Time, essays, lockdown, loneliness, illness, exhaustion

It is probably a mistake to think that starting a blog in the second year of a post-graduate diploma was a good idea. That I would somehow have time to write for fun in the middle of the stress and pressure of having to write essays and survive everything else that was going on in the world. I wonder how much anyone is ever really going to know the far-reaching impact of the pandemic. That there are hundreds of thousands of students, who should be with others in lecture theatres, sat at home staring at computer screens. And we are all somehow pretending that this is ok because that is what everyone is having to do. But, being a student is hard, and being a student, stuck in your own room, without the fun side, is harder.

So, for me, classes have now finished. I can’t say I’m not happy because I am. I’m so glad it is over. But I’m angry as well, because of all that has been missed and lost. I needed the contact more than anything, but lost it. And was just meant to get on with it, and my brain could never quite get there. And it got me wondering, whether this was really all so bad just because of that, or whether I would have struggled in any situation anyway. The pandemic was a nice excuse, but really, I think it has always been so much more than that. I don’t think I would have ever really been ok. I think my insecurities creep in and take over, and on screen just meant that I was stuck in my room, on my own with them, and they were there, screaming louder than ever. I also won’t feel like anything is real in terms of finishing until I know I have passed everything.

And this is where the insecurity gets to run riot on its own. Because I don’t think I have passed everything, because I don’t believe I should. And I am constantly guessing and second guessing myself. I handed in an essay that I wasn’t happy with. Did I do so because I think it would fail to prove to myself that I’m not good enough? Or did I do so because it keeps me as a student and not quite qualified. Because if I am somehow qualified then that says someone might think I am good enough and I can’t believe that. Or maybe a part of my brain that does think I can do this did make that essay just good enough to pass and see me through, but I’m not sure that part of my brain is strong enough. And so the battle goes on and on, and will so, until results day.

The battles and noise inside my head, the fact that it’s there all the time and if it’s not one thing it’s another, means I’m exhausted. All the time. I try to just keep pushing through it, because I think and hope one day that the battles won’t be so noisy and that it will feel better than it does at the moment. And, in one way, I know that one day it will be better than this. Because this is better than things were a while ago. And I know I am not alone in wanting things done now and not wanting to have patience and sit through the journey. And sometimes, that is the exhaustion. Just a little cry of, “please let this be finished now”, because I’m not sure I have the energy to keep on going. And then someone coughs or sneezes within 100 metres of me and suddenly I’m knocked out with a virus (not the virus), far more so than I ever should be. But my body has nothing left to fight anything off. But, then there is something in being knocked out that brings rest, and a little more energy to keep on fighting everything else.

There is also something to be said in this, in the intense loneliness that creeps in and is overwhelming. That the isolation of working from home, having classes online, having the world made very small, means I’m stuck with my head far too much. The noise, the way things hurt so much of the time, the insecurity, all just tells me that I should be alone and not with anyone. And yet I have a childish need to be with others. But, life like this means that other people are also just surviving and it’s hard to get by, so it’s hard to meet the needs of a needy person. And I find myself wishing there were people around me that could see how much I need time, but also that I don’t believe I am worth their time so I can’t ask for it. So, the loneliness remains, and I don’t know where to take it. But, there will be a way through this, I just haven’t quite managed to find it yet, and I’m not able to see it. But it will be there.