Tag Archives: depression

But instead I’m crocheting granny squares. I think it might be because I’m tired and I can crochet while half asleep, whereas I prefer to be vaguely aware when I write.

I probably won’t get any writing done until next week now. The reason for this deplorable state of affairs is that I’m doing a little over time, to cover a full-time member of the tech department’s holiday. I usually only work weekends so working nine days out of ten is killing me. I’ve had today off, but spent all afternoon at college, so now I’m exhausted again. Basically, I’ll finally be able to get back to my scribbling on Monday, after college. I probably won’t want to look at a computer at that point.

When did I get so busy?

I only work part-time; that should leave plenty of time for reading, writing and staring longingly at books, CD’s and gig tickets I can’t afford right now, but I don’t seem to have much free time.

To be fair though, working part-time has been good for me. I’ve been able to earn a little bit of money while still having enough time to get a couple more qualifications and spend time reading, reviewing and other writing. I still need my medication just to cope with work, and I need to sleep a lot of the time (so nothing new there), but I’m managing a little better. It helps that I’ve moved departments at work as well. I’m marginally less bored, my hours are pretty much guaranteed and the people I work with are nice. They think I’m weird, but at least they’re happy to tolerate me finding a quiet corner to write in when I get really bored. Also, the manager signed my holiday forms so I have a couple of weekends off in October. I’m going to see Reckless Love, who’s new album is out at the end of August (it’s on my to buy list already) , and HIM, who I may have mentioned on a couple of occasions.

On the subject of gigs I’m planning to go to later in the year, I plan to go to see Alter Bridge in mid-October and 30 Seconds to Mars in late November. There is also a possible plan to go to Amsterdam in early November in the works as well. Depends on flight, trains and hostels, total cost and whether it’s manageable. While there I may go to see 30 Seconds to Mars, as a few of my friends/acquaintances will be going.

I’ve never been abroad before, which is a shocking thing for anyone my age to say, or so it would appear, from people’s reactions.

I’ve been thirty for nine days now, and I actually feel quite good about it. I had all sorts of plans when I was younger; none of them involved being at home still, and working a low paid part-time, if semi-professional, job because I live in a back water and am psychologically incapable of full-time work at the moment.

The pressure is off; I failed to live up to the expectations I and everyone else had of me. I’m out of my twenties and now my life is probably set. I’m never going to be a great scientist, or even a half-way decent academic, because I made a complete hash if it all. So instead I’ll do what I wanted to do before I got talked into choosing a ‘sensible’ career, a choice I regret making. I like playing in labs, really I do, and studying at Durham was brilliant, but I really would have been happier if I hadn’t felt pressured to give up hiding in libraries with my head in a book or scribbling stories.

So, feeling like a failure because I hadn’t lived up to expectation I went off to Download to celebrate my birthday, and do you know what? I had a complete change of heart. As we were packing away the tent it struck me; that part of my life is over. I don’t have to live in the shadow of ‘might have been, should have been’ any more. I accept that failure, and now I’m going to make a successful life for myself without that shadow hovering over me. Yes, I’m broke, and I live at home still, but so what? I get to read books, listen to music, watch films and plays, and go to gigs or do other bits of travelling, and write about it. I accept that right now all I earn is a few free books, but free books are free books! I’ll work on that, give me time to build my confidence and a scrapbook of writing, and maybe I’ll get some paid writing work. It’s cool if I don’t, because I like writing and I wont stop, but it would be great if I could earn a little cash from it.

Until then, I’ll keep working at the factory and dreaming.

And that blog post was way longer, more emotional and honest than I get in public, and actually covered thoughts I hadn’t planned to share with the world. See this is what happens when I’m tired; I can’t control what gets written down. My brain to fingers filter goes away (my brain to gob filter is non-existent anyway). I think I should probably stop rambling now, make my sandwich for my packing-up for work tomorrow and go to bed.