january

Some nice scenez out the library windows I have been stuck behind for endless hours.

Its a bright fresh January morning. It is this weather in which Oxford looks the most magical. 

The return has been good and strange. I feel at home and as though I belong which is good, and necessary and relieving. I didn't know how would feel when I came back and was nervous to leave comforts and my cat.

But it feels like I never left.  

In the past 6 days I have: sat my first exam, been out 3 times, read for and written 2 essays (lol not fun–turns out u can't condense the reading for the causes of the collapse of the Roman empire into 6 hours!), handed in 2 appalling essays, had a mint tutorial on gender nd politics, gossiped, watched a lot of drama unfold, drank a lot of coffee and laughed a lot and listened to penguin cafe orchestra on repeat. 

I suppose when I think of it in those terms, my anxiety and fatigue appear justifiable. We all laugh that we spend 90% of our time complaining about Oxford, despite the fact we a) actually love it nd b) chose to be here. I mean what did we expect. But sometimes it does feel ruthless. Cramming 11 essays into 8 weeks, making u write them prior to any teaching, giving u so much work that everything you hand in is actually just shit. Its such a microcosm nd a beautiful bubble, but still a bubble. I'm struggling to understand how these two worlds fit together, how to establish some coherence between normality and intensity. And also to fight the pervading imposter syndrome, the endless voice that you're not clever enough, that you shouldn't actually be here. But alas, I am. So fuck it. 

Maybe its January, maybe its hormones, maybe its just life, but my brain has been on overdrive recently. The only thing that makes me think I'm not enjoying myself is me questioning whether I'm enjoying myself. Its found on no sense of unhappiness or loneliness or dejection, its just my brain thinking "am I enjoying this?" to the point where I question whether I am. I fucking wish it'd shut up sometimes! I think I'm feeling a lot more on edge than I have in a long time nd maybe its getting a bit too much. I can feel it in my shoulders. 

Its that mentality where u think: if I could just relax this would be amazing. But the relaxation isn't happening. Ugh. 

But really this city is beautiful nd I'm so lucky and challenged and the people r so interesting and clever and its magical. 

I just need to find some means of relaxation. Getting my brain to stop worrying. Because there's nothing structural to worry about.

"nobody is in love with me and everything is still soft and warm"–trista mateer (got some thoughts on love but we'll save them, enough existentialising for one day)