My Hopes For 2019

I entered 2018 certain that this was going to be my year. At the end of 2017, I made some major life changes, and as a result I thought that I knew everything on how to live life well. Turns out I was wrong. Obviously. For the first seven months I was probably the happiest I’ve ever been, as a teenager at least. But the last five went downhill fast, and left me realising that I still have a lot to learn. So in light of that, I’m going to list some of the things I hope to achieve in 2019 – and this time, I’m going to make it a bit more realistic.

Pass my first year of university (finally)

I was meant to finish my first year this June, but getting ill and dropping out delayed me a little. Obviously I’m thrilled that I’m still able to do my course online, and that by the end of it I’ll have a degree just like everyone else, but having all my friends finish their first year ahead of me and move on the second has made me feel like everyone else is getting on with their lives, while mine has just… stagnated. But that’ll hopefully change in 2019: I’m scheduled to take my exams in May and June, and then I’ll finally be able to move on to the long-awaited second year.

Make some new friends

One of my biggest concerns with dropping out of mainstream university was that I would not make any friends. Of course, I have all my old friends who are amazing, but meeting new people is exciting and sort of marks the fact that you’re moving on in life. I actually ended up making a total of four new friends this year, which doesn’t sound like a lot, but to me is kind of astounding. As someone who lives at home and doesn’t attend any kind of group classes, and not to mention finds it very difficult to form connections with people at the best of times, four people is huge. But actually, it kind of makes sense: I’m not good at making friends in very crowded or loud environments, because the old chronic illness kicks in and I shut down. Meeting people one-on-one or in smaller groups actually works in my favour.

Save some money

My job as a tutor is another thing that I’m very grateful for. I would find it almost impossible working shifts more than three hours in a retail job. Tutoring means I generally only do an hour at a time, and I set my own schedule. But this year I’ve been spending money as fast as I earn it; sometimes faster. Next year I’m going to try to put some aside and save up.

Do things to make my life as a disabled person easier

So I have a horrible tendency of knowing that I’m chronically ill and therefore can’t really do quite as much as everyone else, and then going and doing as much as anyone else anyway. I know “powering through” is sometimes seen as a positive thing, but it really, really shouldn’t be. It means that I get more and more ill, and at this point in the year I’ve broken down just in time for Christmas. Next year I’m going to be more organised: I’ll get my DSA (disabled student allowance); I’ll ask for special arrangements when I need them. I’ll even get a wheelchair if I can convince my parents, so that I can leave the house on a bad day. It’s just about time that I start using the help available to me.

Kiss nobody, unless I’m sure it’s the right choice

For most of my teenage years, it was often on my mind that everyone around me had had their first kiss, and I hadn’t. It made me feel like there must be something wrong with me. I desperately wanted my first kiss to happen, but I also wanted it to be with absolutely the right person. And I was very scared that I wouldn’t know what to do, if it ever did happen. Now that I’ve had it, I’m not scared anymore, and I also don’t really care that much. But I get attached too quickly, and then I get hurt far too much. In the future, I need to be much more careful when it comes to relationships, for my own sake.

Stop thinking about death all the time

I’m not really sure what I can do about this one. It’s always been a problem for me, but it’s got a lot worse recently. I’m just terrified by the thought that life is just a waiting game, and no matter what happens, it always ends the same way. It’s taking over my conscious mind: when I think about how much I love someone, it’s coupled with the thought that one day they’ll not be here anymore. When I see one of those posts online about a child beating cancer, I think about how they’re still going to end up dead. That’s probably something I shouldn’t even be writing down because it’s such a horrible thing to say, but it’s not something I’m proud of: it’s a problem with me, and it’s something that needs to change. The other day, I referred to something that would be happening in about a year’s time, and immediately followed it in my mind with “bold of you to assume you’ll be alive then.” Somehow I need to get over this mindset, and use it instead to appreciate life right now.

