It feels like literally forever since I last wrote a blog post! To tell the truth, things are just so busy right now that there doesn’t seem to be enough hours in the day.
Life at the moment is all about work, and I’m actually really content with that. As well as my part-time job, I’ve managed to really get into freelance writing, which is honestly an absolute a dream come true for me. It’s something I’ve been meaning to do for ages, so for that to finally be a reality is incredibly rewarding.
Without blowing my own trumpet too much, I’m actually super proud of me at the moment. I feel more secure and confident in myself and my decisions than ever before.
I just got my Uni results back about a month ago, and passed my year of Magazine Journalism with firsts in 4 modules and 2:1s in the other 2, and I couldn’t be happier. I’ve also had my place on Psychology confirmed for September. It seems surreal to me that at the beginning of 2019 I was in the position of having to complete a semester in a course I knew I did not want to pursue anymore, and I remember wondering how I was going to get through it.
After a few weeks of stress and anxiety, I made the decision to just make the best of it. I knew I couldn’t change the situation, so I might as well go all in and take from it what I could rather than be miserable for 4 months.
And I’m so glad I did! Those few months gave me chance to learn skills that were invaluable in helping me become a freelance writer. Had I not taken the decision to get what I could from the rest of my time on the course, I would have left not only with worse grades, but unhappy and having gained nothing.
Looking back even further, I wish I could tell my younger self how things were going to turn out. Without throwing a pity party for myself, my teenage years were really rough. When I look back at the damaged soul I was, struggling with a rollercoaster of depression and anxiety combined with some pretty heavy life experiences, it actually makes me really emotional.
I couldn’t see any future for myself, and never in my wildest dreams would have anticipated ever becoming strong enough to move out, go to Uni and start a business doing what I love by the age of 21. I certainly never imagined I would ever feel this confident and sure of myself.
And to be fair, it’s taken a hell of a lot to get here, and I’m incredibly proud to have done so. Some of the setbacks have been huge. Since I was first properly diagnosed with depression and anxiety at 16, I’ve had my fair share of less-than-useful therapy experiences, medications that don’t agree with me and what feels like a hell of a lot of people who very obviously had little belief in me or my capabilities (if only you could see me now bitches!!**)
I honestly do not recognise the girl I used to be. If I’m totally honest, I don’t think mental illness is something that will ever not be a part of me – it’s still very much something that affects me and that I do have to continue to work on, but it does not rule my life in the way it used to.
I’m very much ready for the next chapter in my life now. I’m loving my blogging and writing, and am excited to get back into studying my other big passion at Uni. I really would give so much to go back and tell 15-year-old me that actually, everything was going to turn out just fine.
** feeling smug