Two weeks ago, I ventured to London for some work things and along the way I lost myself. Well, I lost my lost self – I actually found my old self. It’s complicated, right? I wrote about how I had become grounded and how I felt like I was discovering who I once was whilst walking the streets and riding the tube. I got lost in a Brexit rally and I ate late night sausage rolls. I vlogged in public and I followed through my tradition of a frozen yogurt on the benches in Covent Gardens.

Two weeks on, and I’ve lost myself again. I don’t want to be this person who constantly bounces back and forth between lost and found. I don’t want to become one of those people who just constantly whinge about their life when there is such worst things going on in the world. 

But mental health.

I guess I lost myself again because the day after my return to the north, I went back into the same old routine. In reality, nothing was going to change if I didn’t change anything, and yet I convinced myself that I could do it. I convinced myself that now that I had rediscovered myself, it was time to move on with my life marching to my own beat. I was wrong. It’s common sense that unless something changes, nothing will change – and yet here I am, falling back in to the same routines that have haunted me for years. 

I am sad. I am broken and I am sad. 

Today, ironically, I am meant to be going to London for the day to film with the BBC. The project is huge, and it’s definitely my ‘career highlight’ thus far. I get to sit and talk about something close to my heart, with the hopes to spread a bit of awareness as well. Here I am, once again, with a huge opportunity in front of me and all I want to do is get into bed with my puppy and hide. 

The issue this time, you ask?

It’s the same old story. I feel completely and utterly overwhelmed with the fear that I will never be good enough. I am running myself into the ground by working a full time job, studying a masters degree, writing, writing some more and trying to establish myself in this world as a broken twenty-twenty-something adult. I have skipped therapy twice, because I cannot find the time. I have let my friendships slip because I am too busy staring out of the window during important meetings. I am tired. And then I am also that sort of emotionally tired that is different to being physically tired. I feel like I am trying to prove a point but I haven’t quite worked out who I’m proving it to just yet. 

Still, I am trying to prove it and in doing so, I am ultimately exhausting myself in every aspect of the word.

This week, the boy I told I loved but then it didn’t matter because it turned out to be too late decided it was his time to move on with somebody new. Good for him. And I mean that, good for him. But why do I carry such guilt and resentment for something that in his opinion, wasn’t meant to be? I pine to fix things because there have been such times in my past that I haven’t been able to fix. But I can’t fix this because I am not good enough. At this point, I realise I am rambling. 

Do you ever have one of those weeks? Where Monday is terrible and the days that follow just get progressively worst? And you can’t actually remember at what point you slept and maybe you forget to eat your lunch because you’re so focused on trying to just make it through the week? And then finally it’s Saturday and you think that you can finally relax but then something comes up, like maybe a friend wants to go for lunch and you know you should go because it will make you happy but also you know that you need to just stay on the sofa curled up with Netflix or maybe a book and that will fix your problems and help you recharge your batteries? But then you end up going for lunch with your friend because you gave yourself a pep talk. Only when you get home you realise you should have listened to your gut feeling and then Sunday rolls around and you’re just this numb human being going through the motions of a Sunday whilst in the back of your head you feel that awkward weight pulling you down and making you feel like a really heavy cloud? 

That has been me on a constant, dragged out loop since January 1st. I thought that by giving myself the pep talk, I could enter the year with a positive attitude. Yet, I should have listened to my gut feeling and took some time to hear what I was really saying. And what I was really saying was that I needed to take time to find my happy. I have had this constant heavy cloud feeling in the back of my head for 29 days now and I don’t know when, or if, it will disappear. I told you two weeks ago that I’d started neglecting my phone, which is usually the first sign that things are shifting – and yet here I am, broken as a human with my phone turned off as I write this. I didn’t listen to myself, instead I turned my phone off. I avoided the problem by removing the sign. 

I said it in this weeks rather sloppy weekly vlog, but just for one day I wish I could believe in myself the way that those around me seem to believe in me. I wish I could understand that what I am doing shouldn’t be because I want to be good enough for somebody else but should be acceptable at my own standards. Instead, I push on, refusing to listen to what I truly need. 

Please. If you read this. If you follow me or my life or take anything from what I say. Listen to yourself. Do not keep pushing off the inevitable until there is a convenient time to deal with it. There is no convenient time to be sad. There is never a good time to feel a bit shitty about life. If you keep waiting, then like me you will completely burn yourself out and forget which direction you’re heading in. I have lost myself hugely this month and yet the scariest part is that I have hidden it well. I am not sure what to do next, whether I keep hiding or whether I begin to fix the problems. 

I mean, I should probably start by returning to therapy…




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