Understand that this year won’t be perfect

No matter how hard I try, I can’t control the future. I don’t know what’s coming in 2019. No matter what I do to make things better, there are so many things that could happen. It could be the best year of my life; it could be the worst. I could find the love of my life, or I could lose someone who means the world to me. I may come out of it a wiser, better person; or I may not even make it to 2020. I would never have predicted the way that 2018 worked out, and so for 2019, I’m not even going to try.

Love, Violet


Why I’m Not A Psychopath

Hello friends, it’s been a good long while since my last post. Almost two months. These past few months have been the worst ones in a long while for me: something not great happened and then another not great thing happened, and then another, and it’s taken me a while to pick myself up from it all. I’m not going to make claims that I’m fully recovered now either, but I don’t think I’m depressed at least, so that’s a start.

Anyway, the title of this post is a bit weird, and probably doesn’t really make a lot of sense. Why am I even thinking about this in the first place? Surely I would just know whether or not I’m a psychopath?

I’ve always prided myself on my empathy for others. It’s something that I value more than almost anything else, and even though it sometimes hurts to feel so strongly for other people, I would never want to take that away, because in my eyes it’s the only way to build a strong bond with somebody else.

So it came as a bit of a surprise when I found out that my sister thinks I’m a psychopath.

So that’s a bit of an exaggeration, I guess. She’s never told me that she thinks I’m a proper full-blown, not an ounce of caring for other people’s feelings psychopath. But she definitely thinks that I’m the least caring out of the three of us. She’s told me multiple times that she thinks I have psychopathic tendencies, just in passing comment, and then when I question her further on why, she doesn’t answer. She doesn’t even look me in the eye.

It hurts. It hurts a lot that somebody that close to me would think that of me, and worse than that, it makes me question it myself. Am I? I know that I’m not really, because the definition of a psychopath is somebody who doesn’t care about other people’s feelings, and I do more than I should. But there must be some reason that she thinks that. And that got me worried. I’m not a psychopath, but I am an extremely good liar. I use it mostly for mundane things, like getting a child’s fare for things when I should get an adult’s, but it’s not just things like that. If I want to, I can seamlessly lie about my feelings, about other people, about anything that I want. And sometimes I do.

I’m also very good at reading how people will react to certain things. This comes in handy when my friends are arguing, because I’m there to be the peacekeeper. I know what to say to get them to listen to each others’ point of view. In fact, I almost never have a proper argument myself, because I can avoid them so well. If somebody has done something to hurt me, I know how to make them feel bad about it without making me look bad too.

Is this manipulative? You could argue that it is, because I’m carefully controlling other people’s behaviour towards me. But I never ‘manipulate’ people to try and get things from them, or to hurt them. I can’t live with myself when I hurt someone. I only do it for the sake of keeping the peace, for getting them to see my way of thinking, with a little prompting.  I use it for the right reasons.

There’s another thing. There’s the fact that, when Amy was going through a very rough patch in terms of her mental health, I would stop her late night rants to me by saying I wanted to go to bed. Maybe this made her think that I don’t care. In fact, I know that she thought that, because she told me this herself many times. But I couldn’t deal with those talks. No matter what I said in response to her, she would get angry. If I gave her advice, she yelled at me because she ‘just wanted somebody to listen.’ If I nodded and listened, she’d get angry because I clearly didn’t care. If I disagreed when she told me that everyone hates her, she’d become furious because I wasn’t listening to her side of the story. Eventually, I decided that it was better to end those talks, because they always did more harm than good, and they were damaging my own mental health too. I tried to help her in other ways, through actions: I talked to our friends to make them aware that she was struggling, so that they would be supportive and show that they didn’t hate her. I took her out, organised meet ups, anything I could think of. But of course, she didn’t know that. I don’t blame her for the way she acted, because she was struggling, and when you’re struggling it can be hard to see other people’s perspectives. She’s apologised to me since.

But she still thinks that I’m a psychopath.

It shouldn’t get to me as much as it does. I should be assured in my own mind that it isn’t true; because I know it isn’t. It’s kind of ridiculous even to question it. I am an empath: I care about people. But I can’t get it out of my head that that’s what she thinks of me, and there’s doesn’t seem to be anything I can do to change that.

