My Struggles with Anxiety and Depression

Of all the topics I could've started this blog with, I understand that mental health is a heavy one. With the ability to write freely once more without feeling guilty or stumped, as well as finally having finished university, I have time to think about myself and to reflect on why I vanished on the online world for nearly a year. In the process of writing this blog post, I've almost finished a chapter of Love Olympics, whence I wanted this to be ready in time. I've been on a three year journey that I want to share with people, because I think it's important to know that you're not alone in the world, no matter how bad you might be feeling. 

I want this to be a blog post that people can look at and relate to, but it's a story that covers a three year period. It's not going to be a short blog post, which is the main reason why I didn't put it into my regular Author's Notes. I wanted to be able to really express where my heart was and, more importantly, where my head drifted away to. It felt easier to write it down as a blog post, so that people could take a look if they wanted to, as well as giving me the opportunity to appreciate the wonderful people who have helped me throughout these years.

1: In the Beginning, there was...

...me, XOs. It's an understatement of the century, but before I can talk about my university years, I need to give a little prelude. Mental health has always been a huge part of my life, but I didn't know it existed until just 3 years ago. I turn 21 in 25 days, so in the scale of things, I really knew nothing about why I constantly felt under the weather, or why I struggled with socialising whilst the rest of my friends were able to communicate with large groups of people with being... well, sick.

The Tiny Years

Anxiety is difficult to recognise in children. It's not a physical thing, but it can make you feel physical things. My whole "gimmick" as a child was that I was a hypochondriac. Anything could make me vomit, so often when I was feeling sick I got into the habit of ignoring it. It only became a true problem when I began to struggle with eating. I was 10 years old, so I wasn't really aware of what an eating disorder was, but I can see why my mother acted the way she did. I'd had small moments of sickness from time to time when I was extremely young, but I had a PE teacher who stressed me out to the point of panic attacks. That was when I began waking up at 5am every morning to throw up.

This was a period of my life when my health became a serious concern to my family. My body clock adjusted to waking up at 5am, I would vomit and then refuse to eat breakfast due to lingering feelings of nausea. I would have lunch, and dinner, but I would be sick the next morning. Essentially, I was eating one meal a day whilst keeping up an active lifestyle of a 10 year old. It was no wonder that I rapidly dropped weight. Eventually, the boy who used to call me "porky" stopped and my mum took me out of school for a bit until the sickness subsided. I was hysterical at that point, so it took me a long time to recover. The photos of me at that age are nearly unrecognisable, and my mum always describes me as looking "gaunt". After that, I got a little bit scared of being sick, but it sadly wasn't the end of my troubles.

High School Days

As I grew older, the constant morning sicknesses ended. And yes, at 10 years old, my local GP did ask me if I was pregnant. I assure you, it was just anxiety. I have always been frequently bullied throughout my life. I don't think that's ever changed, even now. I used to get nervous about going to school for that particular reason, so I was always "sick" on a Monday. The vomiting would only happen on a Monday and then I'd be fine for the rest of the week. The problem had lessened, but it still persisted. Since I still hadn't heard of mental health, like anxiety or depression, I was still completely unaware of what was wrong with me. I thought I was defective, in all honesty.

Way back in 2012, I took a family trip to Cyprus. I was 13/14 at the time. The anxiety attack I experienced was worse than anything I'd felt before. I'm not even entirely sure why I was so stressed about this particular holiday. I'm well-travelled and I always have been. I've been frequently using planes since I was just under 1 year old. It was an early start, so maybe I'd had too little sleep. It was around 3am, I was ready to go, and then the sickness began. I was vomiting repeatedly from 3am to 10am. I couldn't even keep water down, so I was severely hydrated when we reached Cyprus. That's seven hours of non-stop vomiting. It was the first proper panic attack that I'd had, and I actually ended up hospitalised. I was on a drip machine over night just to hydrate me properly. It was one of the scariest moments of my life and it really spurred my fear of sickness, since I'd felt powerless and unable to escape the "unknown sickness".

One of the greatest issues I had with my school was the lack of education on mental health. We learnt nothing about anxiety and depression, so I had no idea that it was possible I had either of those things. In fact, I still didn't know anxiety existed even at the age of 18. Depression I was aware of, but I didn't think I had it. It was something distant that only happened to other people, which included my uncle. My lack of knowledge about my own mental health issues was probably why I was so unprepared for the worst panic attack of my entire life, even to this date.

