I’ve never really done anything like this before, but when I write I find myself drifting off and rambling a bit. I apologize in advance, but please, someone spare the time to read this. I have put what little energy I have left into writing this because my life is at a crossroads and I need some advice. I’ve had a number of low points in my life, bullying, family relationships, girlfriends and losses of loved ones. The past 6 months I’ve felt like I’m slowly sinking into a state of depression and self loathing.
I’ve just turned 19 years old and am a student studying in my first year at university. I have for the entirety of my life, felt sick of myself. I am an incredibly unmotivated and lazy person if I am not interested in something I find it almost impossible to carry out any related tasks. The other day my parents asked me something as simple as replacing some light bulbs and I managed to F**K that up.
Before you read any further, I’d just like to point out I’m not looking for sympathy or reassurance. I know my life is not going the way it should be, and I need a wake up call, I need to revamp this sham I call a life.
Lets roll the clock back to primary school. I was always a very easily distracted person, incredibly. I was not popular, in fact I was borderline bullied from year 5 – 10 I would say. I came from a fairly lower middle class family initially, but my family were very good to me. They showed me a hell of a lot of love and attention. My Dad had left my mum when my little sister was born. She had a tough time, she had no qualifications and was suffering from depression and anorexia. I’d say she was a fairly clingy mother in some senses, I was her oldest boy, her and my grandmother used to give me a lot of attention and because I had a fairly awkward relationship with my Dad, me and her were very close.
My Mum is now with someone else, who she has been with for 16 or so years. He raised me like one of his own, put heaps of effort into making sure I developed into a healthy hard working young man. Unfortunateley things didnt go according to plan. At about 8 years old my stepdad brought home a Playstation 1. I remember the first time I played it, it was exhillerating and I very quickly found myself constantly playing games where I would have been doing more constructive activities. In primary school I rareley did my homework, I gained a fair amount of weight and became very unfit and lazy. But not just in body, I started to become a lazy thinker. By the time I was in secondary school I knew I was addicted to games. I didn’t care about the things most people my age cared about, like being popular, having a girlfriend. I was more interested in when the next call of duty comes out.
Every year at parents evening the teachers would say the same thing. They see potential in me but I’m too lazy and unmotivated to apply myself. These words still echo in my head and how I wish I’d listened to them. It didn’t help that I didn’t feel very socially accepted by anyone at school making me feel a bit isolated in a way. Even my ‘best friends’ who I am still friends with now, used to be very bitter and nasty. Things such as, purposeley telling me to meet them somewhere at lunch, then deciding to instead of going to meet me, go outside of school with the others and get food. As this whirlpool of problems mixed, my weight continued to rise. I had been encouraged by my stepdad many-a-time to try out a team sport or some form of activity. Sure, I went to scouts for a while, I played for the School Rugby team for a while and for a brief period even played for my local team. I didn’t feel very motivated. Because of my weight I had a lack of confidence, and this meant I found it difficult to get on with my teammates and often felt left out there too. The main reason I kept going was because I wanted my parents to be happy, but inside I felt little passion or interest.
As I grew into my later years at school, I managed to control my weight, and actually lost a reasonable amount, still a bit overweight but not as bad as I was by a long shot. In my last school year, my best friend, who I have stuck by from mid primary school, drifted away. He had managed to escape the Sh**ty world that It was to be some fat unpopular nerd. I felt a bit betrayed, me and him were like brothers and I never thought we’d stop being mates. The reason for this of course, is that he started standing up for himself. Where I had let people bully, shut me out and turn their nose up at me, one day something must have clicked for him, because he got into a fight with someone 2-3 years older than him, and he beat the living sh*t out of him. The issue for me now was that I was still being picked on by people that were associated with my friend. I didnt complain much about the bullying, as much as the schools like to think they are combatting bullying, they’re pathetic. They tell the parents how bullying has gone down so and so percent. But they don’t take into account students may not be reporting it because they know the school are useless. When I was in year 8 (so my second year in secondary school/high school) I remember sitting in maths and a bunch of loud mouthed twats at the back of the class were throwing rubbers and pens at the back of my head. Eventually I told the teacher, so what happenned? They got a warning, WOW. What about me you ask? The following day at school I found myself surrounded by a crowd of pupils my age and some above at lunch, then the original bully who had been throwing things at me came forward and tried to get into a fight with me, provoking me, pretending to go in to punch me just to watch me flinch so they could laugh over it.
