October thoughts

I am finding this new routine a little confusing, and I feel out of sync with it all. I don't have bi-weekly essays to structure my week, instead just an excessive amount of reading. So much feels scheduled, and I think perhaps that triggered the melancholy sense of monotony that got me down yesterday. 

But, as my friend soothed yesterday, we have had some beautifully fun times, and there have been too many good days to count. Its just a different rhythm and a different world.

Here are some good things

Riding my bike - she's beautiful and smooth and so silent 

The incremental reminder, in libraries or classes, of why I love what I do 

Morning walks in the sun 

Having the time to run, listening to Lizzo, and feeling my body process it all

The college cats I can see from my window 

Hugging my puppy last weekend 

Getting my third replacement university card, and finally getting into the libraries again 

Yoghurt and granola, eaten religiously with a coffee, as I watch the world wake up 

My mum transferring me money for said yoghurt, because despite it only being 1st week, I am skint (thank u student finance!)

Missing dancing, but being able to drunkenly talk instead

My friend leaving chocolate outside my room 

Velcro Vejas which, despite their excessive cost, I am in love with 

Oscillating between 10pm and 1am bedtimes, and finding no in between – because it's challenging my excessive need for control 

Philip Glass, especially Facades and 'String Quartet no. 2 'Company', for working music 

A trip to buy pens, which accidentally resulted in lunch out, and of course, no pens

So times are good, but they are strange and forever teetering on the unknown precipice. 

Since being here, I've noticed the magic Sertraline has endowed, and how dulled and tame my anxiety feels. Which is a wonder, but the lack of tears is perhaps a little disconcerting, especially when I can feel how much I want them. Odd.

Tonight I am going for drinks, and tomorrow a meal, and after that I can't really think. Just plough through my reading on 1989, try and find a little more rhythm, and continue to excessively worry about what's next. 

How are y'all?

(pic sources: 1) view from my window 2) @butterscotch_isle (via @sweetthangzine 3) @metmuseum 4) @ghastlypeak )

rain and sun

The sky is a perpetual grey, and it hasn't stopped raining in four days. Spirits are a little brighter than the pathetic fallacy suggests, though. Third year has started differently to others, with restrictions reminiscent of a boarding school (being told off for being in a boys room, scandalous!), but its been fun and chaotic, and we're making it work. 

Alongside returning to libraries, and pleading my way in as I've lost my university card for the fourth time, I've drank a lot of wine, been to a lot of cafes, been dragged on a very muddy and very fast run, illicitly hugged a lot of people, kept my crying to a minimum, and felt a strange sort of stability.

These days are odd and uncertain, but my room, with the view over the quad and my friends next door, feels safe and permanent in an idyllic sort of way 

I've learned how to make posh pot noodles with just a kettle, that broccoli doesn't steam in an egg boiler, that I really do miss my puppy and that rain can feel interminable. I have some insanely wonderful friends in this bizarre city, and am trying to fight the irrational thoughts that tell me I am alone. 

So all in all, good times, people. 

After a week of (10pm) nights out, I forced myself to sit with the discomfort of silence and calm last night, but quickly ran next door to Vassia's to paint instead. Something about this place makes being alone so hard. To recenter, I've booked a solo slot at the modern art gallery, to remind myself that my head is my own, and that this is an important and valuable thing to do. 

A new routine is gradually being adapted to, which happens every year but this more than any. Factoring in 10pm closing times, 6pm dinners, and having to clean my own room (shock! horror!). It's strange and a little uncertain, but isn't everything in this mad year.

So this year, my third, might be a little quieter than most. Maybe more evenings reading and chatting, painting or sleeping – but I am trying to remind myself that this is good. Different, but good. 

Now I must brave the rain to get my washing, and clean my bathroom as I've left it a little too long. 

How are you all adapting to a new term and a new life? Let's hope for some sun.