On August 18th 2016, I received my A-Level results that would determine whether I would get into university or not. I had spent the past two years believing I was going to get an ABB (average total of 72%, which is a B). I had always been very average in school and I even had one teacher tell me I would never surpass the "glass roof". I had no expectations of myself, so when I got A*A*A (88% overall, an A), I guess my system went into shock. I remember crying because I was so in shock, but it also marked a new era for me. I was actually going to university and that realisation threw me into the worst attack. I was already stressed, but in my panic, I drank about a fifth of a bottle of vodka. Why did I do that? To this day, I honestly have no idea. It completely threw me off kilter and for a solid three weeks I was being continuously sick. I honestly have no recollection of what happened during that period of time. I was in a weird trance, and it was a very confusing time for me. Never before had I turned to alcohol, nor had I ever been faced with a life changing situation such as university. I had always been told it was the most exciting time of my life, and yet all I could do was dread university.

But it did get better. I reached out to my coursemates, and speaking with them made me feel leagues better. I suddenly felt like I could be hopeful about university and I managed to snap out of that strange, liminal feeling of being trapped in my own body. I switched off autopilot and finally began setting into place the details and arrangements I needed to prepare for my new flat and different living arrangements. I stopped being afraid of new things and started looking forwards to them and I simply pushed aside the anxiety and hopeless depression that had haunted me throughout September 2016.

On September 18th, I moved to my university flat.

2: First Year

Before I begin, I want to assure all of those who are about to embark on their university journey, that it wasn't a whole load of mope. I've made lifelong friends at uni, and the experiences I've been forced to endure me have shaped me as a person. I've learnt a lot about myself, but also a lot about how other people behave and how to deal with them. I'm glad I went to uni, even though I've been more miserable there than anywhere else in my life. It's been both a battle and a victory, no matter how many psychological bruises and literal scars I've brought back home with me.

Freshers' Week

When me and my friends were preparing for uni, we always used to speak fondly of Freshers. It was supposed to be an exciting week filled with clubbing and boys and freedom with alcohol and sex. I went to an all-girls school; we were quite desperate, which I hate to admit. I wanted to feel like that when we got there, I really did, but instead I felt sick. The age-old social anxiety flooded back to me.

I'm going to take a moment to talk about my First Year flatmates. A and D were some of the most wonderful people who helped me get through First Year. I went from an all-girls' school to suddenly hanging out with only boys and it was a big switch for me. That wasn't a problem, but sometimes I need a gal pal to vent to, and I was really without until November. There were two girls in halls with me, but neither seemed interested in hanging out with me, for reasons I honestly can't say. These were the four people I attended the first Freshers event with, and I made the mistake of hanging out with the two girls instead of A and D, who would've had my back. These two girls abandoned me. I was actually alone and had no idea where anyone was. This was on the first day of being at university. There was loud music, drunk people, heavy crowds, and no familiar faces. Naturally, I had a panic attack.

Sometimes, a drunk stranger can be the most helpful person in the world. I wish I could remember her name, but we stopped talking after First Year. It wasn't like we didn't like each other, but we just grew apart, as people tend to do at university. But this girl yelled at everyone to move so that she could get me out of the crowd. She'd never met me, but she knew I was having a panic atack, and she managed to get me out. She was sucked away into the crowd after that, and I didn't see her for a couple of weeks afterwards. Still, I was so grateful for her, because I went straight back to my flat for a good ol' cry. This day was also the day I met the person who would make my 2nd year a living nightmare, but I'll go into further detail about that when reflecting on how they treated me.

For me, Fresher's Week highlighted that I was afraid of alcohol. As someone who had always enjoyed a glass of wine, suddenly fearing drinking made me feel like I couldn't enjoy Freshers' Week. Honestly, it would take a year for me to become comfortable having alcohol again, which is something a lot of my real life and online friends might find hard to believe! I felt incredibly isolated, because it was when I realised that I was really different to everyone else. I made friends in that first week. I met one at a Friday evening badminton society I joined, and the other two were my flatmates, A and D. But it's hard to get close to people in the first week, so it would be a while before we all felt natural and comfortable with one another.