I bottle up all of my anger and sadness and eventually have a breaking point where I lose it and start crying, developing almost a state of self hatred for me being the way I was. I couldn’t stand being me. Of course, this may sound over dramatic considering there are people out there in other countries who are struggling to even get clean water, but when you’re young you cant help but feel the feelings you feel. In my case, I felt so shit, I wished I could just be someone else. That maybe I could fall asleep and wake up and be a different person. Everyone gets one life on this planet, and after that its over. I’m not a Christian and I dont believe in any kind of afterife or supernautral being. I used to, when I was younger, but as I’ve grown older I’ve realised what a cruel and harsh place the world is.
The constant lack of self esteem I had obtained with the weight problem meant whenever I looked at myself in a mirror I just saw a fat ugly loser, I didnt understand why everyone around me was succeeding and I seemed to be stuck in a metaphorical pit of tar, holding me back. My oldest brother has graduated university, my younger brother is a incredibly talented sportsman, a hard worker and an all round nice guy. My little sisters are all hard workers and have bagfulls of personality. My older cousins also graduated university, my two slightly younger cousins passed their 11+ with 100% marks. Meanwhile here I am twiddling my thumbs wondering what i’m going to do with my life. My stepdad runs an airline company, something that started off struggling desperateley. Financially we were struggling to keep out house, but his hard work and devotion for a family that isnt even his blood, meant we pulled through, and now he manages a fleet of executive aircraft that fly celebrities around Europe. When I left school and went to college, my mum decided she wanted to be a chef. Now the children were a bit older and didnt need her around as much, she had more spare time. She went to college and got the maximum marks, as well as being nominated student of the year. Oh, and did I mention she also trained and ran a 24 hour marathon? Another astounding achievement.
Me on the other hand, now at college I had very little contact with my friends from school, and thought I could remake myself, I started weight training regularly, I ate healthier food, focused more on my work, although not nearly enough by a long shot. I bareley scraped by the first year at college, but it was a wakeup call, and in the second year I pulled my finger out and managed to go from a Pass to a Distinction, Merit, Merit. This meant I could go to university, something that had always been a dream of mine, and always had thought that is the way it would just be a dream.
As my college couse neared its end, I got back into contact with my old best friend. We’ve grown much closer if anything now. We’d both gotten into weight training and losing a bit of weight, and we were impressed at how one another had changed. From the first day I’d seen him in 2 years, we were back in sync like we used to be. Thing was, he was of a different crowd to me. I didnt really go out unless it was to go to college or to go round one of my few friends houses to sit and play games all night. Instantly I found myself out of my comfort zone, he invited me to the pub and he had invited a bunch of his current friends as well. I turned up a bit early, and started necking beer as fast as I could in the hopes that it might give me some courage. Some of the people he had invited were people that used to look at me like a second class citizen. I remember how nervous I had been inside. I must’ve gotten 7 or 8 beers down me when they turned up. I need not even tell you, I was off my face at this point, and boy did I suprise myself. They loved my company and invited me out again only a few days later. I quickly found myself surrounded by lots of new people and I soon stopped spending all my time playing games. I finally had a social life, something I’d desperateley wanted my entire life. But that first night at the pub, what I thought might be a step in the right direction, turned out to be the beginning of the end for me.