Love, Violet

Self Hatred Is Tiring

Hello all, I’ve decided to drag myself out of the void that I’ve been in for the past couple of weeks to try and give you a bit of an update on how I’m doing.

To put it bluntly: I am not doing well. A lot of shit has happened over the past few months, and my mental health has reached a bit of a low point. This is the worst I’ve been all year. It isn’t the worst I’ve ever been though, which I’m grateful for, and I’m making a huge effort to try and remember all the progress I’ve made. Because even though my brain is telling me otherwise, I HAVE improved as a person over the past year.

For one thing, I don’t take my unhappiness out on other people. I did that sometimes last year, and just generally acted really moody at home, which didn’t improve the atmosphere of my household one bit. This year, when I’m feeling really low I will go to people for comfort, but I won’t lash out. I (hopefully) won’t be a drain on them. At home I’ve been trying my best not to let my bad mood put everyone else in one too.

I also have a much better support network. Not only have I made new friends, but I’ve learned to trust my old friends enough to open up a bit to them, and to let them comfort me. I no longer go to my parents for anything, because I know that they can’t help me the way I need help. But I have a lot of people in my life who care about me, despite what my stupid brain keeps telling me.

Even so, I am tired of feeling like this. My mind has a desire to be creative, and to do things that interest or excite me, but I can’t act on it because all of that is masked by utter listlessness which I can’t shake. I can’t get excited by life, when my mind is constantly reminding me that I need to be sad right now. I haven’t practiced my instruments properly in weeks, which makes me really sad because I genuinely am very passionate about music, but I just can’t bring myself to make the effort to get better.

I feel better when I’m around people. I spent the weekend with a friend (who is currently unnamed, and for some reason I’m finding it very difficult to find one for her) for her birthday, and when I was with her I felt safe, even though I didn’t feel great overall. My cousin is staying with us for a year, and last night I watched a horror movie with her and my sisters, in which my sisters and I screamed at every change of frame and squeezed each others hands as if our lives depended on it, and our cousin laughed at us from the sidelines. Then we had a late night conversation which resulted in tears of laughter. I felt okay then. Today Eve came round, and we spent hours fawning over the kittens that I’m fostering at the moment. I felt okay then. Even when I’m tutoring, I feel okay, because all of my attention is focused on talking to and teaching the children I’m with. But as soon as I have a moment alone, my mind starts whirring, and not in a good way. No matter how hard I try to keep bad thoughts at bay, I always come back to them, and make myself miserable.

I think about how nobody likes me that much. It sounds pathetic and any of my friends would be quick to insist that it’s untrue, but there’s a big difference between liking a person because they’re decent and haven’t done anything wrong, and liking somebody because you have an actual emotional connection with them. Plenty of people like me, because I’m quite a pleasant person: I always try to be nice, I never create conflict, and I always try to take other people’s feelings into account. But that liking is only because I don’t give them a reason to dislike me. I’m not actually very interesting. I told Iris this the other day, and she immediately called me an idiot and listed reasons why I’m not boring. I have a lot of hobbies and interests. I play three instruments. I like RuPaul’s Drag Race. But none of those things necessarily make you an interesting person. Underneath it all, do I really have any more personality than I did four years ago when I had no friends?

I need to add for the record that Iris is an absolute legend and I adore her. She’s been there for me through everything that’s been going on recently, and dealt with meltdown after meltdown. She’s comforted me over the phone, over text and in person, and even had to deal with me messaging her whilst drinking way too much and making a fool of myself. She keeps saying that she’s a shit friend, but she’s got me through it all, along with a few other friends who are also angels.

So in summary: I’m not having the best time of it. I had a small period where I thought that my mental health was stabilising, but it turns out I was definitely wrong about that. I’m not sure how long this is going to go on for, but I’m making all the effort I can to try and improve, because feeling horrible most of the time really isn’t fun. I probably won’t be posting so frequently on here, although I do miss blogging. Hopefully I’ll be able to post more regularly sooner rather than later.

Until then, I hope everyone is doing okay, and if not, then I hope that things get better for you soon.