Friends

The most difficult part of uni for me was the first two months where I didn't have a solid friendship group. At first, I didn't have anyone to eat lunch with and I would have breakfast on the way to university in the morning. There was one boy I used to hang out with, E. He was a coursemate and a bit of a strange guy. He had some questionable views on controversial topics such as rape and women. To be honest, he wasn't that great a friend, often calling me "braindead" or "dropped on my head at birth" quite frequently. And did I tell him to stop? No, because he was my only friend. The nicest thing he ever told me was that I wasn't "that fat". He had some serious issue with social skills, so in some ways I thought of him as a kindred spirit. We stopped being friends in November 2016 because he was just really hateful to me for attending a party. He hated parties and looked down on other people who attended them.

I learnt that you can lose friends and still be OK. I wasn't that sad when me and E stopped talking, because I could finally surround myself with people who actually liked me. I built a greater friendship with my badminton friend, K, who continued to be a close buddy of mine for the rest of my uni days. She's honestly one of the brightest and most magnetic people I've ever met, and she wasn't afraid to take my under her wing. She was a year older than me since she'd taken a gap year, but it was so rewarding to be worthy of such a kind person's time. I actually felt comfortable for the first time in ages, but I couldn't always see K. We didn't know each other that well and she studied a different course to me, so our meet-ups beyond badminton were relatively sparse until around the start of December, 2016. There were still times in lectures when I was alone, and I had avoided going out clubbing, since it stressed me out.

There was a short period when I befriended my Second Year housemates, D2 and L. I mentioned before that I met an unpleasant person on the first day of Freshers. That was L, who had tried to pressure me into staying that night, despite me having a panic attack. Despite that, I sat with them in lectures and let myself be friends with them, just because I was alone. D2 was a bit of a wild girl, so there were a lot of times when she couldn't understand why I was so funny about clubbing every now and then. Still, D2 was a lovely person. I still message her now and she found out at the start of Second Year that she had a severe anxiety disorder. Things went by very quickly after that, with the three of us signing up for a house as early as November. With hindsight, that was a little quick, but I panicked. I was worried I'd end up alone, even though that may have worked in my favour in the end.

Things mostly changed when I made friends with H and S2. S2 was a girl who moved into my flats when another girl changed halls. She was such a lovely person, who loved to both have a night out but also have a cup of tea in front of a chickflick. At home, we practically did everything together, which included the numerous amounts of baking we did! H is someone I live nearby, even though we met at uni. She's one of my closest friends, and she was also the person who made me realise that I wasn't alone. We met up before a lecture and she had a panic attack and was sick in the bathroom. For most people, that might've been enough to decide not to hang out with someone again, but for me, I realised that this was someone who was going through the same shit that i did in Freshers week. I still didn't know what anxiety was until after Christmas, but H introduced me to my current friendship group. I could finally relax for a moment.

Depression and Anxiety

I was getting my friends. I was doing my studies. I had even learnt what anxiety was. And yet I also began to lie awake at 3am, plagued by these weird thoughts. They were derisive and rude, telling me to lower my self-value, to stop pretending that people liked me. I would stare at the ceiling and feel so terribly alone, which is when the desires to hurt myself began. It was small at first and I never acted on it in First Year, but they slowly began to morph into this pure self-loathing. I began to struggle to find any value in who I was. I didn't remotely like myself and it grew to the point where I felt the world was just better off without me. I would feel guilty whenever I cancelled plans with friends because of anxiety and, when I went out with D2 and L, the latter would always pressure me into kissing people on nights out, even when I didn't want to. I always did, though, because I'd had a few drinks and I didn't want to seem weird. She even made me give my number to a waiter, who told me when his shift would end. I left without him and cried, because I was scared that I was becoming someone who I wasn't. I reached a breaking point.

I planned my suicide in February 2017.