Within a month of going out with my new pals, I had gotten the attention of a girl in the group. I’d never had a girlfriend, but boy had I wanted one, even moreso that a social life. It was my first girlfriend and I was easily played the fool. I became much more confident in myself and life seemed to be going great. Then, four months into the relationship she cheated on me. Needless to say I was heartbroken but everyone goes through it at some stage. In a way I knew it wouldn’t last. Bare in mind despite having a social life and a girlfriend, I still felt very insecure about my weight, even though at this point I wasnt that bad. One of my biggest issues in the relationship was that I didn’t feel like I knew what girls liked. I could feel the relationship turning sour and when I found out she had cheated on me I wasn’t actually suprised. This is exactly the kind of thing that would happen to me. That short relationship caused a huge change in my attitude, I started giving less of a shit about everything, I started going clubbing 2-3 times a week, getting mashed and making new friends. All I lived for were the weekends. I smoked a lot of weed during that summer, before I went to university. I felt quite low the coming weeks before I’d left, I’d only just gotten to grasp my new friends and now I had to move to London.
When I got to university, boy did I make some poor choices, choices that I am going to have to carry for the rest of my life. I thought I would struggle to make friends, as I always come across shy and awkward around new people unless I’m drunk/high. But actually the people at Halls were so different, much more open minded than the people of my hometown. The people here were so diverse, I made friends from all over the world, I had friends from all different backgrounds. My closest friends ranged from people like Weed Dealers to Ex – Nigerian soldiers to rich people who lived in the heart of Paris, to people who came from similar backgrounds to myself. This was my first time living away from home. It was scary at first but these people make me feel so welcome that I found myself a changed man. I lost even more weight while at university and went from being 16 stone to 13 stone.
I may have gotten involved with the wrong sorts of people, but I dont like to blame other people for my actions. I make my own choices, and one of the choices I made while at university, was to do hard drugs. I do regret it. I had done a lot of research on a drug called LSD and I was so keen to understand it better. I had heard stories about it, about it changing you and making you see things in a new light. One day, the opportunity arised to get some LSD. So me and a bunch of my university friends bought a tab each and boy were we in for a ride. I cannot even begin to explain the things I saw, everything was beautiful, everything everyone said felt so true and deep and meaningful. I loved it and I’d do it again someday, maybe when I’ve gotten other aspects of my life in order first.
One thing lead to another though, and I quickly found myself dropping ecstacy pills in nightclubs regularly, I missed the buzz when I had a night in and thinking back now, I probably did have a stage where I was almost addicted to it. I just couldnt stand myself sober, the confidence I got off of drugs and alcohol made me socially skyrocket and I had gone from being a fat loneley nerd at secondary school to being a social butterfly. The only issue at this point I was having, was that I was spending too much money on leisure. About halfway through my first term, I found I had blown almost all of my student loan for the term, and still hadn’t paid my rent. The only thing I was keeping track of was my university work which I enjoyed and found pretty interesting. Other than that I was heading on a path of self destruction. I was smoking roughly a gram of weed a day and snorting or dropping anything I could try. I didn’t see a harm in it, I convinced myself I wouldnt let it go out of control and pretty soon it did. I came home one weekend about 3/4 of the way through term.
I went out with my friends I had made before going to uni and quickly discovered they too had turned to hard drugs, we’d both made the same mistakes, but when we told eachother we all smiled and thought about how good the weekend was going to be. We thought we were on top of the world, unstoppable. But we were living a lifestyle we couldn’t afford to live, and that weekend I dropped about 4 – 5 pills in one night and it broke me. I came home on the filthiest of comedowns, my parents instantly worked out I had been doing drugs, they asked to see my bank statements. They saw I hadn’t paid my rent and they saw how much money I was spending a week. I got one of the biggest bollockings of my life. And this is the person who regularly finds themself on trail by my parents, getting told I was heading in the wrong direction and I was fucking my life up. By this point, I already knew they were right, and I wanted to fix it. But I couldn’t.. I tried going back to the old ways, but staying in and playing games just wasn’t doing it for me anymore. I felt depressed when I wasnt around my friends. I’d grown so accustom to their company that when I was alone It felt eearie. Every day I’d wake up, we’d meet in one of our rooms and smoke a spliff, then go to uni, come back, do some work, then smoke the evening away.
