The Dissertation nightmare

It has just occurred to me that it's been ages since I posted anything here, and not that I am under the impression that my (ha!) readers are eagerly awaiting the next update in my boring life with bated breath, but still, I like the fact that someone may be reading my chaotic ramblings, and getting something out of them. I've been busy to say the least. I should be busy right now, but I'm nursing a massive tequila fuelled hangover, and am lying on my bed, feeling bloated from a massive Nandos feast, so yep, I am not being the constructive person I need to be. My final uni assignments are due in 7th May. After that, it's game over. I will officially be out of the education system after years of school, sixth form and university. As of July, I will be awarded my DEGREE!!! What! I know, I can't believe it either. Still a few hurdles to go, but the one suggested in the title is settled at least. 

My dissertation. The thing I was dreading the most. 8,000 words of prose. I pride myself in being able to write prose at ease, and yet I underestimated the workload. I took on a massive challenge in my piece's structure, and it's taken me months of drafting, reading, redrafting, moaning, swearing and sending passive-aggressive stressy emails to my tutor, but finally, it's done. I need it binding and handing in to the office, and then that's a weight off my shoulders. With a Shakespeare essay, and an Eastenders portfolio still to tackle though, I can't relax just yet. With the aim to finish my work almost a week early, I am stressy! I'm uninspired, bored and just ready for a break. I have absolutely no career path in mind. I have no future prospects that are practical or in any way probable. I want to write. It is my passion. It runs through my veins and it is the only thing that has ever come naturally to me. To pursue a career in it, would be life changing. I'm a bit lost though, as I am a student and I need the money, as I'll soon have over £30,000 of student debt (HAHAHAHA WHAT.) and I have no idea how much money that is, and I'll never know. But still, I hope I get somewhere after three gruelling years of hard work, stress and tears. I've met some lovely people at uni, had some genuinely brilliant laughs, learned things I wouldn't even imagine, and yet, given my time over, I'm not sure I would make the same choices again. For me, uni, even from living at home, has been hard. I am not a naturally gifted person. I work hard for my marks, I've had three 1st marks in as many years, and I honestly felt like framing them, because I was shocked and proud to get those marks. I've never ever not put work in and fluked something. I'm the kind of person who has to read the novels, revise the plays, recite the poems, turn up with annotated copies of things, make notes in lectures and pay attention to what I'm told. Nothing about these last three years has been easy. There were times I've been ready to chuck the towel in, ups and downs like you'd never believe, and not just in my uni life, but it's been an experience all the same. 

there will be a certain amount of nostalgia when we raise a glass to the last three years, say a fond farewell to our fellow students and step out into the cruel wide world as graduates, as adults with degrees who are supposed to have their shit together. I'll miss it, maybe not for the reasons I should, but God, there will be a teary moment somewhere down the line. I'm leaving what I've always known, because it's time, I guess. It's time to be the person I've become. 

Intoxicating.

Well, it's safe to say, I've just had the best New Year, ever. I'm so happy, my face is hurting because I can't physically stop smiling. The kind of happiness that you can't shift, even if you try. I've been wearing my best smile for about 72 hours now, even in the midst of one of the worst hangovers imaginable. The last few days have been a blur, a brilliant, surreal blur. I feel like it sort of all merged into one, happy, messy day. One person in particular is responsible for my Cheshire cat-sized grins, racing pulse and sheer volume of sleep deprivation. Someone who can potentially, (and is already) making me the happiest I've been in a hell of a long time. Someone who knows me better than most, and for some mad reason, doesn't want to run a mile at the prospect of being with me. I honestly can't imagine why, but I'm very happy that he thinks that. I feel a bit brainwashed. It's intoxicating. I feel totally drunk, even though I'm (yes, for the first time in 2014 I can say this and truthfully mean it) stone-cold sober. My face is aching, I literally haven't stopped grinning from ear to ear. I can't think straight, it's impossible to concentrate, I'm checking my phone every five seconds like I'm demented or something. I don't think I've took a breath properly in days. Everything just feels so right. It kind of makes me want to kick myself, I mean, if this is what I've been missing out on all this time, then I seriously must be mad. I have a deadline looming, and I want to abandon it, because there's somewhere I'd much rather be. I'm pretty ecstatic right now. There isn't anything or anyone that can shake this mood, and I'm so relieved. I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I really am happy.