Was I truly unhappy? It's hard to say, but I felt this lonely emptiness in my chest that, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't push away. By day I would be fine, but at night, I couldn't ignore the onslaught of hatred that permeated my head. I don't want to go into detail. I don't want people to attempt to copy what I planned to do for so long, but I was standing in the shower, dressed all in black, sitting under the warm water, just ready to die. I don't know if it was fear that stopped me in my tracks, but I started crying because I realised just how little I valued myself. I had been seeing myself as a mess that needed to be cleaned away, like trash that was worthless. It was such a weird experience for me and it brought me back to earth for a while. I dried my clothes and went to bed and, when I woke up the next day, I pretended it had never happened. As far as I was concerned, depression didn't exist and I didn't need to seek professional help. I moved on, shut out the thoughts that continued each night and started to stay awake until 4am every night, just because I would be too exhausted to overthink. I convinced myself that I had overreacted, because that was what I was used to doing.

And after that, I believed I was fine. I joined AO3 and met some wonderful people. For the first time in ages, I was back in control.

3: The Second, and Worst, Year

This is where my tale begins to get a little more sad. It was also where D2 realised she had her own mental health problems to deal with. There were three of us living in the house, but after a tragic incident where she became pregnant and got an abortion, D2 left university and she didn't come back, so we agreed that if a deposit was taken at the end, me and L would cover D2's portion, as she only lived in the house for 2 weeks. It meant that me and L were living in the house, just us two, and the house was awful...

The Worst House

We had damp, we had mold, we had mites and we had rats. You name it. Our landlord didn't care and wanted the cheapest fix to all of our problems. Moreover, I was the one who was being left to deal with all of the correspondence. D2 had moved out, and L did nothing. She expected me to handle all of the e-mails just to make the house habitable. It caused me so much unnecessary stress alongside my studies. I never blamed her, and I never asked if she could do a bit more. I was too awkward and it really messed me up. I would complain about how annoying the situation was and she would brush it off. I was really alone in that situation and I never really managed to get the landlord to listen to my complaints.

The Worst Housemate

And then me and L had a conversation in October 2017 that really should've opened my eyes to her true nature. I was too stressed to go out clubbing once, so I just told her about my anxiety. I told her all of the personal things I had been going through, and she shared her experiences with me. She told me about her bad depression and anxiety, how she had been close to suicide back in high school, and my heart really went out to her. What she was talking about sounded so close to my February 2017 experience, so I once more deceived myself into thinking I had discovered a kindred spirit. I told L about February, of the emptiness and my plans to die.

She told me I didn't have depression, so I agreed with her.

I wouldn't really think about that until a month later, when H and my other friends convinced me to see a GP about my anxiety. I was struggling sleeping, with an increased heart rate and constant trembles. I was still susceptible to vomiting on the rare occasion. As I had never spoken to the GP about mental health before, this was a new experience for me. He asked me routine questions about my anxiety, and asked if I had depression. I said no. He asked if I had attempted or even contemplated suicide. A little thrown, I say yes. He put my on anti-depressants and told me I had both anxiety and depression. I went home and cried and, when I told L what had happened, she still told me that I didn't have depression, and that I wouldn't have to be on the medication forever. I am still on the medication as of July 2019. I do hope to eventually come off and replace it with CBT, but back in 2017, it was weird to be conflicted about whether or not I had depression. As for my other friends, they only expressed relief that I was taking steps to improve my mental health.

At the time, I never felt any animosity towards L, despite how she had treated me. She even called me homophobic when I wouldn't kiss her at a Halloween party. Instead, I continued to listen to her, even when she convinced me to move the TV into my bedroom, which was the warmest room in my house. It was a loft conversion so had a bit more space, whence I thought it was a 'good idea'. We always watched TV together. It wasn't a problem.

Until it was. I came back after Christmas and she suddenly showed her true colours. I don't believe someone can suddenly become a bitch. Not unless something really bad happened over Christmas, which I don't believe did. I used to dance whilst I cooked. I found cooking a very boring process, so I needed to distract myself with movement. This had never bothered any of my friends before, but apparently L didn't like me doing it. She would roll her eyes at me and treat me like I was dumb. I became self-conscious and stopped. She began to judge my family. She would press me for their careers. At the time, my mum wasn't working, but took full-time care of my grandma, who had terminal cancer, and my uncle, who has learning difficulties. L's response? "Yeah, but what does she even do?" As for my father, who works in the oil industry, she would repeatedly ask for his career, only to sigh and tell me he was killing the planet whenever I did. God forbid if I ever spoke about my sister with her. She would spend the whole day with me and then ask me about my day. I'd tell her the briefs, but she wanted every detail, and then she would tell me about her eventless day. Every day.

