Not Feeling Particularly Great But It's Fine

20/3/26

I started writing this about a week before posting and wanted to wait and see if I still wanted this to be shared. This blog talks about the idea of suicide but no actual events pertaining to such. For the record I am fine.

I’m just not doing amazing at the moment. I feel like I’m wasting all my time when I could be doing things that’ll get me somewhere in life.

For as long as I can remember I was always happier in school. I do genuinely love studying, nearly everything that comes with attending classes, the structure that comes with school. My only goal in life for years was to just get to university and everything else will sort itself out. Now that I got that chance, I didn’t take it. As much as it would benefit to go easy on my past self or whatever, I’m so, so mad that I didn’t take it.

Worst part, I know exactly why I didn’t. Everything else was lined up near perfectly - I had a grade-dependent offer that felt too good to be true, I easily surpassed those grades, it was for a university that I accidentally applied to because I didn’t believe I would ever get into such a good place, and I threw it all out because I couldn’t make a phone call. Like, you have to believe me, the reason I’m still at home is because the prospect of having to call a couple people frightened me so much that I took a gap year. It was to do with student loans, I think there was an error with the whole deal being cancelled, and nothing I did would fix it. The only solution was a phone call. As time went on, more and more phone calls, discussions, and whatever else would have to have taken place to set things right, and some part of me couldn’t go through with it.

Besides, I could probably have done with getting some more money before I left, and some financial things came up at home that would’ve made me feel bad for leaving. In retrospect, I should’ve gotten the fuck out while I had the chance.

There was something else I considered writing, but it might be a little too much, considering it mostly pertains to other peoples’ problems that I’d feel weird sharing. I’m saying this because that something else would’ve made this detour flow better. I don’t think anyone around me loved school like I did. I naturally got good grades, so I suppose it was natural that I enjoyed it. Most of my friends and immediate family seemed to have quite poor experiences, common things like bullying and not doing too great at certain subjects, so it’s understandable that they don’t feel the same. I fully acknowledge that, if anything, I’m the weird one here.

My mum isn’t too thrilled at the prospect of me going to university. Without getting into any specific events, there’s been enough subtle hints for me to figure this out. I’ve also had friends who simply didn’t care when I told them about my A-levels, which even though it stung a little for me, I can look at their situations and understand why they weren’t too thrilled to hear about it.

It’s things like this - and this seems to be the case with many of my worries - that I’m not the victim here. Objectively speaking, I’m doing better than most of the people around me, and had it infinitely easier than them. The solution is for me to simply cope with it and figure things out with the resources that I do have at hand. Most of the time, all I’m doing is catastrophizing by cooping up in my own head, meanwhile people with real tangible problems have sorted themselves out now.

Back onto university, last July I did try to reapply in hopes that I could get in via clearing. The only thing I was missing was a character reference, which I got last time from the college I did my A-levels at (UK college, different thing). I finally had the balls to make a couple calls (granted, after a week or three of putting it off) and got sent down a line of numbers until I reached someone who didn’t pick up the phone. Actually, it was three people who all didn’t pick up, so I was advised to send an email, only to get no response. Sure, it was a little late, but really? Was that the best I could get?

That wasn’t, like, a huge issue in my life just then. I’m just so pissed about it.

So commenced my second gap year that I’m currently sitting through. I thought I had a job lined up for me but that no longer appears to be the case*. It was grueling to get a job last year, too; I think I’ve only spent around a third of my time since leaving college in work. I couldn’t even fucking volunteer, they wanted character references that I still can’t get!! My college won’t answer, my old job that I’m supposed to be back in won’t answer, and that all makes me think that trying at all is pointless, making things even worse for myself.

And I have it easy! I genuinely do! I have good grades, a pretty decent character according to most of the adults who’ve had to work with me (as in, I’m not seen as oppositional or ‘difficult’), I can keep myself presentable, I did get accepted into all the universities I applied for, and yet all I do is sulk. I’m more than capable of fixing all of this and I choose not to. I’ve known so many people with horrific upbringings, struggling to even wake up, awful emotional issues, needing years of therapy with vastly varying outcomes, and they’re all able to take care of themselves. What the hell am I doing?

Journaling doesn’t help! Writing your thoughts is awful. All I do is write down my thoughts and all I get is flashbanged when I’m looking for recipe links that I keep in my notes.

I think, above everything, I just feel inadequate most of the time. Some of these are tangible problems but most result from me letting myself spiral. When I was finally at work I felt as though I was doing everything wrong, even on the occasion when I knew that I wasn’t. It’s like there’s a kind of fog everywhere and… I don’t know, actually. Normally I’d describe it as having a layer of cotton insulating my brain, but I think fog is more commonly understood. I don’t really feel that particular way anymore, I just feel, bad. Like, in general. Anything that isn’t the act of feeling bad is a meaningless distraction from feeling bad, and in those moments I’m not feeling bad properly and am therefore faking feeling bad. Obviously.

If I understood what all of this was I’d stop caring too much, but as it stands now, I don’t. It’s happened before, though, and I can deal with it again.

