Self-diagnostic therapy

Oh dear. Doesn’t history have a habit of repeating itself?

I have been here before. I think this is going to be one of those rambling blogs, but I’ll try to keep it under control.

So what’s up then?

Well firstly I can’t see how I’m going to make these deadlines. And this isn’t just ‘eek’ rhetoric its actually real stuff, my last sets of essays at undergrad occurred under exactly the same set of conditions and they were disastrous. I threw away my professors feedback for my dissertation when I had only got a few sentences in. I didn’t care; I knew I had produce something resembling tripe. It’s all happening again.

Secondly someone back home is really getting on my nerves. I think I am just feeling the strain so am open to minor irritations. But I am even angrier with myself for allowing them to get to me. I had this same sort of feeling about someone else once and it almost ruined my first year at uni because just their very name could somehow scramble all my brain connectors and I would be overcome with a sort of low level rage for the rest of the day. It’s not a very productive feeling. But like I say, I have dealt with it before, and I’m sure I’ll deal with it this time.

Thirdly… the future. Or the undiscovered country. Or my life. Whatever I choose to call it, it still haunts my every move. I have such high expectations of myself and I seem to tear myself apart each day as hope and doubt compete in a wasteful war of attrition. Despite the ‘knowing’ smirks on some friend’s faces I didn’t come to do a Masters to hide from making any big decisions about my life. I already know what I want to do, and a Masters is one of them, but it is the plans for my post post grad life which have already been set in motion that are giving me bother, not my lack of them.

Fourthly… well, I seem to be on a role so if I had to nominate a fourth I would say that I have a horrible cold, and even my super duper, extra strength, not legal in the EU drugs are not coming to my aid. And to make things a nice round five I have begun to go over the events of a week ago in my mind and am starting to regret it all. I want a second chance.

So that’s me right now. A nice little package of bunged up misery.

Tomorrow I know I will be a lot more cheerful because I am dressing up as a sailor. So with imminent good news round the corner I should stop feeling sorry for myself and do something useful.

Self-diagnostic therapy complete. And it worked. Ha.