A long over-due update.

This week has been absolutely amazing.

I did it. I gave him the letter. We talked and he listened to me, he understood and the whole thing went better than I ever could have imagined. We aired everything that was a problem, we talked about things we didn't even realise were causing problems and it felt great to be free of it all and to really have him listen to me. A lot of my suspicions were confirmed (mainly to do with other people butting their noses in) but the main ones were not. I know he loves me for the right reasons now, I know he always did and I'm only sorry it's taken me until now to realise it. But now it's out, we both know where we stand and at that moment, we sat in the restaurant and looked at each other, realising everything we had ever wanted and, when all is said and done, that we have nothing to lose but perhaps a whole lifetime of happiness to gain from trying again. I fell in love with him all over again in that second and from the moment he reached out and grabbed my hand, we took on a completely different relationship and laughed, joked and talked for hours.

Actually, not just hours. Days. This was last Tuesday, it is now Sunday night and I have just got back home. I could try to explain how amazing these last few days have been but they would not do it any justice at all because they have been the best few days I've had in years and suddenly, my future, as well as my present, seems so much brighter.

If only I didn't hate being at home now because you're not here.

And so the soppy, new relationship type thing starts. And I could not be happier.

Back to reality tomorrow. I have a classroom to sort...

I'm not sure if I'm scared or excited.

A few weeks ago, I posted a letter I wrote to my ex. On Tuesday, I am actually going to give it to him. I have edited it quite a bit, after all, it was written at 2am in an insomniac state, but on Tuesday I can finally put those issues with him to rest.

You see, we've been talking a lot since graduation on Thursday and we both really want to at least salvage our friendship if nothing else. However, to do that, we need to air all the stuff that brought us down before because unless we completely break our relationship, we can't truly fix it. And I'm excited in a way because it means it will mean we can be in each other's lives again but, at the same time, I'm terrified. He is writing a letter too, which is great because it means he can get out some of the things he never told me but that does make me nervous. I mean, he has never once said anything negative about me or our relationship and whilst it was obviously not a good thing that he kept things bottled up, it means I have absolutely no idea what to expect. I know that nothing in my letter is that new to him, although he would never really listen before and would usually dismiss it, what ever he says to me will be new and probably quite painful to hear.

But it needs to be done and if it means I have my best friend back at the end of it all then great. If it means I have the person I still believe I am supposed to be with back at the end, then even better.

God I want this to work with him. I love that arrogant git so much. And yet he's actually going to listen to me for once...

"The bloodbath"

A.K.A. My Graduation day.

3 things in one room I wanted to avoid - 1) my parent's constant arguing and my Mum's consequential tantrums and sulking; 2) my ex boyfriend who I still love and adore; 3) the fact that actually, I didn't do as well in my degree as I thought.

And yet, actually, none of them were as bad as I thought. For once, and I know this sounds selfish, but the day was actually all about me and my achievement and it really was lovely. So, what happened?

1) Parent's avoided each other, Mum didn't shout, the precise timetabling of photo opportunities etc worked beautifully. Everyone was actually proud, or at least, feigned pride.

2) Spent a lot of time with 'him' and managed not to cry. Spoke to 'his' family and generally enjoyed being around him. Have arranged meeting on Tuesday and gave him his birthday card for tomorrow. Lovely.

3) Spoke to a university tutor who submitted a mark 20 marks higher than what I actually got. The mistake is being ironed out and I will only be bloody graduating with FIRST CLASS HONOURS! So excited and over-whelmed I cried. A lot. Bawled like a baby, actually, and everyone was so proud of me it really was the absolute cherry on the cake.

As perfect as it possibly could have been. Bliss. <3

Did you know we can't throw our caps in the air now? Health and Safety, you could lose an eye...

How did I get here?

How did I go from being confident and independent to sitting in my car crying because my graduation day tomorrow has been pretty much ruined before it's even started? I was doing fine in my little bubble of ignorance back in London, I could keep myself busy so as not to let these thoughts get to me. But now I'm here, it's getting to me. Really, really getting to me.