She then began to control my friendships. For university, we were required to plan a study tour trip in April. Myself, L, H, H2, and S were in the same group. When L met H2, she told me she didn't like her and that it was probably a bad idea for them to be near each other for too long. I told her that H2 was fine and that she was just a little shy around people she knew less. H2 is a lovely person who is massively supportive of all of us. I couldn't understand why L disliked her. Little did I know, it was because H2 knew how to stand up for herself, and didn't let L talk her into doing things she didn't like doing. I would hang out with K on a weekend, and L would tell me that I wasn't spending enough time with her. She would sigh and say "Again? You're leaving me alone again?" I always felt guilty. Sometimes I even cancelled my plans because I genuinely thought she was upset. Other times, I told her she saw me over all the weekdays. The pestering never stopped. Sometimes, I would come home and she'd be napping in front of the TV that was in still in my room. I was tired after a uni day and just wanted to sit and work in peace and even told her to nap in her room. She would tell me she had finished napping by then. I stopped enjoying things. I began to spiral once more, back to that February emptiness.

The Worst Depression

February 2018. A whole year from my contemplation of suicide and I was in the bathroom at at 2am crying to H because I couldn't stop the bleeding from the cuts. I was a bit panicked, and H thought the worst until she could console me to understand what I was trying to say over the phone. The bleeding stopped. I was fine. I never told L that I did this and it was cold, so long sleeves and blankets covered the marks away. I still have a scar from that, though.

I stopped writing. I couldn't get into the words that had saved me through high school. My creativity was drained from the constant exhaustion of being miserable. Eventually, H and K told me to just confront L. It was the week after half term, so I thought now was a good time. I messaged and she actually left a pub quiz, although I tried to tell her not to. I still didn't want to ruin her night, but she came home immediately. I talked it through, telling her how she had been making me feel. I relayed a few others things that she had done to make the others a little uncomfortable, and I really felt like she was listening. I'd been nervous about this to begin with, since I hate confronting my friends, but my confidence was that she was listening, or so I thought. After the whole story had been completed, she told me:

"OK. I'm sorry. I'm going to go to my room and cry now."

I tried to tell her that I hadn't meant to be mean. She told me that it had made her depression worse, and she left it at that. Boy, did I feel like utter shit. I told myself that I had been too harsh but, when I relayed to H what had happened, she told me that L was in the wrong. How was I supposed to tell myself that I had handled the situation as maturely as possible when that had been the reaction I had received? For the next week, I felt like I was stepping on glass. Things were a little stilted between us, but she had stopped acting the way she had. And then the week ended and she went back to criticising me, belittling my every action. I was thrown back into that pit of self-consciousness, so I started taking more time away from her. The criticisms that I wasn't spending enough time with her continued. It was a horrible loop and I couldn't escape, no matter how hard I tried. If she went on a night out, she would come into my room, even if I was asleep, to tell me about it. I went from having a tiny amount of personal space to absolutely none.

I began going to the city centre more often. I needed retail therapy or just to be away from the house at this point, because my stress levels had shot through the roof. My grandma was getting progressively sicker, I was struggling with work pressure because L wouldn't leave me alone, and I just wanted to be alone constantly because of that. I would avoid hanging out with other people, because solitude was the only thing I could turn to. All the while, those intrusive 3am thoughts were returning with full gusto. I couldn't shut them out, but keeping busy helped me ignore them. I was constantly tired, so one day just let myself have my hair curled. It was for our Degree Ball, and I shared it to my group chat. The others were wonderful, but L just said "It's different."

It seems so trivial to break after that, but I just went off the rails. As soon as I got home, I moved the TV into the lounge. I took everything out of my room and just dumped it back where it had once more. I was so tired of being treated like I was less than human. It had taken such a negative toll on my mental health. I was finished. I sat in my TVless room and finally felt a stab of relief. L messaged if there was something wrong and if we could talk. Let her talk, I thought. It was about time. I was quite blunt in the following conversation. I had tried being nice, I had tried being civil. I had been repeatedly shat on and I was done with it.

L: Are you mad at me?

XOs: Yes.

L: What happened?

XOs: The fact that you don't know makes it even worse.

L: Was it about your hair?

