So, those were my 20s.

Tomorrow is my thirtieth birthday.

That is absolutely ridiculous. There is no way I should be thirty. Thirty implies so much, and I’m just a slightly more capable version of my teenage self. Maybe your twenties are more of a state of mind?

I don’t think anyone likes having regrets, and I certainly never wanted any. Are there things I’d do differently since I graduated high school? Oh yeah. But I think that most of it, I’d try to keep the same. I’m about to graduate from a degree I enjoyed 90% of. I’ve made some wonderful friends (oh boy, was I due!) I’m still a mental health disaster, but that can be worked on.

I hate the way I stress over my birthday – over incomplete goals, or the idea that something is less than perfect, when a birthday shouldn’t be stressful. I suppose I stress over everything though – anything that can be considered a ‘deadline’, and I freak out.

So how did I spend the last day of my twenties? Cleaning my apartment  :yum: It’s a mental thing, having a perfectly tidy and clean apartment on my birthday. The gift I give myself. I have no idea how I managed to wrangle it, but it took 6 hours, and it’s so tidy!

Tomorrow, I’m spending the day with my sister – mini-golf and then to the movies to finally see the new Thor film. Oh, and I’m dragging her to see ‘Christmas land’ in both Myer and David Jones, because I love Christmas decorating.

It’s going to be a good day. And whilst my twenties weren’t the laugh-riot I hoped for, or anything resembling anyone elses’, they were mine, and that thought is actually kind of comforting.

“I decided to go join the birds. I eat lots of bread already and I’m tired of fighting.”

Back to real life tomorrow, ho hum. I came home to my mother’s house to do some pet-sitting, and attend my uncle’s birthday lunch, and now that’s all done, I’m headed back to Sydney.

It’s going to be one of those very long weeks – class on Tuesday from ten til noon, then again at five til seven, plus lunch with friends, and a coffee-date with another friend. Then on Wednesday, a haircut on the other side of the city finally (I’m beginning to look like some kind of fluffy marsupial; I love my fringe, but gosh it takes a lot more upkeep than layers), and a class from one til two. Thursday is my day off, but I have a paper due next Monday, plus half a ton of work on my honors project that it’s more like a study-day. Friday, my mother is coming down for the day; Saturday, I’m headed to a knitting workshop, and Sunday I have to finish my paper. It’s an exciting life, that’s for sure ;)

I know I just finished my summer break, but I wish I could rewind time, just live in a happy bubble, where I could write and swim and draw and read. I don’t feel like functioning yet. Though behaving like a functioning adult isn’t something that I feel like doing much of the time. I kind of have a level of functionality that works for me, but isn’t really sustainable for earning a living or socialising, sadly. But I made a promise last year, that I would put myself out there, would try some new stuff. And it worked! I definitely got out of my comfort zone; same verse this year, definitely.

And now I have to go and somehow cram all my things into a single suitcase and backpack.  :kiss:

Your authority isn’t recognized in Fort Kickass.

I have anxiety and depression; and when I have bad periods, time seems to disintegrate. :crazy: I can spend weeks doing little more than reading and basic functionally. The weird thing is that I don’t actually notice I’m doing it; it takes me weeks to realise it and everyone around me is ‘…duh.’ -_-

So, my uni break consisted of watching Archer (definitely been added to my favourites list), doing a little fic writing, and generally over-thinking my entire life. So, not exactly the relaxing break I was hoping for. Now I’m back at uni, and I’m trying to piece myself back into a functioning human being. I mean, I’ve started a sort-of bullet journal for my honours year at uni (let’s ignore the fact I graduate next year. It scares the living hell out of me), and I got a super cute haircut. No, seriously, I had my fringe cut and I was so worried, but I actually kind of love it. :love:

Now I am going to go crawl into my bed, which is currently obscured by a giant pile of clean washing, and sleep with the hope that when I wake up tomorrow it won’t be Monday and I won’t have a 10am lecture.

I’ve never heard of such a brutal and shocking injustice that I cared so little about.

I’d apologise for vanishing, but sometimes you just need to take a break from life.

