A Resolution

I resolve to keep a blog once more. For at least a year.

I resolve this because it is the best thing for my mental health. When i am able to document things, tow rite them down, to express myself coherently, verbally, to no one but the space in which this blog inhabits, which, if we are to be pedantic, is not actually a tangible space at all, but when i am able to do this, it is like pouring all the stress away into somewhere. And it's not completely illogical because when i do this i am able to resolve problems, i am able to rationalise the irrational, to absorb and accept the reality of the situation.

I stopped blogging for a while because of numerous reasons. I couldn't get back into it because i was scared of the one thing blogging forces you to acknowledge; reality. It terrified me. And you can not sit and lie to yourself, so i simply ignored it. I didn't blog. I didn't write, i didn't express myself, i didn't do anything. I just got very, very drunk. A lot. Not in an antisocial kind of way, in an inappropriate but oh so easily done kind of way. In a "i had slightly too much fun" kind of way.

When i describe semester 1, the first semester i've spent at university, two phrases come to mind. The first; "i spent half in the library, and the other half wasted" is completely and wholly true. All the memories i have of semester 1 are either pissed, stoned or hung over. The only times when i know i was truly sober are in PBL sessions and whilst on early experience. And that was a maximum of 5 hours a week. The second; it was hideously beautiful. And it truly was. Absolutely hideous. Disgusting, awful, crass and even gut wrenching at times but totally and utterly beautiful in the way only the truth can be. I mean an absolute kind of truth, the truth you only get when you touch reality at its core, when you touch others.

The moment which probably epitomises semester one for me is this.

R and i had just gotten off the bus [the cheap student bus] and were walking to our Halls. I was on probably the worst come down from any kind of substance in my life, although i didn't realise it. The previous night i'd taken ketamine for the first time, two small lines, but i was smoking also so the high was extremely distorted and very strange..as though my thoughts were surrounded by water and had pressure resisting them. R had said an hour or so before, "Don't you take ketamine" and i took it. In hindsight i should have listened.

The comedown, which was half drug induced and half emotional turmoil, felt like i had emotional ADHD and i couldn't decide whether to be content or cry and the reasons as to why. So we stepped off the bus, and i thought of K and the promise she's made to me, then i thought of the former-GF. I tried to remember her phone number but i couldn't. I started crying; full blown tears and sobs so strong i couldn't see where i was walking. Just before i fell R put his arm around me and half carried me to our Halls.

I love him.

Hideous beauty.