(So, she did know!)

XOs: I guess.

L: Oh, I'm sorry.

XOs: OK.

She then hesitated, because I wasn't suddenly gushing to be her friend.

L: OK. See you.

XOs: Bye.

And then she left and we didn't speak one on one again. My self-harming didn't stop.

The Worst Holiday

But then we had our Study Tour. At this point, H and H2 were too mad at L for making me feel like crap, so weren't exactly pleased about spending 2 weeks with her. Still, they're both civil people, so didn't want to make it awkward and treated her just like the rest of us. It didn't help that she told us she was only bringing hand luggage, only to then bring a suitcase that she put into storage using the extra space we'd paid for. She didn't contribute to that. She spent the rest of the holiday treating the Greeks like idiots, talking incredibly slow English to them, despite knowing some Greek. Everyone she spoke like that too had previously been speaking fluent English to us. It was embarrassing. S was the only one giving her the benefit of the doubt, even though L belittled her depression by insisting none of us had been ill, despite S staying in her room for a solid day. The same day afterwards, L accused us of triggering her depression when we'd make self-deprecating jokes to one another. She would constantly rush us through museums and made a show of being impatient when we didn't. She treated it like a holiday, wanting to go clubbing or to the beach every day, which pissed us off since this was a grade we were working for.

We had a group meeting about it halfway through, where she accused us of not including her in planning, despite H2 having made an itinerary that she had sent to all of us, as well as all of us discussing the agenda each night before, when L would go to bed at 7. She complained that she didn't have enough independence, a contradiction to her previous point. We said we didn't mind her having independence at each of the sites, but that she wasn't allowed to go to places alone, since that was the rule our lecturers had given us. Things should've improved after the meeting, but they didn't. L ignored us and began leaving the house without us, breaking the study tour rules. We just e-mailed our lecturers to explain that we didn't want to be held accountable if anything happened to her, explaining that we'd already had a meeting. When our lecturer e-mailed L to tell her to take some consideration, she had a go at H, and then ignored our lecturer. S was getting stressed, so we were trying our best to be civil, but it meant I had to bottle up my irritation. I put my foot down when she tried to lead us through a bog, despite S trying to tell her how nervous she was getting. She sulked the entire way home after the bog incident, and I didn't talk to her for the rest of the study tour. 

She avoided me at home after that, going home every weekend. It was the most freedom I'd had in ages.

The Worst End

When I got home from study tour, however, my grandma was hospitalised and very sickly. She had reached a point where she was too dehydrated and delirious to know who I was, believing that it was thirty years ago and that I was my mum's best friend. It was really painful, seeing my grandma, who had been such a strong woman, suddenly appear so frail before me. I had to go back to university at the end of April, but I would see grandma whenever possible before that. Some part of me knew I would never see my grandma again, though, so when I got home, I slipped into a weird state of depression. I sat in bed for a whole week, staring at the wall. I would drink tea for breakfast and have toast for dinner. I had no motivation to live, or study, or do anything. I had to delay my study tour essay because my life was gradually crumbling around me, and it culminated on the 15th June, 2018. I got a phone call from mum. My grandma was dead.

I wanted to mourn more than I was given the time to. Instead, I had to study for exams. I felt like utter crap the whole time, and I couldn't even stay long for my grandma's funeral on the 29th, because I had an exam on the 1st June. I was back and forth between home and university, struggling to accept that my grandma was no longer with me. I kept her stuffed, plushie Bagpuss. I still have it. I still miss her, even though it's been over a year. The pain is gone, but I have moments where I remember how she is not alive anymore. My stress wasn't even over, though. The landlord charged us for a deposit despite how we attempted to clean it, although L barely did anything, and then L refused to pay half of D2's deposit. I was too tired to care at that point, because I was more focused on my grandma's recent death, and I was realising that I was dealing with a childish person who only cared about money.

I didn't enjoy that summer. It was a shame. I tried to get back into writing, and it felt positive for a short burst. But it wouldn't last long.

