My first day has been and gone...

Twelve hours, three panic attacks later and having sat and cried for at least two hours at various points throughout the day and evening, my first day as an actual teacher is over.

It was awful. I forgot the one thing I really, desperately needed to remember.

Plus, my class are... challenging. To say the least.

And I'm overwhelmed and don't think I can actually do it. There's so much to remember, so much to do and the teaching bit of things seems to take up such a small part of the day and is almost 'that annoying thing you do between paperwork'. Teaching really is the easy bit, and I never thought I'd say that.

Anyway, back to the marking. And target setting (despite not knowing the kids or even their names yet). And lesson resourcing. And lesson planning for next week. And tracking. And sorting out my NQT file. Maybe I'll just curl up in the foetal position instead.

Shit.

Is there anyone else with any "awful first day" stories to share? I could do with the "you're not alone" sense of camaraderie which I get from my lovely readers...

Two weeks to go...

This time in two weeks, I will have woken up after an awful night's sleep (more than likely). I will have danced my way around the flat with excitement. I will then have picked up my keys with shoes, bag and coat on and ready, stood at my front door and realised what I'm actually going to do and then, probably, cry.

This time in two weeks, I will have gotten over that panic attack (or at least will be doing a fricking good job of pretending I'm calm) and walked to school. I will busy myself with a few odd jobs which won't need doing because everything is already sorted for the first day. Then I will go out to the playground and collect my class.

My class. With 29 real, live children. Children who are my responsibility. Not just to keep them safe, but to actually manage them and oh my goodness is that going to be a challenge and a half and then, on top of all that, I actually have to teach them things.

I'm fairly certain I don't know how to teach.

Shit.

/panic

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...

Today has been an epic see-saw of a day...

10:30am - Time to collect results. Disappointed with my dissertation mark, but not surprised.
10:35am - Pick up module results for the final 2 modules. Only, one has gone missing.
11:20am - Still no sign of my assignment, despite four different people now scouring the university for it. all lecturers on strike today.
12:05pm - My friends all go out for lunch without inviting me. "Friends"
12:20pm - Realise the ramifications of them having lost my work if it doesn't get found. Lots of tears.
12:21pm - Send panicky email to module leader. She says she is on the case.
1:45pm - Results emailed through. Gutted, actually, gutted. I've been bordering on a first for my entire degree and slip up at the final hurdle. 2:1 it is then.
1:46pm - My school ring. They have had a teacher pull out for September and wonder if I would perhaps like to teach year 3 instead next year. Very happy, year 3s are my ideal year group and I could not be happier!
2:50pm - My headteacher rings to tell me about a dangerous, nasty family who live on my road. And oh yeah, their son is in my class.

What a fucking, awful day. Excuse my French.

Bollocks.

Decision making and being quite terrified.

I have always known I am dreadful at making decisions.

Unless I have a very strong preference either one way or the other, I need a second person to help me make the decision, to help me balance my logic and generally to confirm/dispute any 'vague ideas' I might have about whatever I'm deciding. I knew, therefore, that this would be something that I have to get over as I move out this week and take on all responsibility from everything from furniture, bills to choosing which cereal to buy. The cereal issue, in particular, is one I always find difficult. I mean, you walk down the cereal aisle and there are so many choices, all of differing tastes, prices, nutritional value, ones which are more filling, ones which are branded, ones which are not... and it isn't something that I have a strong preference for, I like lots of different cereals, and therefore I have always been quite ridiculously overwhelmed by this ordeal.

(Slightly dramatic but it really is one of my anxiety triggers).

So it's no wonder really that I have spent nearly 3 days selecting all my furniture. And even in doing that, I needed my Mum's opinion on a few things, but finally I did manage to come to a decision and place my order today. That was an ordeal in itself, and it will leave me pretty-much housebound for a fortnight whilst I wait in for deliveries, but I actually have my own furniture. Furniture I chose and furniture I now have to live with whether I like it or not - I only have myself to blame and, that thought, I find very scary. Which is why, I guess, I find making decisions about expensive things difficult and why I usually try to avoid it.

But no more! It will be one of those things I have to do and have to get used to whether I like it or not which, let's face it, is the best way to get over stupid little hang-ups like this.

Although I do have to go food shopping and choose some cereal on Saturday...

Shall I just have toast for breakfast?

Anyway, in other news, the managing agent rang me yesterday to say they had painted every wall, door and ceiling in the flat, that it was being cleaned today by a "team of professional cleaners" and that the door and chain were also being fixed today. Which is great news, and a great comfort to see I have such pro-active managing agents who are straight on the case of any problems. He said he would ring back to confirm it had all been done and other than insisting that he goes round to personally inspect the property, which clearly was not done before, I'll finally be ready to move in on Saturday.

