I'm a bit of a mess.
I'm this *fingertips* close to getting myself flunked out of university. My vocabulary has been atrocious. I've lost most of my revision notes and everytime I think of my extended essay due in three months, hardly researched and hardly a clue, I have to take another propranolol to stop myself having a full blown anxiety attack.
I also had sex with a guy. Without a condom, because I don't seem to give a shit. Dissociation rocks. At least it guarantees you regular sex. I've tried my best to move away from this one of my many forms of self-destruction.
But I've also done good things. I went to Egypt on a journalist expedition as a SPEAKER, at an international youth peace conference, and people were listening to me and asking questions. They wanted me to work with them on projects and I was somewhat awesome. The week was marred a little by the monster spiders and the hotel worker who tried to rape me (...trying to push me onto the bed, "it will only take 5 minutes..."), but otherwise the highlight of my year.
And I'm a real radical feminist. The good kind, I don't have vaginas wallpapered everywhere, that would be gross and go against the contract I've got with my landlord (I now live in a house in Manchester with three girls including a raving homophobic Catholic). No, I work on the magazine we're trying to restart - I have creative control - I get to write. And the whole dizzying brilliance of it all almost gives me a panic attack.
I've also found myself with an addiction to Doctor Who, Torchwood and a fist-sized crush on David Tenant and John Barrowman. I'm still a lesbian. At least it feels right and solid and frisky and proper when I'm with a woman than all the nervous sexual energy and the inherent beautiful wrongness than when I kiss a guy.
And in-between? I discovered foreign films, facebook, Rilo Kiley, New Order, Talking Heads and even more Regina Spektor songs. I found refuge in Bob Dylan, Kate Nash and Adele. I saw my friends, family and my mother. I had a good christmas and new year. And I'm trying to find my friends again, despite the dissociation, but because of it as well because I don't want to scurry away from my friends anymore than I have already. I'm talking about friends I actually like. Who's going to come to my 20th birthday this year? Being 19th 1/2 is no great shakes. And I'm mostly sorry to Lioness and Dana for neglecting them and allowing them to forget all about me. I'm sorry for all the chances I purposely missed last year because they could have made my life better.
And I'm hoping to start again.