My Dad actually had to bail me out £2100 so I could pay my rent off and avoid being taken to court. I still owe him £1600. This alone is a heavy guilty burden, up until this point I’d been fairly carefree and reckless, but it was a huge wakeup call for me. I moved out of my Halls of Residence and permanently moved back home. I had convinced myself and my parents that next term would be different. That I would set my priorities straight and focus. I decided I would commute to london from home, which would save me money. I had worked out I needed 480 pounds to get me through the term at an absolute minimum. Of course my parents werent charging me for rent and food was always in the fridge so I didnt need to buy food either. Problem was, I got this payment of 1600 pounds into my account. I’m sitting there working out that 1600-480 means I’ve got £1120 pounds to spend on whatever I wanted. On top of that I also had my money from christmas and birthday.
During the christmas break my family were going Skiing. I didn’t really want to go, I found it very difficult and it wasn’t my thing. I stayed at home as was trusted with the house. They said I could have a few friends over, but nothing over the top. My best friend had just been kicked out of his house because his mum found out he was dropping pills in nightclubs and told him he had to find somewhere else to live. I figured she’d be over it soon and I offered him a place to stay since my family were away the house felt far too quiet, some company would be nice. I quickly found myself buying a lot of weed, and inviting more and more people to come over and chill. On the 31′st, my birthday we went clubbing and I got wasted yet again, no suprise there. I went home and since tom had nowhere to stay I had always expected him to come back, but I ended up having a whole group of people stay over. A few days later, my parents returned home. I was at my Dads when they got home as I was having a late birthday meal with the family when I got a phone call. £150 has been stolen from my brothers room. Oh shit. Oh shit indeed.
I gave my brother all of my remaining christmas and birthday money leaving me slightly out of pocket. But the main problem was that my parents were coming down on me like a tonne of bricks. I felt so ashamed. My friends told me it isnt my fault and whoever took the money is to blame. But I still blame myself for the critical lack of judgement of whoever took the money. I thought I had good close friends, but infact one of them was actally a thief. I didn’t want to talk to any of my friends, I was on an all-time low. I felt like until I knew who it was, I couldn’t trust any of them. Even if I had my suspicions there was no solid evidence that it had been anyone in particular so I couldn’t sit there and decide which ones I wanted to continue trusting and which ones I didn’t. I found myself sitting in the dark in my room for a few weeks following, and I cut my wrists and arms with a blade. I’d never really understood what it is that makes people self harm. I wondered if they were hoping to kill themselves, or maybe they were punishing themself? I understand now, sometimes the physical pain is easier to deal with than the mental pain. I just couldn’t deal with anything anymore. I went back to uni for my second term on a massive low, and the only thing that could bring me up from this low was going out. So In the past 3 weeks I have been back at university. I have blown almost all of my student loan, leaving just enough for transport to university and back.
I seemed to be in a trance of living in the present. I didn’t think about the future and what would happen if I fucked up. Sure enough I made a big one. Last night, the 31′st of January 2015. One of the biggest house events in Essex was on, everyone was going. Of course I had to go, I cant seem to say no even when I’ve looked at my bank statement and seen how ludicrous my spending spree already has been. I dropped a standard 3 pills and necked as much drink as I could. During the night my phone had fallen out of my pocket and I lost it. From the moment I patted my pockets and felt that my phone was there I knew it was lost. This was a hardcore underground house event. This wasn’t neccicarily the nicest/friendliest place in town. Someone would’ve grabbed that phone within a few seconds. I checked the lost property and bars asking if they’d had it handed in. After a good hour of searching and asking around I realised it was futile. I was coming up and hard at this point and decided I had 2 choices. Let it ruin my night and get a bollocking tomorrow, or enjoy my night and get a bollocking tomorrow.