But now that university starts again tomorrow, I guess I’ve returned to the land of the living. Or at least, the land of the active online. Hell, even on Tumblr, I rely completely on my queue for any kind of consistent posting.  :cool:

So, university. I had a morning class, and then an afternoon lecture that I’m not really looking forward to, based entirely on the fact that I have to go over to the main campus and somehow figure out how to find the lecture hall on a campus that is like a small city in itself. It also kind of blows that I’ve already taken this class before, at a different university, but they wouldn’t give me credit for it when I transferred. I mean, the last art history essay I wrote for my previous university was 3,000 words long. This class? I think 1,500 words will be the longest (based on what I heard from last semester’s class, which I didn’t have to take, thank god). The first class? A compulsory first-year class, not much to say. Last semester’s course resulted in a dodgy mark because I pretty much told my lecturer I didn’t think she understood the course outline since she did such a terrible job of explaining it.  -_-

I tried so hard to be organised today – my plan was to grab my groceries and drop into the Apple store to replace my dodgy keyboard before coming home and building my last two pieces of Ikea furniture. Grocery shopping turned into a big deal when I could find a food processor under one hundred dollars  :huh: across five stores. When I finally did get home, building my Ikea stuff tried to kill me, ugh. I really loathe Ikea.By the time I was done, I had to make dinner before realising that most of the ingredients for my pesto pasta were mouldy, absent or masquerading as other things, so I tried to make pancakes and scorched myself and the pancake so badly that I gave up and had toast, and am going to clean up the apartment and then make tea and go to bed with a book. I never claimed I was any sort of cook  -_-*

Tomorrow is going to be a long day. I’m kind of edgy about tomorrow – new semester with new class locations? Makes me anxious. But I plan to nab lunch and maybe some new books (I found a 20% off coupon for Kinokuniya when I was cleaning earlier! A bag of books shall ease my nerves and frustrations.)

I guess it is time I started cleaning up. My mother is coming down tomorrow – my grandmother has a hospital appointment on Thursday that my mother has to go to – and she will complain if my place isn’t tidy  -_-

A Little of This, A Little of That

Things are happening.

  • I’m bored silly in my classes, honestly. Being bored leaves me time to think. Thinking turns me into an anxious mess. I hope it gets better. I’ve already made the decision that if I’m still unhappy – this unhappy – in a year, I’ll transfer to a different school. I’ll need a year to really find my feet, I guess. It’s still horrifying dragging myself in every week, but I guess I’ll manage. I’ve never liked change.
  • I finally found an apartment, whee!

    Read More

I could sleep forever…

Wow.

So, I started university again. It was rather a shock.

First of all, in a city two hours away. And I haven’t been able to find an apartment yet. It’s kind of cut-throat in Sydney. So I’m still looking. I’m commuting and staying near by the university for three days each week. I’m so, so tired each week.

The last seven months has been really hard at home, and it all kind of hit me. I was a mess for the first week; ridiculously enough, when I mentioned how miserable I was, my doctor gave me Xanax. I took half a pill, and yuck. I will never understand how people get addicted to such a dreadful, dreadful medication. What a horrid feeling. I’m trying out herbal remedies for stress and anxiety now.

At this moment, i’m sitting in a room surrounded by things – my drawing tablet (after three-four years, I’ve finally started to master drawing on it; maybe I’ll post some of my efforts) is balanced on my desk, clothes piled in a suitcase (roughly triple what I actually need to pack for Sydney this week), books and bits piled on my bookcase, and a bit of everything piled on my desk.

Easter Holidays will be nice. I’m going to sleep and write and draw and maybe even clock in some time with my Sims.

I’m a simple girl at heart.

Long Days

Every year, I think to myself that life has to get better. That I can’t be more unhappy, that my home life can’t get more miserable, than it already is. And every single damn time, I am wrong. Things can get worse.

In August, we lost one of our rabbits, Domi, but also our 18 year old beagle, Molly. That was like a suckerpunch, honestly. I’ve lived more years with Molly than without her. She came to us this sad, neglected little two year old beagle who didn’t understand toys, bones or why there were three excited little girls crowding around her; she arrived the day after my 11th birthday, and one of my friends was staying over.

And she came with us, across two states and at least half a dozen moves, if not more. She was a beautiful, wonderful dog and she just… wore out in the end. She had various medical problems but in the end, she was just old.

Plus, my dad is living with us at the moment. He is really hard to live with. Like, he gets really angry and nasty when he can’t find specific things to eat. He doesn’t ask us to buy them or buy them himself, he just expects them to appear. It’s sure as hell not helping my depression. I’m getting worse again.

And my sister moved home from Sydney. Wow, that’s been a shock to the system. On one hand, we are really similar, which causes us to clash but also bond. So similar, I find myself saying things with a similar inflection to my sister and not realise it until I’ve said it. Or I’ll make a gesture that she makes.

