My head explained...somewhat

Walk with me.

I am 25. In my head. Not some messed up, confused, anxiety prone 27-verging-on-28 year old, but carefree and 25.

Before I had even met The Boy. The scars run deep and were hacked open many a time. My psychologist and I have established that the best thing that ever happened to me was getting dumped. I am now free to take control of my own life.

Getting lost in work has helped. So while I've had a new laptop for a while, I've been burying myself in work late at night; on the weekend. This goes part of the way of explaining the non-blogging period, sorry. Work, for now, is the one thing I draw my strength and confidence from, and the one thing I will use as a foundation to regain my strength and confidence in other areas of my life as well.

People at work have helped too. My entire social network at this point in time is mainly work friends; again, a good basis to build on. I drink with them, dance with them, pash them (ahem) and genuinely enjoy getting to know them. I am a single, carefree 25 year old again, as I was two years ago; drinking too much, partying too much, staying out late, chasing boys. It's almost as if the last two years never happened.

But they did. And I'm almost grateful. They've made me see what I never want to be again. What I never want to experience again. What sort of person I never want to be around again. Like I said, almost grateful.

It's a journey. I'm constantly employing my newly found cognitive thinking skills even to do little things like get out of bed in the morning, or to clean my house. I go back to see the doctor this week, and hopefully my mental health assessment will be enough to keep me off the little pills.

Obviously though, my sleep patterns are still all fucked up.

This may become a little journal-like for a little while. It's only know that I've felt strong enough to put pen to paper, metaphorically speaking. Thank you if you are still sticking with me. I promise to try and be more regular again. But not like a period.

*****

And in other news...does anyone realise that Channel 7 are showing re-runs of Popstars: The Bardot years??? SERIOUSLY. WORTH. STAYING. UP. (REALLY FUCKEN) LATE. FOR!