Just the case of university results day tomorrow...

As if I'm not anxious enough this week.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

(As literate as ever...)

On nights like tonight.

I'm scared of going to sleep.

This may sound a bit strange, and I really ought to clarify it isn't the actual sleep which I'm scared of, it's the process of getting to sleep. It's the lying in bed with the events of the day whirling around in your head, and yet you're not quite conscious enough to have control over how they develop - this is the stage that I'm scared of. I think this has been going on for about four years now, and for four years unless I'm sharing a bed with someone I've always kept my TV on so I can listen to it rather than my own thoughts and this is the only way I can get to sleep.

Now, I'm not sure if it has become a habit (because although it takes a while, I can sleep without the telly when someone is here) or why I still have these problems, but the thought of going to bed without my TV on makes me cry and I literally cannot bring myself to turn it off. It's one of the few anxious behaviours I still have left, and given that on a daily basis it doesn't really bother me, it's not a behaviour I feel desperate to get rid of. However, on nights like tonight when I feel like the whole world is pushing me down, I wish I could just go to sleep to forget it all but it won't be that simple and this is when it annoys me. Even thinking about sleep gives me butterflies, and every time I think about it to even write this, I feel my heart beat a little bit faster.

I just wish I could choose when I switched off, rather than having to watch TV until I can't keep my eyes open any more. I wish I could just lie in bed without going over every bad thing that's ever happened to me. And on nights like tonight, I wish I could forget everything that happened today.

You see, due to what's now going round my university about me (and seriously, I knew rumours were bullshit but until I became the subject of one I didn't realise quite how much rubbish they were) and despite the fact that today was our last lecture, I just cannot stop going over it in my head. It's making me not want to go out, and I even contemplated shunning my friends from uni in the attempt to get rid of the association for good, but I know that's ridiculous and definitely so given what is going on.

I already hated most of the people on my course anyway, I now can't wait to leave and be with grown ups and not have these stupid, petty little problems dominating my life because, let's be honest, this really isn't an important issue. It's just a shame it's one of those stupid things that gets into your head and makes you feel small and ridiculed.

I swear, getting involved in that boy was more hassle than the good times were worth...

(I realise this post is a bit cryptic and unless you know me, which none of you do, some of this will make no sense. I just can't bring myself to tell you what they are saying, it's embarrassing enough without spreading the joy...)

Dating.

Ok, so, following the events of the other night and a looooot of texting, I now have a date for Wednesday daytime and I am panicking slightly!

Dating is very much out of my comfort zone, it's not something I have ever done given that I started going out with my first boyfriend aged 15, the second was my best friend and the third was also a friend first and whenever you read a magazine or a website there are lists of 'dos and don'ts' for dating and I have none of this etiquette established. How are you supposed to behave? How much of your true self do you reveal, or is it supposed to be the ultimate, preened, goddess-like version of yourself that turns up? What sort of questions should I ask? And how does a daytime date work differently to a normal meal? I mean, for a start, it is potentially much longer and although I don't know what we're doing yet, I get the feeling he's done this a lot more often than I have (which, lets face it, isn't a record which takes much beating) because he seems much more confident and I have no idea how to play this.

My main concern is that I've never been particularly good at conversation, I'm so scared of the awkward silences that I tend to witter away, and as for interesting conversation starters, they never come to me. I so rarely meet new people, I've had my friendship group established for years now, and the whole process of meeting someone and getting to know them and letting them in to my life is really daunting and I just feel like I have no idea how to go about that. I suppose that's born out of a lack of experience and the only way to get over that is to get out into the real world and start meeting new people, but in the mean time, am I going to endure endless awkward silences and failed attempts at functioning like a normal human being in social situations?

And in another point, how have I made it to 22 without having ever experienced this? Is it sad I've never been out on a date before? I am literally terrified, at this rate, I doubt I'll even make it out the door without bursting into tears or being sick. Lord help me...

Aaaaaah, panic! (Not my most articulate post, I'll grant you...)

The one thing I am less scared about, however is what to wear, which for some reason isn't actually stressing me out that much? Although in all fairness, when I met him I was dressed as Posh Spice with full 90s outfit, hair and make-up, so compared to that I could wear almost anything and look amazing, which is one less stress off my mind at least.

Does anyone have any tips or words of wisdom to impart? Help me!

Panic.

