…the reason why I want to study Journalism at university is that I love journalism. Or should I say… I “loved” journalism. Right up until about… a year and a half ago.
Why? What changed me? Well… depression changed me.
And now I’m sat here, in my bedroom, trying hard not to cry because I’ve spent the past five hours trying to write a personal statement that’ll ‘sell myself’.
But that’s the problem, you see. I can’t. I can’t do it.
I know that you’ve probably got thousands of personal statements to mark. But please bear with me a little while longer, once you understand why I can’t sell myself.
Picture being in my shoes. I’m 18. I have no social life. I have no girlfriend. I have one of the deadliest diseases that convinces me that I’m the worst person alive and a failure 24-fucking-7. I take antidepressants to stop me punching walls. I have suicidal thoughts almost every day. I can’t even cope with college, let alone uni.
So how on earth can I sit here and say “oh please pick me, mister, I’m the greatest student in the world”? I. Fucking. Can’t.
I’m sorry. I needed to get that off my chest.
But if there’s any consolation, I did get a week’s work experience working at a local publication, which enabled me to experience…
I look at myself in the mirror.
Or at least, I think that’s me?
I don’t know anymore.
This person looks emotionally drained,
With bags under his eyes,
Dilated pupils – like a deer in headlights,
He stares into the abyss for a moment,
Until your eyes meet with him.
That flicker of confusion and terror plastered on your faces,
Will stay with you forever.
It’s like you’ve both seen a ghost.
A month ago (I think it was a month ago, I don’t know anymore), I wrote a piece on my blog called “Starting Again.”, where I basically said that things were great, and I felt like I’ve improved.
I had so much optimism that things were getting better. That I was getting better.
Except… things haven’t really gone that way. I’ve probably got even worse.
If I’m being completely honest, this is the probably the worst I’ve felt.
I can’t really find the words to describe how I’m feeling.
I guess you can say I’m struggling…? I don’t know anymore.
I’m sorry. I really wanted to not make any more of these posts anymore, the depressing shit that I get off my chest. But…
I don’t know what I’m saying anymore.
I should probably stop now.