I remember when I wanted to get to university so bad (not like I don’t right now), I wasn’t very assured of my future (not like I am right now either). All I knew was once I finally got out my house I’d be able to try and sort out whatever this general feeling is. I think therapy is the standard route. In an equal measure, I’d imagine that I’d have the opportunity to kill myself, probably also due to that bad feeling that I don’t have a better name for. I would have a level of privacy that I have never had before, so getting caught in the middle of the act and permanently fucking up my health would be less of a concern. I’m upsetting myself writing this now, so I’ll take a break. I don’t enjoy thinking about these things anymore.

…

Okay I’m back. I’m not sure if I ever would’ve gone through with either plan; I try not to make a fuss of myself or, as weird as it sounds, ask for help if I might not need it, nor would I actually have wanted to die. I think that the idea of suicide is, for me at least, a psychological safety net. If too many things go wrong, I don’t have to keep wading through them. If I can’t go through with my Plan A, here’s a Plan B, where I don’t need to think of any plans afterwards.

I don’t have much planned for my life. I know that I won’t amount to an awful lot, and most people don’t anyway. I can’t come up with any direction that would require me living past 50 at a stretch, and as it stands, I’m comfortable living a shorter life. Compared to others, I’ve always felt that my aspirations were different. Everyone probably feels different, but… I don’t know, it’s like I know that I’m different. Even when I was a young child I had different priorities from my peers. I remember so many people back then - and of course, now - who aspired to have their own families, who wanted to date and fall in love, and it was completely foreign to me. I’ve never had any interest in relationships besides a very recent desire to see how it feels before moving on to more important things, whatever those will be.

Right now, my friends (which I can finally say that I have!) all have partners and I can’t help but wonder if I’d just be happier if I went along and tried to do the same myself. Of course, it’ll have to be a girl. On one hand, getting a partner solely to check off a box will not make anyone happier, even aside from my own personal issues, and from hers. On the other hand, I still wonder if it’s one of those things where you can never know just how good it is until you try it. Although, in order to actually, truly fit in, I’d be better off finding a man, and that prospect really would push me to commit. God, I don’t want children.

So with all that out there, I think that if I were to try and explain that I don’t have much lined up for myself, I’d be advised to give half of my life to another person, and somehow enjoy it. No regard for my own wellbeing. Just find someone you can put up with until you’re 80. I’d rather dedicate half my life to a career that fulfils me and makes me at least feel that I’m doing something worthwhile with my life, and now that feels unattainable. I don’t want children, I hardly want the responsibility of pets, I want to be able to take care of myself without having to be dependent on other people, and that sort of freedom probably doesn’t exist, and that revelation has sunk in and now instead I want to die.

I know you can’t always get what you want, but I’ve been continuously lowering the bar for years and I don’t think I can put it any lower. I want a job that doesn’t drain my soul and a place to live on my own, in what world is that asking too much? No matter what, I can't see myself being happy. None of this warrants me reaching old age, there’s nothing there that I’m looking forward to.

Despite all this, I do think that I’ll be fine. If nothing else, I’ll get used to whatever situation I find myself in. Killing yourself is supposed to be kinda difficult, it’s not worth the risk. My only other options are stagnation and taking my chances at anything else that comes up. The second one isn’t too bad.

*As of editing this to make it even remotely comprehensible, I finally have a job. Hooray.

Onto minor things, I recently found myself in a cat cafe, and found some lovely siamese and semi-bald cats. I want to write a little more about them separately, for a reason that I’ll keep hidden (it’s not too great, just something on the site I’m working on).

After years of pining, I was given a tattoo needle and gave myself a stick and poke. It’s just a little pentagram on my foot, an ankle sock covers it up. For a first attempt, the line work is just as expected, that is, kinda bad. Another pass should clean it up well. Normally I’d hesitate to do something so risky to myself, but if I keep that up I’ll miss out on so much. Baby steps.

Back in high school there was this person who I thought was pretty cool, I think we got along well. The person I met them through stopped bringing me over to them at some point - maybe they fell out, maybe the cooler person moved, I have no idea - and so we stopped talking. A little while ago, one of my current friends mentioned this person, and now I keep thinking about meeting up. The main issue is that they probably don’t remember me, and I don’t want to bite off more than I can chew in terms of relationships. I used to struggle with balancing two people on top of my personal life, maybe trying to reach out isn’t a great idea.

A bit of advice for anyone who read this far: if you’re offered a 4-day work week and you get to choose your day off, choose Wednesday. Or whichever day is right in the middle of your work week. The Friday will look tempting, but you won’t notice any difference at all. Don’t try to extend your current weekend. Break the week into two, use that middle day to do your chores and hassles, you don’t get burnt out as bad by the end of the week, and this, I promise you, will make your weekend feel longer. I’ve been in both situations. You want the free Wednesday. It also helps to keep to the schedule of your peers, too. Go out on Friday night, come back on Monday, and now you only have 2 days of work before your next break. It’s good.