Love, Violet

Repressed Feelings

Warning: Not really sure exactly what to put here, but this post definitely needs a warning of some description. Vast amounts of self hatred, I guess.

I’ve spent this evening having a full on mental breakdown, one that is nearly two months overdue.

Why do I keep doing this to myself? Every time, I think that if I just get on with life, those feelings will pass and everything will be okay. It never is. It’s an endless cycle which I need to break. But even though I know the root of the problem, I don’t know if I’m powerful enough to break it.

I repress my feelings. I know that I do this. It’s caused so many problems for me in the past: breakdowns over unrequited feelings for people that I knew I never had a chance with. Friends thinking that I hated them because no matter how much they opened up to me, I didn’t tell them anything about myself. Running away from therapists and psychologists time and time again, because every time I even revealed the smallest thing about myself, I felt dirty. Instead, I just try to ignore whatever is bothering me in the hopes that if I do that, it will just go away (spoiler alert: it does not).

And the root of it all? I think that I’m disgusting. For whatever reason, I have for so long seen myself as a vile, grotesque human being who doesn’t deserve to feel emotions or have them listened to, because I am subhuman. I don’t feel this so much anymore, but it’s something that isn’t easily undone. Even though now I can see myself as worth something, it’s hard to shake that old, familiar feeling of just not being good enough. I don’t know what started it exactly. Maybe it’s my lifetime difficulty with making friends, when everyone else seems to do it so easily. Maybe my seven year long friendship with a girl who made it clear who was the better of the two of us. Who kept me around, but looked down on me as a slightly pathetic, not quite socially adjusted pet. Maybe it was falling for people who didn’t feel the same way about me.

In some ways I’m over it. Even though my brain keeps telling me otherwise, I know really that people don’t find me unpleasant. I have friends who genuinely really like me, and even people who I feel awkward around tend to think that I’m sweet, more than anything. On surface level, I know all of this. But then there’s the niggling voice in the back of my mind telling me that I’m ugly, I’m warped to the point that nobody could ever look at me without feeling put off. Personality as well as appearance. I don’t hear the voice much anymore. But the effects of it on the way I behave still linger.

I don’t open up to my friends easily, and it’s because of it. It’s because I can’t see how they’d possibly actually care. When I have feelings for someone, I feel so horribly ashamed that I don’t know what to do with myself. I certainly can’t tell them: imagine how they’d laugh if they knew that this hideous, pathetic creature was crushing on them. Or worse. Imagine how sick to the stomach they’d feel. So I don’t tell them; I don’t tell my friends, or anyone. Again, this has got a little better in the past year, and I’ve started opening up to people about my feelings, for them and for other people. But now it’s all starting to come back, and suddenly it’s so clear to me again: of course nobody would ever have feelings for me, not like that. What a joke. What a horrible, twisted joke.

It’s the same with therapists, I think. Any depth to my feelings and emotions has been buried under layers and layers of ‘shut up and get on with it’ and ‘you don’t deserve to have feelings’. Every time somebody tries to bring them to the surface, I panic, to the point that I start sobbing and physically cannot get the words out. Once, a couple of years ago, I went to a psychologist. I only visited her once. She asked me if I wanted to be alive. And I said too much. When she phoned my house for a follow up, I refused. My mum tried to hand me the phone so that this woman could just speak to me, and I wouldn’t take it. I never spoke to her again.

This post might be a bit shocking to read, and I am sorry about that. I’m almost shocked myself. This past year or so, I’ve seen myself as a fairly confident person, someone who doesn’t think she’s the greatest thing ever, but certainly doesn’t hate herself. It’s only when I reach the point where I can’t function properly anymore that I’ve dared to examine further, and realised that actually there’s quite a lot of self hatred left in me. I’m almost a little scared to post this, because I’ve never dared let myself voice these thoughts, and in some ways I’m afraid that if I do, other people will start seeing me differently. Maybe start seeing me the way I see myself.

