder nervously but feigning confidence, I said hello, smiled and hugged him and entered polite chit chat. He struggled to understand what I was saying because of the loud club music which was a little awkward but the fact is- I spoke to him. I was charming, confident and acted as though it was no big deal talking to him. I spoke to him as I was leaving to, just to say goodbye.

I probably will never see him or speak to him again. So I’m glad I listened to my brain, I didn’t want to be the girl shouting at someone who was just on a night out with his friends, someone I haven’t seen in two months and really hasn’t done anything terrible to me. Following my heart would have blown this out of proportion, thank god I was sober! Now I’m just a nice girl, I could have been a nightmare. I have been a nightmare to other people before purely for letting my heart or my feelings take control.

I’m still trying to figure out how to be an adult but lesson learnt yesterday? sometimes you just have to pretend everything’s okay and that you aren’t nervous or angry or whatever… Sometimes it’s healthier to be an actress.

Tes.

Intoxication

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It seems as though nowadays it’s impossible to be tee-total and social. Every event/ occasion/ meeting involves alcohol! I struggle to think of the last time that I went out without there being someone consuming alcohol.

It’s all fine though right? Everyone’s legal, everyone’s happy.

But that’s just it. When it comes to alcohol someone will end up being unhappy. It’s not even the case of people being depressed drunks, there are: angry drunks, people who are sick when they drunk, people who get too brave under the influence and do things they regret and worse of all- there’s always that poor sober person witnessing the mess and wishing they hadn’t left their home.

I’m not going to lecture you about how harmful alcohol can be for your physical health- that everyone knows and still chooses to take a gamble on. The emotional side effects of alcohol are what I’m more interested in. People seem to think of alcohol as a solution because society tells us that’s acceptable- That instead of growing up and dealing with our problems, teenagers like me should be doing shots to try and forget whatever stupid petty thing we’re sulking over. Truth is alcohol only makes things worse, under influence we only get more angry, more upset and we have even less control over the situation because we have less control over our selves.

This weekend I was forced to look after my friend and her boyfriend after they both overdid it on the alcohol front. They were having a tricky time in their relationship and both seemed to be drinking because of that. The result? Me and my other friend looking after these two people who were so embarrassingly drunk (falling over, throwing up, screaming and crying) that I wished the ground would swallow me up. 4 people’s nights ruined and the situation worsened.

I have nothing against social drinking but alcohol is not the antidote to my generation’s usually selfish and silly problems. I don’t think it’s about whether you’re old enough to drink, it’s more important that you don’t abuse the substance when quite frankly, most people cannot handle it.

Tes.

Being a Fresher

“It will be the best 2 weeks of your life” they said, “It’s the most amazing thing you’ll ever experience” they said…and were they right? NO!

So in the UK people in their first year of University are referred to as ‘freshers’ and in our first week of university the university’s student union plans a whole load of themed nights, club visits etc.in order for us to meet the people we’re going to be studying for the next few years.

I had high hopes for freshers, hopes of me going out every night and having a crazy time with all the fun new people I’d met and not at any point when imagining what my freshers would be like did I see myself: throwing up in my new room, getting the flu, literally drowning in work or having to wait an hour in the rain for a bus to take me back to my accommodation but guess what? all of these things happened.

Freshers is an actual nightmare, most nights had terrible music and the club-nights involved A LOT of waiting in the rain for buses. Also my university sneakily planned talks and lectures at 8 or 9am meaning I spent the whole fortnight sleep deprived…then ill (fresher’s flu is not a myth people! I’m writing this from bed with a box of tissues on my lap).

Then there’s the big ‘A’- alcohol. Give a bunch of young adults alcohol and what will they do? make fools of themselves and then throw up. I’m usually very good at holding my drink and have never thrown up because of alcohol… well never until freshers-the first night of freshers to be precise (there’s nothing like throwing up in your room and waking up on the floor with your plastic handcuffs still attached to your wrist to help you make a good first impression to your new house-mates).

After all these obviously pleasant experiences in the past fortnight I asked myself “why did everyone tell me it was going to be so amazing? Am I the only one who thinks fresher’s is more messy than fun?” then it hit me, of course not. Fresher’s week is not amazing (I cant speak for everyone but almost every fresher I know has said the same thing) the reason people have such fond memories of it is not because of how great the parties and clubs and music were but because in 3 years time when they graduate we wont remember the puke, the flu or the way-too early morning starts…they’ll be left with the memories and stories and hell! During the past 2 weeks I’ve found myself quite a collection of stories.