I decided not to waste my money and I continued with the night. The best night I’ve ever had out, and all the while in the back of my head I knew the next day I was going to have my arse handed to me, and quite rightly so. I managed to get home by 4pm. My parents called me into the kitchen, my stomach dropped. They initially didn’t seem too bothered. The main issue was my phone was on contract and my mum is locked in a contract that requires her to pay £30 a month for 2 years for my phone. She told me she wasn’t going to pay it if you didn’t get a new phone, and the simcards only work with Iphones, so I couldnt go and get any old cheap phone, I needed a new Iphone 5 which range from about £250-£450. Now I’m really buggered, they saw my reaction when they said they wanted me to replace it. My stepdad asked, exactly how much money do you have left? I know I’ve only got £500 or so left. I was honest, I told him the truth, although they actually believed I was lying and probably only had £100 or so left. Mum took me down to the cashpoint and made me get a statement. I brought it home. They were and still are of course infuriated at me. I’m not stuck in a hell of a situation. I am actually enjoying my uni course and getting all my work done, but now I may have to drop out because I need to buy a new phone. Besides, I can’t be commuting all the way to London and back every day without a phone. I feel like my life is on a course to ruin and the steering wheel is jammed.
Now, I have basically given a rundown of my life. It may seem fairly easy, and yes it was in material ways. I have always had food, my own room, a computer and family holidays. You see I’m not writing this because I am trying to seek some sort of sympathy. I know my life is easy and I find myself quite pathetic really. I loathe myself, you could say. I’ve let too many things pile up in life. I’ve only worked about 10 shifts in my entire life over last summer, other than that I feel i’ve sponged off everyone. My parents, my family and even student finance. I tried to keep this all in chronological order and its pretty accurate, but the point is, as you’ve read these paragraphs about my life experiences, I should be learning from them. Instead all I’m doing is getting more fed up with life. I don’t feel I have the power to take my life into my own hands, my laziness and recklessness and caused so much trouble in the house that my mum and her boyfriend actually split up for a while and I was the one to blame. I wouldn’t hold it against them because I know I’m a horrible person. Sure I’m nice, friendly and take care of my friends. But In doing so I’ve accidentally trodden on my family and treated them like mugs. I don’t know if its too late to do anything, I’ve read multiple forum posts from other people with similar issues, and a lot of them are 25 – 30 now and living on their friends couch without a job. I don’t want that for myself.
In the last 6 months I’ve developed a weird fear that seems to haunt me almost every night. I find it hard to sleep and sometimes my heart races just thinking about it. The idea that I only get one life, and after that, an eternity of nothingness. They say death is like sleeping, but we can only get a rough idea of what sleeping is like because we wake up, but being in that constant state of nothingness scares the living shit out of me. Nothing and I mean nothing can be done about that. Everything runs its course eventually. Even if in the future humans could live forever, statistically, one day something will happen, maybe a meteor will hit the earth and wipe us all our, who knows. I’m rambling, but the point is, there is literally no escape from death and the more I think about it the more it makes my stomach turn. I dont get how everyone seems to be able to accept it so much. I looked it up, and I now get why. Often people that fear death are the ones that are not living their life to its fullest.
That right there should be enough motivation to get me back on track, but I feel i’m a lost cause. I’m so fed up with life I feel like I can’t do anything to get back on track, and all the while I’m watching my family move on and grow up into nice hard working people, and I’m the black sheep. I don’t know what to do, but I desperateley need some advice. Again, i’m not looking for “there there you’ll be okay just try really hard”.. I’ve heard it enough times. I can’t change at the moment, I need to be opened up to a new perspective, maybe one that will wake me up. Because at this rate i’ll be lucky to even have a normal job by the time i’m 25. I’ve thought for most of my life that the world is against me, but it isnt. I’m against me. Everything thats happened is my own wrongdoing, my own foolish mistakes cockups and misjudgements. I am in a dark place right now, I seriously need some advice. Please please open my eyes. I don’t want to waste my only life I have.