But I need to post this. I need to acknowledge what’s wrong with myself, or I’m never going to get better. And that was kind of the reason I started this blog in the first place: to process things. So I’m going to post it. And I’m going to try not to regret it.

Love, Violet



I Am Busy

During these past few months, I’ve had so much to do that I have honestly forgotten what it’s like to have free time. Time when there’s nothing that I need to be doing. It’s getting a bit overwhelming.

Firstly, there’s the work. I do part-time university online, studying a maths degree. It’s excellent, because there are no compulsory lessons that I need to attend: I just need to get through the work in my own time and make sure I hand in my assignments on time. It gives me so much time to do other things. So I’ve also started another A Level, in Music.  And I have a job as a tutor. And I play three instruments. And play in an orchestra. The instruments, the degree and the A Level all have exams involved, so that’s a lot of exams.

Then, there’s my family. My family is hard work. My sisters both need a lot of support in their own ways. Marta struggles a lot to get her work done because of the chronic illness that we both have, and it almost always ends up with me guiding her through her homework step by step. Both of them need a lot of emotional support too, and unfortunately at the moment, are not very capable of giving it to each other. My parents mean well but they always say the wrong thing, and have the opposite effect that they intend. So emotional support is completely down to me. I guess I’m not complaining about that, really: I would never not want to be there for them, and if they really need me then I’m just happy that I’m able to help them.

But. Things are starting to add up.

Like I said, free time isn’t something that exists for me anymore. When I’m not teaching or in a lesson of my own, I’m getting through all the work I need to do. Homework, instrument practice, assignments. When I’m not doing my own work, I’m chasing up my sisters to see if they’ve done theirs. Then, if Marta’s up to it, I’ll sit down with her and try to break things down into simple steps so that it doesn’t seem too overwhelming for her. I try to chase up Amy too, because I know that she has a lot of issues with motivation. At one point, I even sorted through all of her notes and filed them so that she knew where everything was. But she’s been really distracted recently, and if I try to sit her down to do work with me I spend more time trying to get her to do it than I spend doing my own work.

All of that makes me sound like a huge killjoy. I’m not really that bad (I hope) but when you’ve got so much work to do that you’re drowning in it, it’s hard not to be a boring workaholic. I had university exams in September, and a combination of bad mental health and having lots of other things to do meant that I was horribly behind and in danger of failing. I had to sit down and just work for hours when I felt up to it. And every time I did, Amy would ask me to stop, so that we could do something fun together. It made me feel like a horrible person to have to say no to her each time, especially when she acted so disappointed in me, like I really was just a boring workaholic who ruined everyone’s fun. But if I hadn’t revised as much as I did, I could have failed. I needed to pass those exams.

I don’t have time for my leisurely hobbies anymore. I love to read, but my reading has been restricted to the times when I’m travelling to and from the places I need to be. I started knitting a blanket for a friend months ago, and I’m not even halfway through that. In July, I started a painting by numbers just because I felt like it, and haven’t had a moment to finish it since. I want to do NaNoWriMo, because I have several story ideas that I’ve been meaning to write down, and last time I did it I had a lot of fun. But how am I going to fit a few hours of writing into my days when I can’t even keep up with everything in them already?

After reading all that, you may be surprised to know that I actually do spend a lot of time with my friends. More than the average person, probably. But even that doesn’t always feel casual anymore. I have to deliberately schedule people in, calculating who to see at each specific time slot, to make sure that nobody gets neglected. I noticed this when on one day, Iris asked me if I was free tomorrow to help her go job hunting. My response was ‘let me check my schedule’, which she took the piss out of me for. She found it hilarious that I have a schedule to check.

I do genuinely want to see my friends, and I really enjoy spending time with them. Being around friends is actually the only time I can properly relax, because I can justify not doing work to myself when there’s someone with me. But I don’t like feeling like my friends are puzzle pieces who I need to slot correctly in to fit them into my life. I don’t like having to plan several days ahead to see someone, and often having to say no when somebody suggests a spontaneous meet-up. I don’t like going to visit people and feeling like I’m leaving my family to fall apart. I went to visit Lily in university last weekend, and Elm in college this weekend, which was absolutely lovely, but both times when I was gone, Marta didn’t get any work done and freaked out about how much she had to do. I tried to guide her through it over the phone, but it doesn’t really work when I’m not actually there to help her. I stayed in a hotel near Elm’s college over the weekend, and all the time I spent in the hotel and not at the college was filled doing music homework. Even halfway across the country, I can’t escape all my responsibilities.

