A few weeks ago I decided to hide most of the posts I’ve written on this blog since I started. It had been some years, and the recent years I have not been blogging very frequently or written much substantial.
When I hid all the post, I did this to start over. I wanted a blank blog but without making a new one. Because I have tried that, I have started several blogs only to watch me wither and them die. So I am trying again here, without making any promises to what the content will be or how often I will post.
If I had an interesting life I would blog about it. Sadly, I’m as mundane as everyone else. I will not put up posts about how I do laundry or how often I burn incense. Maybe I could put up a post about how messy my room is, how fat being a student makes me or how poorly I clean my room these days, just to get the gritty reality out in the bloggiverse.
Though I think it might be time for me to update the world on my whereabouts, if only to make myself have a realization about reality. Writing often make me think.
Currently I am still a student at Kingston University. I have changed my BA from a joint degree in Creative Writing and history to a Major in Creative Writing. In my newest history module I have found a new interest in human rights and war crimes (I study genocide and crimes against humanity). I have lost my will to write, I don’t want to write anything anymore, but I struggle to finish my degree so I can apply for a MA in Publishing or a MA in human rights. For the time being I work at McDonald’s, and I find it rather enjoyable.
Also I have worked at a student ambassador, I’m a student rep, and I work on a bee documentary by KUSU. Who’s blog you can find here.
So for the hard parts, what have I been doing the last couple of years? I have lived in San Francisco for a year, it was a blast and very sad at the same time. I met great people, and I met not so great people. Life happened, I got out of my bubble for a while. But the higher you fly the harder the fall, the anniversary for my suicide attempt is coming up and I consider to take that date as my birthday, because I see surviving that kind of darkness as a much bigger accomplishment than being born.
I did not realize it back then, how depressed I was or how long I’ve been depressed. It was like a new start too, and I denied how much it affected me. It was not until the summer that the post-suicide exhaustion hit me and I wasn’t able to do anything. I still struggle to get up in the morning, even with antidepressants doing anything is always hard.
But I’m managing. I manage to get out for work, and that is a start. I manage to meet up for lectures and some seminars, that a step. And I figure that this is one of the things I will blog about from now on: living with depression. Ideally I would also like to write book reviews and maybe some articles, but right now that feels like a lot of work.