My Grandparents won't come because they don't want to get in the middle of this crap. My Dad is affectionately referring to the day as "the bloodbath". My Mum is still sulking and can't even muster up some fake pride. My ex-boyfriend will be there and given how stupidly in love with him I still am, despite how much he hurt me, that will really be the cherry on top of the giant shit that will be tomorrow.

I literally feel the lowest I've felt in months, if not years. Tomorrow is the day every horrible thing in my life will be in the same room. For 2 hours, if not longer. And every time I think about it, I cry.

Bring on the next 24 hours. Let's get them over and done with as soon as possible so I can go back to pretending my life is OK, my family aren't messed up and I don't miss that horrible, amazing boy.

An overdue update.

This last week at school has been more than busy! In fact, it has been borerline overwhelming at times and in our little group of new teachers we've had tears, tantrums, panic attacks... the lot. I can only hope September comes with much less of a shock as we start to settle in to school.

The school itself is lovely. All the staff are helpful, welcoming and always full of advice and tips, if only it were possible to remember everything we've been told. The ethos of the school and the teaching that results, however, is very different to what I'm used to but, at the end of the day, this is an 'outstanding' school for a reason and if it helps me tog row into the 'outstanding' teacher I want to be then all the better. Hopefully, within a few weeks, their way of doing things, their behaviour policies and timetabling will all become second nature and it will become easier. Or rather, I hope so because, if I show even a moment of weakness, my class will eat me alive.

And as for my new class, they will make or break me. And at the very least they will challenge me in every way possible: behaviour, academic, social issues, language, religion... all very different to what I am used to. Fingers crossed that by going in strict and military (quote from the current class teacher) in September, I can set the appropriate boundaries to be able to bring about the best learning.

Hopefully.

Meanwhile, this weekend was a big mistake. I don't want to talk about it because I don't want to think about it. I just want to pretend it never happened, to be quite honest. I knew it was going to be a bad idea before it happened, so why I didn't I stop it? Bloody stupid girl, getting in too deep as always. Note to self: always trust my gut instinct in future. It's always right.

And, as it turns out, I can't replace you. It is you I miss, not just having 'someone'.

I want a 'you' cuddle.

My very busy week

I wish I had time for a proper post, but I am so tired both physically and mentally after my first week at school that I really ought to hit the sack tonight.

But it has been a good week, and one worthy of a full-length post soon. Plus, no doubt this weekend will be a complete disaster and, again, a catch-up will be required.

So, happy weekend everyone! Hope you all have a good one and I look forward to rejoining the blogsphere next week.

Paperwork.

I knew teaching was a lot of paperwork, I just had no idea how much. Today we have been absolutely bombarded with planning proformas, assessment files, IEPs, pupil trackers, CEDPs, CPD files... so many other pieces of paper which I can't even remember to list. I arrived with a bag and left with a box, which pretty much sums up probably the rest of my life, never mind just my day! It's going to be a very busy and very intense year, and I cannot wait.

I saw my classroom today too for the first time. My classroom, mine of my very own to do with what I like, and I'm now counting down the days until I can get in there and start decorating away 'til my heart's content.

All in all, a very exciting, very busy and slightly overwhelming but amazing day.



I'm an actual teacher. Still can't believe it...

My 9-year-old self would be so proud of me.

Tomorrow I start work at an actual school. As a teacher. As a paid, real teacher.

And I'm just ever-so-slightly excited...

It may be the single most exciting thing that has ever happened to me! Every single decision I have made in the last six years has been leading up to tomorrow, and tomorrow I get to become to person I have always dreamed of. When I was nine years old, I decided I wanted to become a teacher and if that little-me could see me now, she'd be so proud to see I achieved my absolute dream job. Although I doubt she'd be surprised, I've always had a severe determined streak to my personality. Generally what I want, I get. Not in a bad way, I just know what I want and never give up. It's one of the few personality traits I wouldn't change about myself because without it, I wouldn't be sat here today.