2014, we meet at last.

This time 24 hours ago, I was just walking through the front door. Safe to say I definitely wasn't the first foot in. Greeted with mixed expressions of amusement, disappointment and embarrassment, me and my stinking hangover just wanted bed. I well and truly celebrated new year in style. Okay, no. I didn't. I got blind drunk, showed myself up and then had to play down my drunkenness in company. I never slept, didn't get home, and carried on drinking. I made friends, then enemies with crowds of people, took hundreds of spaced-out photos that you can't even make out, and spent too much money on hard liquor. Instead of arriving home yesterday and seeking bed, food and a shower, I made arrangements to go back out. Officially round two. New Year's Day, it's impossible to stay in for. Even my parents were getting ready to go out, while I struggled to eat anything. I powered through, showered, changed and slapped some make up on, in a desperate attempt to disguise the fact I was in that weird limbo between hungover and drunk. 

Today I'm pale and still shaking. The room is spinning, and every time I get up, it feels like I'm moving far too fast. Needless to say, I don't even want to think about any more alcohol for at least another week. Every part of my body hurts. I've greeted 2014 with a horrible hangover and unsure smiles, sambuca and sleep-deprivation. The radio is shouting and acting as some sort of motivational voice, and yet, I'm just lying in bed feeling overly sorry for myself. My feet are sore, I'm severely dehydrated and I can't shift this feeling of queasiness hanging around so unwelcome. I'm happy though. Very happy. Even if I am in so much pain. I think I need a brisk walk in the January sun and shift these blues. Apparently January blues are alcohol-inflicted. Or at least they are in my case. I saw the new year in very messily, and yet, I'm happier than ever. I've not stopped smiling in about two days straight. My liver is crying out for sobriety, my head wants painkillers and my muscles just want to shrivel up and die. Rough times. Curled up with puppy in bed, today is officially a write-off. HAPPY NEW YEAR. 

It's all over.

Well, this is it. We're officially waving a fond, nostalgic little farewell to Christmas 2013 and yet, are stuck in the limbo that is the six days between it and the new year. A new era. A new start, full of fresh prospects and opportunities. January sales. Also, January spells end. No more christmas tree, fairy lights, or gift-wrap. No more drinking cava at 3 in the afternoon because "it's Christmas!" The tins of celebrations only have the bounty's left, the weather goes from bad to worse, and getting out of bed for work, school or uni becomes almost too much to handle. It's grim. It's out with the seasonal stuff and in with the real-life. Full-force back to sensible. For me, it seems like I've been partying and lazing around since about May. Exams ended, along with uni, and summer was full of parties and long lie-ins, light nights and suntans. As autumn arrived, we held onto the memory of summertime with an intense sort of nostalgia. The hottest summer we'd had in years. It seemed so bittersweet, so unfair, that now it had all been snatched from our grasp so viciously. Autumn turned to winter, December arrived and received a mixed reception. Panic-buying was at it's highest. And then the dreaded day. The one day everyone is left wondering what to do. Today is 27th December. The day after Boxing Day. Sales are in full-swing, families are back in their own beds and the January blues are peeking over the horizon. I'm deciding to take it all with a pinch of salt and an overly-enthusiastic smile. Let's get optimistic people. 

Let's get seasonal.

Somehow, while I've been blinking, staring vainly into a mirror or tweeting something, Christmas has arrived (well, almost!) Less than four days until everyone goes all super-festive and splashes out on turkey crowns and lots of stuffing, Christmas crackers with bad jokes in and of course, stupid hats. Whether you're a fan of this time of year or you're more negatively known as a total Scrooge, there is something kind of magical about it. 