I knew Plymouth would one day crush me, I just didn't see that it had already happened. I literally lay in bed all day yesterday sulking, crying and playing a load of self-indulgent songs from my ipod (we all do it sometimes, it helps to vent, or so I tell myself) at a single realisation.

In the world, there is something called the "Five degrees of separation" (or six, depending on what you read), which means that somehow, everyone in the world is the friend of a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend *counts back to check* that you already know regardless of how you know that person, where they live etc. I think in Plymouth though, I think it's no more than 2 degrees at the very most, and realising that in anything more than a lighthearted "oh so you are so-and-so's sister?" way is beyond awful. I'm actually really worried, I've come so far and I just cannot, cannot, cannot go back. Not now.

When I finished my GCSEs aged 16, I had the worst two years of my life. The long summer was hell, with various 'friends' either making my life hell or, the lesser of two evils, not bothering with me at all. I was depressed, and spent every day of the summer on the internet talking to people online to not feel alone and to feel valid. Sixth form was worse, because those people who dragged me down were suddenly there every day again and seemed to be on some sort of vendetta against me to make my life awful. In English lessons for example, there were only 9 of us in the A-Level class and in our double lesson on Fridays we would take it in turn to bring in sweets. And then, every week except when it was my turn, the people in my group would proceed to pass the sweets round and would purposely not offer me any. No-one would sit next to me in the common room and I spent a lot of my time sat in the computer suite alone because at least there I could send an email or something to make myself feel better about having no friends.

By the final year there, I was barely going because I knew my self-esteem couldn't take any more. In fact, there was nothing left of my self-esteem. The only friend I had there was a girl who I used to go to the school gym with in the mornings, and together we developed anorexia and competed against each other for fitness and weight-loss aims but at least it felt safe because we were the same, we never told anyone what we did and it was our little secret. All of this self-destruction, I still believe now, was down to a few girls whom had been my 'friends', but who had constantly put me down to feed their own self-esteem and then turned on me to stop others from having anything to do with me.

Four years later, I'm sat here now a much stronger person. I have friends, I have a healthy relationship with food against all odds, I'm confident and I'm happy. The girls who dragged me down have nothing to do with me any more, and the ex boyfriend who ruined me last year is out of my life too. This last year has been the cherry on top in the process of sorting my life out and know if I hadn't got rid of those people from my life, I couldn't honestly say I'd even still be alive.

Until today, that is, I believed I was without them. But the 2 degrees of separation mean that I've realised without any facebook stalking (because they popped up on my feed in other people's photos) that they are creeping back in. They are one night away from being back in my lives again; they are in the outer proximities of my social group; they are now friends with other friends of mine they didn't know before and eventually, I can see it now, we will be invited to the same event and everything I've fought so hard to escape will be stood in front of me, gloating and bitching whilst I feel smaller and smaller until I want to cry.

Ex boyfriends too. I have enough trouble avoiding the one I see every time I go to uni that I didn't think to keep an eye out for the other one. He's the one who reduced me to nothing until I ruined our relationship before he proceeded to kick me out, keep all the stuff that was jointly owned and leave me homeless. He hurt me so much I've not even ever dealt with it, I think it's just been repressed and ignored and whilst you could argue that's not helpful, I didn't realise that until recently and even now I have no intention of digging it out again. Again, I just shunned him from my life but again, at some point, he will be there at the same time as me and I'll have to face it. I can see him there, I can see who he spends his time with now and I can see how my social group is starting to slide together with his. This is not the time in my life for this.

I feel so trapped, I feel like I have to watch my step, like I have to watch who I go out with, where and when in an attempt to keep those people from coming back and wreaking havoc in my life again. I know I'm stronger now, a part of me even thinks I could hold my head up high and manage it, but there's that little bit of me which is saying 'why risk that, keep your distance' because inside every one of us, there is still that insecure 16-year-old who doesn't take much knocking down.

I need to get out of here now. I know I can't, I know I have at least 1 month 3 days before I am truly free, but that cannot come soon enough because this city feels like a ticking time-bomb now, waiting to collapse around me and prove that actually, I'm not as strong as I thought. And I want that to be wrong, I want it to prove that I am strong when it happens but I can't take that risk right now because it's taken me four years to get to where I am today and I have better things to do with my life than spend another four years sorting myself out again.

Sorry for the rant but I'm panicking, in case you hadn't noticed. I just don't know what to do other than become a recluse and hide which won't help and it's messed with my brain so much I can feel my heart racing in my chest and my breathing becoming more panicky. I need to find a way to handle this, to keep everything from coliding again. I need a movie-esque (or at least mediocre-TV-programme-esque) plan...