And even better, it will give me something to do to take the focus away from this strange delayed heartbreak I seem to be suffering two months after the break-up. No idea why it's hitting me now, but I won't dwell on it. Again.

So, back to the point of this post...

I FRICKING DID IT!

Wish me luck!

A letter to someone from your past.

Dear You,

I can’t sleep. You have been going round and round my mind again for the last couple of days and although I’ve sworn to myself that I won’t contact you, I have some things I wish I had said to you. Maybe one day I’ll get the courage to send you this letter, or maybe just writing it down will be enough to get me to sleep, enough to help me let go.

Don’t get me wrong, things with us weren’t always bad. Actually, most of the time, things were amazing. I remember one day, after we had been going out for about three or four months, whilst driving to work, Our song came on. I sat and cried, almost hysterically, but they were completely happy tears and the hysteria a mixture of insane smiling and happy giggles. I was actually in love with you and right there and then I understood what other people had always said about being in love. I was so happy I couldn’t even contain it, hence the tears.

But from that point onwards, and actually, with hindsight I now know it started a bit before, you started to wear me down. You paint yourself as a confident, almost arrogant, person on the outside but we both know that’s a cover up. I don’t have a problem with that as such, but the way that you make yourself fell better, I cannot handle. I had a friend like you, once, who used to get all of her self-esteem by putting other people down and after being in her life for about 18 months, she decided she had drained me of all confidence-boosting and ditched me. Why did she think she had drained me? Because she had. She left me, a 16 year old, single anorexic behind because how could she get her self-esteem by leeching from someone who had none?

Ok, I know things didn’t get quite that bad between us, but you were wearing me down in the same way. It was like you had to be better than me at everything, and when you were, you had to rub it in. If you did better on an assignment than me, you rubbed it in my face until I cried. If you cooked something that was better than my attempts, you went on and on about it until I cried... I think you notice the pattern here. It made me feel like there was no point in trying to achieve anything because the achievement meant nothing to you other than as a new goal. Something to achieve, something to beat. I knew I could never make you proud because you would only ever feel that you had to surpass me and as a consequence, I began to see signs of slipping back into the protective, self-destructive shell that I used to spend my life in. And I started to struggle from that point onwards.

However, it wasn’t solely that which started to ebb away at my self-esteem. It was knowing that you were always settling with me, that I was there to serve a purpose and nothing else. I know I’ve told you before that I remember talking to you in our first year, and you said that you preferred dating men but that you disagreed with same-sex marriage and parenthood so you would only ever marry a woman. I sat there right then and thought, “holy shit, I feel sorry for the poor girl who you end up settling with”, and yet I nearly let myself become her. I know what you want from life, and I know you want that stereotypical wife and 2.4 children, and that was what you wanted me for. Not only that, but you tried to mould me into the person you wanted for your game of Happy Families. You obviously have it set out in your head that a couple get together then, after a set amount of time, they live together. Then they get engaged. Then they get married. And it seems to me that you have no intention of ever deviating even slightly from that plan. Which is why it all kicked off when I said that I didn’t want to live with you yet. You took it to mean that I didn’t want the same things as you just because I didn’t fit into your schedule and I again ended up feeling like I wasn’t good enough for you. So you walked away, choosing to leave me for not fitting your mould rather than wait for me to be ready.

And this was why I got so upset that night I got insanely drunk and rang you at 3am. Because after you ‘outed’ T to me and I found out from him what he actually said, by those standards, you were basically outing yourself, thus proving that you were just settling with me so you could get married, have children and keep your family happy. I was enabling the life that you always wanted because I wanted the same things as you. We just never aligned our time-frames.

I don’t blame you entirely for this. I mean, when we got together and you told me what you wanted, you seemed perfect. You wanted everything the last one didn’t, you were perfect. I just didn’t realise I had to run with your timings, I didn’t realise I couldn’t just settle into things at my own pace and it never occurred to me to check this with you.

