Facing up to reality... :/

No weigh in! :( There was way too much going on this past fortnight for me to be able to focus on my diet. That sounds like an excuse and it is one BUT there is some truth to it! It was my 23rd birthday!!! (Here are my birthday cards)

Well the dissertation has been trundling along, scratch that, it has not been trundling along at all, it all came to a head this week when I decided that I should repeat the year. It was getting ridiculous, I was missing deadline after deadline and not really caring about how far behind I was getting. Added to that is the fact that I missed every single deadline during the year too. This was my final year, I should have been busting a gut trying to get the best possible marks and instead... I avoided all the hard work and my friends and piled on the weight.

So, I had a meeting with a lady from the Arts faculty in the my University and she scared me (she was very nice but...)... she really did scare me. I thought that I could just officially de-register and then repeat, suffering through the extra year and the loss of €5,600. I was wrong, results are capped at 40% in a repeat year... that makes repeating POINTLESS. :( If I hadn't been depressed before hearing that I definitely was after!

That's right, I said depressed. It is true. It is so strange to say it on here, considering I have scoffed at the notion of me being depressed every time it was raised by my parents and sister over the past 18 months. They would ask and crying I would say no, vehemently! I would argue with them through tears and say "I'm just feeling a little down". I ignored it for as long as I could and I honestly never put two and two together; my apathy towards college and my feeling blue, seemed like separate issues to me. As did my inability to stick to any diet or even plan of action I came up with. It is amazing that I didn't see the connection, I pride myself on being a clever girl and yet the most obvious thing in the world escaped me.

When  I left the faculty lady's office, I was in bits. I had already arranged to meet with two of the lads from college for a coffee, this was a mistake... all I wanted to do was go somewhere private to cry. The lads were very little help, maybe it is because they are the sort of boys who are less than comfortable with emotional displays or maybe I just wasn't ready to talk. I wasn't overly emotional at that point but any proper conversation on the topic would have led it some outpouring.
I left fairly quickly and got the bus straight home, the No.8 never comes quickly but that day it did :) I arrived home and my sister and my dad were having coffee in the sunshine in the garden. I sat down with them because I knew I had no options. Dropping out of college (for the second time) means one is required to answer all sorts of questions you would normally find ways to avoid. I am excellent at being evasive but this time I had no choice. When my sister asked me tough questions I just had to answer... for the first time crying and just asking to be left alone didn't work. I had to fess' up.

They made me promise to go to the doctor the next day.

For once I didn't totally reject the idea. Talking to my sister made me realise that really this wasn't all bullshit. Feeling the way I had/have been feeling isn't the way I used to feel. Around 2006 I was like a totally different person, I was so much happier then. So I decided to go to see the doctor first thing on Thursday morning. I avoided all of the questions that they asked me at home about what I would say to the doctor. I am totally not comfortable talking about this stuff with my parents (or even my friends until now). But yesterday I was ready to let it all out.

So I went to see our family GP. He is an elderly man... I should have known that talking to him was a bad idea but I was afraid to back out. I thought that they would kill me at home for avoiding my responsibilities (AGAIN). So even though I was so nervous that I was literally pacing up and down in the waiting room, when he rang the bell for me to enter, I did.

I was so nervous though that I possibly didn't express myself very well. In any case, my doctor told me that everyone feels down every now and again and that I shouldn't worry too much about it, then he told me it was probably my HORMONES. What the fuck like! If a man is depressed and has the guts to admit it he gets a pat on the back when a woman does, it must be her fucking hormones. I wanted to slap him but instead I just cried harder. I left fairly quickly after that, after paying €50 for the privilege.
I cried all the way home but thankfully because of the sunshine I had sunglasses in my bag, so I could hide behind them. I got in the front door and had a fit of hyperventilating, tear-y snottiness.

I don't know what I am going to do next. That experience with the doctor really put me off getting help. I was ready to talk about it then but not really any more. I felt he just didn't take me seriously.

I met my two closest friends for lunch and after around three hours of chatting we got around to talking about me and I told them everything. They were so much more helpful than the stoopid doctor. They told me to cop on and stop being so hard on myself. I know I don't sound like I am being hard on myself here but in person (and with people who know me) I really am. I ignored it for so long because I think that this sort of problem comes from within and so it should be fixed from within too. I never would have gone to the doctor if the whole situation with the college hadn't forced my hand and now I wish I hadn't bothered.