4: The Final Push

Before I begin on this final chapter, I want to address the living situations. I was still going to be living with L. We had already signed for a house before we had fallen out, otherwise I would've dropped out and found somewhere else to live. I thought it would be OK this time, though, because there was 6 of us in the house in total. I was living with S and her housemate, G. There was also L2, who was G's coursemate, and A2, who I went to high school with. Since S was close to G, who was close to L2, and I was close to A2, it felt like there wouldn't be a need for arguments. I didn't tell them anything about what L had done, because that wouldn't have been fair. I've always believed it's not nice to influence other people's opinions of others, and I was so tired of drama that I was happy to be civil. When we were in a group, I could be civil, and if it was just us two in the room, we didn't talk. I was fine with that arrangement. My welfare tutor had already told me to keep a distance, because it was better for my mental health. It was just better that way. We watch TV together in the evening, or films. We'd make group meals, and play board games. It was all good and fine, pretending that Second Year hadn't happened, and it was the first time I felt like a house was going to go smoothly.

You already know it won't though, because the previous paragraph started with "Before I begin". I won't put this in chronological order, because a lot of events overlap.

The Passive Aggressiveness

L2 and S both have severe depression. There are going to be days when they don't have the energy to clean up immediately, and sometimes that can be a couple of days. S later hoarded things in her room, because she grew sick of the onslaught of passive aggressive comments that were put indirectly in the group chat. I named myself XOs because of the hugs and kisses my grandma would always write in her cards to me. It's not passive aggressive, until you write "xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo" at the end of a message. When that's been hurtled right towards you at least twice a week, it can get really tiring. That began in November, because apparently, you can't go a month without being a bitch. The most disappointing part was that it was A2 who started it. G and L latched onto that and the trio formed a little bitch gang where they could act like children together. There were even times when they would be passive aggressive on the group chat, only for them to realise it was each other. Their tunes quickly changed to sickly sweet, it was honestly pathetic to watch.

They would also use the TV as a passive aggressive act. They'd listen to it so loud, almost on full volume. If I told them to turn it down, they would, only to turn it straight back up. If we were watching TV a little past 10pm, they would make a show of acting as if we were being too noisy. We always kept the volume low, with subtitles on. If we were watching the TV, they would sit at the kitchen table and chat at extremely loud volumes. We often just ignored them, but towards the end of the year, when I'd ask them to stop, they'd just argue that we made loud noises past midnight. I can only account for two days when we did, both of which were Saturdays. Moreover, we apologised at the time. It got to the point where their arguments were too childish for me to argue against. L2 moved out in March and continued her course at home, rather than in university, and S stopped eating dinner until 2am, because she was too nervous to cook with them in the room. I stopped eating dinner if I knew they were downstairs. I didn't have the energy to be deafened by their loud TV.

Hypocrisy

I've just talked about how they would always make a point of us being messy. G and L have absolutely not stand to say that. G is neat with her own things, not the communal areas. She will constantly complain about the shower drains, yet never clean them herself. It was always her hair I'd end up pulling out of the drains. Moreover, she would wear her outdoor sandals in the shower because it was apparently too dirty. It was a lot dirtier when she was using the shower, but after she left for home, it was considerably cleaner... As for L, she also left plates out for a day or more, yet because she was friends with the other two, nothing was directed towards her. It was purely hypocritical.

The worst part was when L trashed the house. She told us that 5 of her friends would be coming over, only to then have a full on house party of 18 and more. The house was wrecked for weeks, despite us telling her to clean up. She had brought them upstairs, despite us telling her not to. L broke every one of our rules, even as far back as November, when unity hadn't completely broken down. A2 was furious, but G bent over so quickly it was almost like she was eager. After that, L and G would always complain about how dirty the floor was, even though L was the one who had gotten it that filthy. Despite how many times me and S tried to clean it, it never worked. We were very lucky to get our deposits back.

Rudeness

It's difficult to deal with rude people, especially when it becomes evident they can't be reasoned with. A difficult part of living in my house this year was watching G completely abandon S, despite having lived with her for 2 years already. S got really depressed at suddenly being tossed aside, and it really didn't help her self-esteem either. L2 would also be ignored if she was in the same room as them, treated as if she didn't exist. It really took a bad impact on her mental health, whence she went home. As for me, my friendship with A2 apparently meant L and G couldn't be complete arseholes to me as long as she was in the room. A2 has always been pleasant to me, still talking to me, even though I know how horrible she can be to S and L2. It was really awkward, especially since I could see L was treating G in the exactly same manner she had treated me in Second Year. It was a cycle that I'm glad to be rid of.