And right then, at that moment when you tried to walk out on me for, God forbid, saying I wanted something slightly different than you, I realised what I was. I don’t doubt that you love(d) me, I just don’t think it was for the right reasons. I realised I wasn’t what you wanted and that I could never live up to your precise standards, and I felt useless, unloved and unappreciated. The worst thoughts ran through my mind at that time, as I realised that actually, I could see why the last one cheated on you. I could see why she needed some affection because even though I was kind of getting it from you, actually, I wasn’t. You loved me for being a future wife and mother, not for me. You tried to change me, you reduced my abilities to a series of challenges and completely ruined me when I tried to step away from your prescription.

Then I gave you another chance. I asked you not to do something and you did it, showing that again, respecting me and my wishes meant nothing if you felt your agenda was more important. Then you told me to stay with you despite feeling that I didn’t trust you because, again, my happiness shouldn’t interrupt your master plans. As long as you were happy and got to keep me, who cares what I felt, right?

And this is why I can’t sleep tonight. Because I’m lying here, thinking about someone who I love but who I can’t stand. Someone who I love but who doesn’t love me enough to let me be me. Someone who I love but who is so caught up in his own motives that I can’t have my own. I’m now scared, really fricking scared, where once I felt confident. I wonder if I’ll be a good enough teacher, if I’m strong enough to survive on my own, if I’m a good enough friend and actually, I don’t just wonder, I worry. And that’s not something I’ve felt in a long time.

And despite this, I still fucking love you.

Don’t get me wrong, I can’t stand you. But I still love you.

And I’m still not tired. My mind is still swimming. But it’s out now. And maybe one day you’ll read this and maybe you won’t do it again. Or maybe one day you’ll read this and laugh it off because my opinions have never mattered, have they? You probably think this is the rambling of a bitter woman who is feeling lonely and therefore is in no way based on truth. It is, by the way, but if you’ve gotten this far and think that then nothing I can do or say will change that.

Good luck in the future. I hope it’s a bit crap. Not too bad, but I don’t want you to be too happy. That’s just not fair. I want to win for once, I want to have a better life.

Love from,
Me.

P.S. If I ever do send this to you, or you find it another way, then I would appreciate a reply. Just a few words so I know you've read it and maybe to know that I didn't waste my time.

My new skills.

I am fast becoming a flat-pack furniture goddess.

But, if after this week I ever see another box of flat-pack, I fully expect to have a complete nervous breakdown. Even sight of some instructions may well send me into shock, my poor knees couldn't take another minute so I highly expect they would just disintegrate and leave me crumpled on the floor. Flat-pack is not fun, neither is moving tonnes of boxes around to make room for the furniture, only to have to move them back to unpack. Now, I consider myself to be fairly fit and active, but another few boxes and I may well be ruined. You can teach on crutches, right? 

I am also good at cleaning disgusting things left by the previous tenant without gagging.

I was going to write more about this but even thinking about the things I cleaned in the bathroom this morning is making me gag. Some people are disgusting. Enough said.

I am also good at working my shiny new Sky+ box.

I realise this is one of those products that solves a problem that didn't previously exist. I have made it through my entire life without feeling the need to record programmes whilst watching something else, and I have managed without 'series link' to record all my favourite programmes in case I forget them, yet I expect this will become a product I, now, couldn't live without. Sad but true. 

I am good at cooking without the use of most major appliances.

When I use the grill, the smoke alarm goes off. When I use the hob, it takes absolutely forever to heat up so if I ever needed a seering-hot pan to perhaps cook a steak or seal some meat, short of starting a fire in the garden, I couldn't do it. The oven works though, so it'll be casseroles and roast dinners galore for the next year. Or anything which needs simmering on a low heat for large amounts of time.


I am good at being on my own. Actually, it doesn't bother me now I've settled. Which is great news.

Yay!

Something on the horizon.