So all in all freshers was a bit of a disaster, nothing at all like I expected and university is still pretty new, big and scary but I’m loving it. who knew getting a degree would prove so messy?

Tes.

Chamomile tea and procrastination

Those little foam balls they hand out for stress relief do not solve any kind of problem. You can squeeze a stress reliever all you want but I don’t really comprehend what problem is so easy that it can be sorted with the simple action of squeezing a piece of foam.

I’ve been having a super stressful time lately and have consequently met a new side to me that, I have to say, isn’t very delightful. Deadlines and everyone else being equally stressed causes my natural charm and general loveliness to evaporate in a matter of seconds and worse of all, I’m not one to repress my feelings.  I, unfortunately, am the kind of girl to scream at the person next to me for accidently bumping into me or start crying uncontrollably because someone’s Facebook status tells me my friend has ‘finally’ finished the coursework I was proud to have completed the first paragraph for. Needless to say that my hulk-like behaviour needs to be tamed and although my first instinct is to drop out of school and lose hopes of ever getting a degree or do anything with my life, I highly doubt my parents will support me in that ideal.

A lot of my friends do odd things when they’re stressed or nervous. My best friend pulls out her eyebrow hair (which is truthfully a lot more disturbing for me than it is for her), another of my friends just shuts everyone out and lives in their own bubble choosing to ignore the world around them, my mum uses relaxation and meditation and my fellow students opt for procrastination in the hope that their deadlines will forget about them and run away. My point is, that stress is definitely not recreational and causes odd or anti social behaviour which leads to fall-outs, tears and tantrums, not to mention the occasional unwelcome grey hair.

I’m sipping camomile tea in the hope that, if nothing else, some sort of placebo affect is created and I feel a lot calmer and less likely to go into a fit of rage. Sorry for anyone who crosses paths with the stressed-out-me, feel free to shout back or hit me if I become annoying (although I fear I’ve already crossed that line).

Tes.

The danger of a haircut…

A lot of younger children have this supposedly irrational fear of going to the hairdressers. For the first 10 years of my brother’s life he refused to get his hair cut at a hairdresser’s salon and my mum’s friend would have to cut it at home, using the TV as a distraction. Despite that obviously being ridiculous I think that girls have every reason to be nervous or even scared of a getting a haircut. Fear of pigeons, daddy long legs or walking under ladders- they may be irrational because truthfully not much damage can be caused from any of those things but that is a lot more than can be said than a trip to the hairdressers…

The problem with going to a hairdresser is that more often than not they do exactly the opposite of what you want. This little rant is a consequence of my latest haircut disaster and sadly it’s not the first time I’ve left the hairdressers feeling a little disappointed. I spent about 60% of my childhood with hair that barely reached my chin and just when I thought id outgrown this, I got a disaster haircut at age 13 leaving me with a rather drag-queenesque curly afro that I spent the remainder of my secondary school life growing out and being extremely careful to get no more than a centimetre cut off on my occasional visits to the hairdresser (and I mean an actual centimetre not a hairdressing centimetre which always proves to be around 3 inches long). Being anaemic my hair takes an extraordinarily long time to grow and so I was extremely proud of finally having long hair after struggling for years and dealing with boy-hair. Unfortunately my Rapunzel days were short lived as I decided to go into the hairdressers for a ‘trim’.

An hour later….I arrived home with something resembling a scraggly poodle sitting uncomfortably on my head.

Hairdressers obviously know what they’re doing, what’s best for hair to be healthy and have volume but I don’t want that! I don’t mind having long unhealthy or dry hair because just having long hair is such an achievement for me but I do mind looking like my younger brother’s twin.

I spent about 45 minutes this morning in front of the mirror figuring out the most attractive way to style my new unfortunate haircut and sadly most attempts left me looking like pop star Mika. Looks like there’s no way out of this but to put on a brave face and pretend it looks exactly how I intended it to. Of course short hair suits some people (Mia Farrow, Emma Watson, Katie Holmes, and Victoria Beckham) but I am nowhere near glamorous enough to pull it off, I lack the overall beauty and confidence and what I look like now resembles a chubby boy scout rather than a celebrity goddess.

I urge you all to think long and hard before braving a trip to the hairdressers and to be crystal clear with your wishes, I have learnt time and time again that “just take a little off the end” leaves most hairdressers thinking they have full creative control and leaves me with another 3 years of growing out my horrid haircut.

Tes.