It was this unpleasantness that finally gave me leave to unfriend and block L on all of my social media. She tried to add me back, but I declined. G did exactly the same when I repeated this process a week later. It made me feel so much better to have removed them permanent from my life. As for A2, I haven't talked to her since term ended at the start of June. We have mutual friends, so I'm letting her make the call on whether we stay online friends or not. It's a chapter of my life that I'm more than happy to learn from, and then tuck away.

5: Support

The one thing I gained from these terrible experiences was finding true friends. I have made contacts who I genuinely care about, people I wish to keep in touch with and have plans with over summer. As for those I care less about, I have rid myself of them. I've learnt that I don't need to attach myself to people who treat me like garbage for the sake of being civil. Part of being an adult is knowing when to give up and let go, which is something I've almost finished learning. By shrugging off the worst people, I can spend more time with the best people.

K

Since I've known K since First Year, as well as her being separate from my course or house, we've always had this brilliant bond of being outside one another's closest circles. However, we've always been so close, bonding extremely quickly. She had a tough Third Year as well, but she seemed so happy when I saw her after exams, and I still want to visit her properly in Kent! We can always talk for hours, just listening to music as we chat and chat and chat, so time with K has always been relaxing for me. I honestly feel like I poured so many of my problems at her, yet she would comfort me each time and just make sure I was OK. For that, I'm grateful, and I wish I could express it tenfold.

H2 and Z

I haven't mentioned Z as of yet, but he's another friend of mine who has been extremely supportive across the years. As has H2, who welcomed me to her house should I need to get away from the chaotic living arrangements I had during Second and Third years. I appreciate them both so much, even though they won't see this blog post.

S and L2

There's an irreplaceable bond with these two. We've been through the same shit, so we can share our experiences dealt with A2, L and G. I will always treasure being able to have comforting talks with either of these two, and to also be able to share our battle wounds. I wouldn't have made it through Third Year had it not been for these two and, even though I only befriended L2 in this year, my friendship with her is stronger than with some others I've known since high school.

A, D and S2

My housemates from First Year really helped me pull through. I was tempted to leave before I befriended them. I used to cross off the days on the calendar, but stopped on October 29th, a full month and 11 days of uni. When you're thrown together as Freshers, it can be a little awkward, but these three really made it worth being through the hardships I did. I'll always be thankful for them for that, even if S2 changed university and I don't see A or D like I used to.

H

H has always been there for me when I needed her most, and I've always tried to be supportive of her when she's needed me. When L trashed the house, H let me stay with her for the night so I could have somewhere clean to shower. When I cut too deep, H stayed on the phone with me, even asking if she needed to come round until she was sure I was OK. I don't know how I would've gotten through uni without H, who has been a constant pillar of support for me. I always try to let her know how grateful I am, but I don't think I can express enough gratitude to replicate all the wonderful things she's done for me.

C

I haven't mentioned C as of yet, but if he reads this, he'll know who he is. I just want to thank you again, C. You sent me a message back in October 2018 that brings me down to Earth whenever I get into those lowest moods. It strikes me every time I think about it, and I strongly believe that recalling what you told me saved my life back in December 3rd, 2018. I never told you this, but I was going to use my anti-depressants to end it. I had 56, since I had recently been on two months dosage. I was sat on the bathroom floor and nobody would've noticed until ages, since they were preparing a house Christmas dinner downstairs. I sat there and I remembered what you had told me, and I flushed those horrible thoughts away. I haven't been close to suicide since, and it's even been just over a month since I last self-harmed. I honestly can't express the amount of gratitude I have for you. All I can say is that you have my full support. Whenever you need me, I can be there, because you made me realise just how valuable my life is.

6: The Future

I've started writing again, and I'm also working on my dissertation. On August 18th, I'll be finished with university forever and I can finally leave that chapter behind. It's an exciting time for me, but it's also full of promise. I have friends and family who love me, who will be there for me when I am at my lowest points. 

I went to university filled with self-loathing. I left it with a realisation that I am not nothing.

This is my story, but maybe it might be someone else's. Feel free to share this. There could be a mutual you know who may see it, and find some meaning in my words. 

You are not alone, even when you feel your loneliest.