I love Christmas (even though I hate winter.) The happy smiling faces, the tinsel everywhere and the endless reel of festive music played everywhere you go. It seems I can't even go to the shop without hearing someone attempt a BandAid tribute act sporting tatty, bad-fitting Santa hats. It's lovely though, right? Maybe that's just me. All the silly, stupid, eccentric kind of things are all acceptable at this time of year. Spending an unnatural amount of time in close proximity with family, some of which you will probably only see twice in the coming year. The extortionate shopping sprees leaving hundreds of people in debt to enter the new year, because treating anyone and everyone you know is an absolute must on December 25th. The only time anyone dares to wake me up early and doesn't have to fear the wrath of my sharp tongue. From Jack Frost to The Santa Clause, the festive films just seem to be shown on a loop. Fireworks, food and family. Exchanging gifts, spending time with the most special people in my life and just having some time to really reflect on the year gone by, whether it be good, bad or downright ugly. 

So, I'm currently wrapped up in bed watching QI and Mock The Week repeats and humming along to a Christmas song I can't even place now. A smile is resting ever so slightly on my lips. Four days to go. A matter of hours. The shops are going mad. Everyone is frantic. Wrapping paper, cellotape and batteries have never been in higher demand. There's so many fairy lights donned around some streets that it's only a matter of time until they fuse the national grid or the leccy company shut them off as a sign of bad will. 

I'm making Christmas Eve plans to go out, for the first time ever. The first year I'm celebrating Christmas no longer a teenager. Heidi's first Christmas. The first time I've been really unprepared, and I have to be honest, I'm nowhere near as excited as I should be. Fair enough, I'm the big 2-0 now, but still. It's still a special time of year, and I'm thinking of changing my name to Ebenezer unless I start slapping a smile on my face and feeling the spirit. (And no, that's not alcoholic spirit, to my dismay.) The counting has truly begun, everyone is having the will-it/won't-it snow debate and waiting for 25th with bated breath, butterflies and the occasional beer. 

I'm getting there. There's nothing better than spending three days straight with your family talking and reminiscing and exchanging gifts and drinking and eating your own body weight in gorgeous food. 2013 has had it's ups and downs, highs and lows, and I don't know whether I should be nostalgic or relieved to see the back of it. I lost someone special this year, made a hell of a lot of bad choices, and a few good ones. I've made friends and the occasional enemy. I've had a lot of firsts, and hopefully not any lasts. I love and cherish everyone in my life, and I never want to lose them. So, here's to you all. If you're even half as happy as me come Christmas Day, you'll have a wonderful time I'm sure. Whatever you're doing, whether it's a wild party, or a quiet affair, a family reunion or just a peaceful close-knit Christmas, enjoy it. Appreciate everything, especially this time of year. So pens down people, it's officially on it's way. Turn the music on, the heating up and crack open the alcohol. Now that's an entirely different meaning to a merry Christmas. 

x

21 days and counting.

So, I've heard Fairytale of New York about half a dozen times today, there's a tree and lots of tinsel adorning many houses, and advent calendars have begun to be opened, or in some cases, demolished guiltily on December 1st. (We've all done it, don't lie.) The Americans across the water have celebrated thanksgiving, cards are being sent and received and panic-buying for the festive season is at an all-time high. Yes, I suppose the Christmas countdown really has begun. Excitement fills the air as many children cross off the days until Santa arrives, and adults make plans of festive cheer and buy shed loads of Christmassy food and crates of alcohol to see in the new year. 

All of this hustle and bustle, and the imminence of snow, has got me thinking about the ending of one year, and the anticipation of another. As of midnight on January 1st, we will be in 2014. Kind of has a good ring to it, doesn't it? I'm sort of looking forward to it. Maybe because (it's no secret) I love the run up to new year, the organisation, the making plans, the fresh start, clean slate, all that kind of sentimental bullshit bandied about all over greetings cards, fridge magnets and social networks. It's kind of true though. There's something quite liberating about drinking your way into a new year, a new beginning, full of possibilities and new opportunities. Everyone's singing and swaying to Auld Lang Syne with alcoholic beverages in their hands, messily entering a new year. It's just wonderful.