On then other hand, we’re different. Very different. She’s lived away from home for five years – two years at boarding school, three years at university – by herself. We’ve both got different experienes, different ‘codes’ of behaviour, and I just feel very hunted and crowded with her home. `

So, yes, August has been hard. And my sister is home indefinitely, my father has no jobs coming up that will take him away from home, so I’m stuck in this horrid environment, making me sick and sadder.

On one hand, I’m so ready to live by myself, by my own rules and have a life after being stuck in an unhappy place for so long. On the other hand, I am so goddamned terrified. I like to plan and outline and prepare myself and every little detail. That’s way harder to do when it’s just me by myself.

And right now I’m tired, angry at my father (it has been a very long night) and waiting for my mother and sister to get home and waiting for my naughty, evil little cat to come home.

Tomorrow’s another day, I guess.

Just a Note

My silence on here has not been intentional. After my surgery, I got an infection, and combined with my abdominal issues that are rapidly worsening (Mum and I are discussing going up to the hospital; the iPad, netbook and my phone are all being charged as I sit here), so the silence will probably continue for awhile longer.

I am very very sorry for this, and will respond to all emails and comments as soon as I’m feeling better.

The Time to Worry Is Now

Three hours, twenty eight minutes until I have to be at the hospital.

I really, really hate going under anaesthetic.

I’m sitting here in my pajamas, watching Season 5 of Burn Notice, trying to distract myself.

I still need to pack my day-bag, pack my if-I-have-to overnight bag, charge my netbook and my iPod, find my headphones, charge my 3DS and DSi, make sure my paperwork is finished and ready to go, make sure my medications and inhaler are in a zip-lock bag and make my bed. I’ve also got some art to upload to Deviantart (ugh, if my scanner feels moved to work, that is) and I need to get started on a birthday theme for this site (ten years, this July. That is crazy.)

Three hours, twenty three minutes.

Gabrielle Anwar is frelling awesome as Fiona.

i asked Mum to grab me some hair bands without metal bits. I thought one package. My mother and sister bought me three packages in a rainbow of colours  :D I don’t know why, but it made me laugh.

I am starving. I feel like scrambled eggs and toast. And a hot chocolate.

Three hours and nineteen minutes. I need to get organised.

D-Day

So, hospital tomorrow. I need to be at the hospital at 4pm, which complete sucks. I like early appointments, so I don’t have to worry about … well, everything. I’m a world-class worrier. And it also means that I won’t be discharged until 8:30pm at the very earliest and there’s the distinct possibility that I’ll have to stay the night  :ohdear: I already planned to pack a bag with pajamas, my netbook, my phone and a sketchbook in case I have to stay but I really, really want to come home.

And ugh, I have to have my breakfast (toast) before 9am, and then nothing else to eat, and then I can only sip water until 1pm, and then nothing else to drink. The food thing doesn’t bother me, but the drinking thing really does. I’ve been drinking soda water all day, as if I can prevent myself from being thirsty tomorrow afternoon.

On another topic, I got an invitation to go out to lunch today, but I am so not well enough and my friend, K, is about to go overseas for ages, so  I probably won’t get another chance to see her, which sucks  :ohno: But on that note, I will never understand my town’s restaurant culture and my old classmates – there’s one street with restaurants in my town, and it’s a place to be seen. That’s fine. What’s not fine is paying twenty-five dollars for a glorified sandwich and cold drink, especially when you have no idea if it is going to be any good – none of the cafes on this street are consistent. And the fact is that all these uni students and post-university friends love it. The small amount of money I have, I’d rather save it for more worthwhile – shopping – pursuits.

I just don’t understand the social intricacies of my town.

Onwards We Roll

I have no energy at all. I am sleeping between 16 and 18 hours a day and I still want to sleep more.

I saw my doctor today, I have su certrgery on Thursday to rule a pre-existing condition out (do you know how much I hope it is that?) and another specialist appointment on January 31.

It is so frustrating. There are so many things I want to do  – I most certainly haven’t been blogging or tweeting as much as I wanted in the new year. Mum’s offered to take me to see some movies once I recover from surgery (last time I needed a week) and I finally got my most beloved Canon EOS 1100D kit. It’s so, so lovely. A beautiful red body, two beautiful lenses and a hard travel case for them. I just want to get out there and pratice with it. But I’m so tired I can barely drag myself out of the chair, let alone have the mental and physical energy to pull out, assemble and play with my camera.

It makes me sad.

But maybe, maybe, on the other side of Thursday, I’ll be feeling better.

I’m crossing my fingers.