I need to start by apologising for my last few posts. It's been a hard few days, I've found myself overwhelmed on more than one occasion but I'm beginning to settle into a new routine now and hopefully I can keep on top of my anxiety again. Blogging helped though, I knew I had taken this up again for a reason. It helped me to feel much less lonely when the feeling really kicked in. Which it has, there's no doubt about it, but it's not bothering me too much today.

I think having something to look forward to is an amazing motivation. I expect that a lack of it, as I now have everything I've been counting down to, has been partly to blame with my negative mood and anxiety difficulties recently. This theory seems to have been further confirmed today because now I have things to get excited about again, suddenly I am finding myself much more able to cope.

So, here's my happy list for the month:

11th - I start my induction week at school. Activities include a social night, a transfer meeting and meeting my new class. I am SO excited about that I cannot begin to describe;
16th - I have a friend coming to stay. The friend I said I would stop seeing... oh well;
20th - Back to Devon;
21st - My graduation ceremony;
22nd - Only going to see actual Jeremy Kyle being filmed!
23rd - Weekend with the grandparents and my Dad. Plus car shopping with my Dad, but he doesn't know that yet;
29th - I inherit my classroom. MY classroom, to do with whatever I like!

And, most importantly of all, today is my last early morning because of deliveries and it is the last day of waiting around for even more deliveries. I'll be free to get out and do what I want, explore a few more places and I can eventually have my trek out to Ikea. Don't try to tell me I don't know how to live...

Life is much more peaceful today. I'm feeling good :)

Anxiety issues.

I have suffered with an anxiety disorder since I was 16, and whilst I've always had it at the back of my mind, the coping strategies which I have developed over the last few years have meant that actually, it hasn't really bothered me.

Now, however, I have moved away from everything I know and love, am on my own with not very much stuff to show for it and suddenly I'm finding myself in the same position I was 6 years ago. I'm having short, intense breakdowns which take me about an hour to recover from, I'm having panic attacks and hyperventilating, and all of this because I have no routine any more. This has been the worst it has been in years and has been going on for about four days now, both before and after the move. Although, in defence of my crazy side, I haven't really done much to help myself.

For a start, I definitely should not have gone shopping in Morrisons, I should have driven to Tesco. They would have had all the things I know and am familiar with rather than forcing me to make decisions. For example, I know what type of cheese we have from Tesco: the Tesco own brand cheddar with the red headers. Do I know what strength that is? No. Do Morrisons use the same red headers? No. So did I know which cheese I like? No. They also didn't have the bread I like, the tinned fruit I like... and generally I found the whole experience very overwhelming and by the time I got to the refrigerated goods, I was feeling very light headed and getting worried glances from fellow shoppers at the depth of my breathing. It sounds stupid but I should have stuck to what I knew, especially at the moment.

I am, however, shopping aside, in a heightened state of anxiety which I expected, I've suffered this way every time I've moved/taken a new job in the past but I haven't been this bad since I was much younger. I'm starting to notice the obsessive behaviour coming back in (I have issues with the locks/bolts on my door and whether it's safe to open the blinds in my flat), the difficulty with sleeping is back because I can't use my coping mechanism of having the TV on and I'm finding the physical effects to be more severe before. For example, I have never ever gone off my food before, but I feel so sick even a piece of bread with jam on didn't go well.

I think I just need to keep busy, I'm fine until I stop. Must. Find. Something. To. Do...

Moving is hard.

Suddenly it hit me that I'm actually all on my own. I live here now, actual London, with no-one else, with no friends locally and generally with nothing to do. 9 weeks until I start work, and until then and I get to meet people, I'm on my own. Shit.

Being lonely sucks. I expected to feel like this at some point in this year of living on my own, but I didn't expect it to really hit as soon as my Mum left yesterday. I thought I'd have too much stuff to do, which I do, but that's worse because it just reminds me I have nothing to look forward to anymore.

I'm scared and want a fucking cuddle.

And I need to find some money. I can't sell my car, I just can't. I can't be this cut off and isolated. I need to speak to my Dad...