I'm never overly strict with New Years resolutions, but this year, I'm going to make a concerted effort to stick to it. So you're thinking, with bated breath, 'what now?' Well, I'm not planning on anything too unrealistic or unachievable, just this: my New Years resolution is to be a nicer person. Yes, I'm going to make the effort to be a kinder, more helpful, thoughtful individual in 2014. I'm going to try and be selfless where I can, and show the lovely people in my life how much I value and appreciate their presence. Nice and profound ey? Well, who can blame me? It's something a lot of people should work on. I've got one or two people in mind when I say that but I won't give them the satisfaction of naming them. 

So that's mine, what's yours? Or do you have more than one, or an entire list? I imagine that closer to the time, I'll end up compiling a '2014 To Do List' because I'm just the most neurotic person ever, but that's all I've got for now. Anyway, that'd be different. I'm intrigued what everyone else has in mind for a New Years resolution, so let me know. Tweet me: @eleanorward_ or send me a message/comment on here. I'm interested.

Misery loves company.

"Rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life."

-J.K Rowling.

Have you ever just wanted to disappear for a while? Get up and vanish? Imagine your life without you, or perhaps, with someone else living your life? I have. A series of low days caused me to fall into this negative way of thinking. I'm a pessimistic person anyway, but I sunk pretty low recently, and ended up mulling over stuff like this. The feeling of being away from it all. A break from the life you're living to just relax, chill, forget, de-stress, some necessary R&R. 

I've had all the cliches fired my way, including "it's their loss" and "everything happens for a reason" and eventually, I just wanted to scream. It was right, I did want to escape. I strived for more of an escape than music, or television, or film, or literature, or friends or even alcohol could give me. I wanted the solace, the solidarity, the absence of something more than just a sitcom or a song blurring in the background of my mind. However, I found, that during a hard time, the more I tried to isolate myself, the more company I found myself in. I shut my bedroom door and hid beneath the covers. I turned my phone off, and was absence from any social networking I'm usually such a big part of. I ignored texts and phonecalls. I missed the escape of television. I lost interest in the outside world. I fell behind on my Uni work and reading. I didn't pick up a book, or my ipod, or anything. I sat in such a deafening silence that just made me want to cry and never stop. It was awful.

So, that's when I thought, what if there are people out there that don't want me to go AWOL for a while? What if there's someone out there depending on me, needing me, or just trying to get in touch with me? I gradually reappeared. I left my bedroom. Turned my phone back on. Tweeted, logged into Facebook, Blogged, emailed, Snapchatted even. I put some make up on, and got dressed up. I turned the television on and the radio up and did all I possibly could to drown out the silence I was now stuck in. And apparently, that was all I needed to do. My support system leaked through my walls, and every social networking site you can think of. Friends text me, arranged meetings and made plans to see if I was in fact as 'fine' as I'd told them all. Nights out were arranged, smiles slapped on faces, drinks poured and heavily drank, laughter was even heard. Turns out, misery does love company, but not in that sense.

I gave myself some space to cope. Some silence to appreciate the noise I was trying to drown out in the first place. Now, I thrive in the shouts, the constant whir of contact I have. While at my lowest, I questioned everything and everyone in my life, as a personal matter of insecurity, when I needed them the most, they forced themselves into my life (and me out of bed) and refused to take "no" for an answer. I got hugs and happy messages thrown my way. Positivity was practically drowning me, and yet, I had the wonderful support system around me to keep my head above water. As it happens, lonesome misery is exhausting but sometimes, it's necessary. I didn't want to sit and vent to loved ones about something I felt so strongly about. It was, in a sense, private. I didn't know who to tell or speak to. But after coming out of a temporary hiding, they were all there for me. Eagerly awaiting my company, and being ready, if I needed it, to be the shoulder to cry on. For this, I am undeniably grateful.

So, this is for everyone who helped me through something that hit me really hard. Something that left tears in my eyes and a suffocating feeling in my chest. To my family, who were there and didn't ask too many questions, and my endless string of friends who gave me time to sulk, cry and get back on my feet. For all the hugs and positive words, the venting, the coffee (and alcohol) supplied, the comfort food, never saying "I told you so" even when you know you did, the silly laughs, the reminder of what I'm worth. I won't name you all, because you know who you are, and that's what I like about it. I just really need you all to know that I'm very thankful for you being there for me, and not walking away even when I pushed you.


...If I stopped lying, I'd just disappoint you.