Guess I broke the resolution to write more.
Since posting three months ago, there’s been quite a few changes in my life, and I’ve found out a lot about myself. I was accepted into Newcastle University in August, and spent the rest of that month and half of September preparing for that. When I got there, I felt amazing. After all, I’ve always wanted to go to university, and I was so excited to be on my own. As you may guess by the title of this post, things didn’t quite go to plan.
I still can’t fully explain to people what happened. After the initial period of newness, I wanted to go home, but that place was my home. It was bizarre, and I didn’t want to be there. Everything had changed. Not only had I moved out, I’d moved into a flat with nine strangers in a completely different city with no familiarity to my own life. The only times I felt truly happy there were when I got to FaceTime my mum or my friends from home, which shouldn’t be the case. The thing is, I wasn’t just homesick – I was in too deep.
Everything had changed, and I did not adapt at all. I got really ill one day from the stress I’d put on myself, texted my mum at 4 in the morning asking if I could come home for a few days, and then when I got home, I only returned to Newcastle to get my belongings. My time at home made me realise how much I did not want to move away. I wasn’t ready yet. I felt like I’d pushed myself into it, and it had backfired in my face. I sobbed on my mum for an hour, researched dropping out and transferring, and finally decided I would be much happier if I transferred to a university in my hometown.
As soon as everything started getting sorted, the stress I’d put myself under lifted. I was no longer ill, I was much happier, and I realised this was the decision for me. However, I didn’t realise how much of a failure I would feel like for moving back home when everyone else was in accommodation. Even now, I get the thought of “if they can do it, why can’t I?” every single day. I’m jealous of people who have managed to move out, and it makes me feel like I’ve somehow failed in life. Isn’t part of the uni experience living in halls?
Every time someone asks me what accommodation I’m in, I tell them I live at home and wait for the reaction. I live in fear of someone telling me how ridiculous I am for not being able to move out. Not one person has done that though. Everyone I’ve met has been absolutely fine with me living at home. I’ve since realised that it’s only me that thinks I’m a failure for living at home. That’s something I’m having to work on.
I know this is the best option for me, and I know it was right for me to move home, but that doesn’t stop me viewing myself in such a negative light. The worst part is, if someone else told me they were living at home, I wouldn’t care. So I guess seeing myself as a failure stems from the overly self-critical part of me. That’s the thing I need to really focus on.
Anyway, this post has been long enough already, but I just thought I’d share this to show what my current feelings are at this moment in time. I’m hoping to stick to a more regular schedule with these posts, especially since Megs is constantly demanding more from this blog (here’s to my number one reader!). Hopefully, I’ll be seeing you soon.
Always, Drew xxx