I know that this isn’t really sustainable. At this point, I’m just waiting for a time when I can have a real break. One where I don’t spend all my free moments thinking about what piece of work to get done next, or which person I need to see to make sure they stay in my life. Next summer, maybe – I’ll have a few months between my degree modules and my A Level work at least. My mental health has been very up and down this past month, but overall it’s improving, and that means I’m a little better equipped to cope with everything. A few weeks ago I just wanted to disappear and do absolutely nothing for a while. To stop all my work, and even to stop talking to people without the consequence of them leaving me. I don’t want that anymore, at least. I can cope with everything now. Just tiredly.

Love, Violet

Appreciating Kindness

I spent this weekend down at Lily’s university, which she just moved into a week ago. Despite all of the issues I’ve been having with her, I actually had a really good time: and the main reason for that was her flatmates. They were all really nice and welcoming, and I left there feeling like we were friends – which is more than I can say for my flatmates that I spent a month with at my own university before I dropped out.

One of them was particularly lovely. Her face was almost identical to a girl who went to my school, which freaked me out, but she looked very different because of her bright blue hair. Her personality was completely different as well. We went clubbing on the first night, and when I told her that I’d never been clubbing and wasn’t sure that I’d be a fan, she spent the entire night checking on me to make sure that I was okay. The next night, she felt that my hands were freezing and immediately ran to make me a hot water bottle. She told me that I was really sweet and I told her the same, and really meant it. She’s one of those people who you can just tell are kind to the core. I’m a little sad that she lives so far away from me; if she was closer we might have had a chance at becoming proper friends.

On the second night, we all played a game. Well, it was technically a game anyway. Somebody had a pack of cards with deep questions on them, and we all went round answering them. It was fun, and it made me feel a lot closer to all of them (even though I’d only met most of them the day before). One of the questions was: What do you value the most? And after thinking about it for not too long, I gave what is probably the most generic answer ever: I value kindness.

Yes, I know. It’s a boring answer. Everyone else’s answers were a lot more interesting, and they probably thought mine was a bit of a cop-out. But I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately, and I just don’t think there’s anything more important. People who are kind just make the world a little brighter for everyone around them: something as simple as a smile on the street or a kind word can lift my mood no end. This blue-haired girl, who I had never met before and know very little about, made my whole weekend better just by being nice to me. Actually, I’m going to continue saying kind rather than nice. Because I think there’s a distinct difference between those two words. My flatmates at the uni I dropped out of were perfectly nice to me, and yet I still didn’t want to be around them. Nice is politeness; kind is warmth. Lily’s flatmates were warm and welcoming, and not just nice out of tolerance.

This evening I had a conversation that upset me a lot. It’s going to have to be a bit vague, because I want to keep this completely anonymous, but I tried to have a talk with someone about how she’s been acting lately, because it’s been affecting me badly, amongst other people. She told me that I’ve been acting off too. I explained to her that part of the reason for that was the fact that I’ve just been so unhappy recently that I can’t even pretend to put on a happy front for people, because it’s just too tiring. Her response? “I’m going to bed.”

It broke me a little, because this was someone who I’ve always thought really did care about my happiness. She probably does. But she made me feel like she doesn’t, and because I’m a little fragile at the moment and inclined to believe that people really don’t give a shit about my feelings, it made me break down. So I cried down the phone to another friend, somebody who I trust more than almost anyone else. And she told me that she was sorry it happened, that I shouldn’t be sorry for coming to her, and that I deserve to be listened to. That made me break down crying again, because no matter how much I try to tell myself that, I can never fully believe it. But when she says it, I do. And I appreciate so much the fact that she would take the time to comfort me, even with all of her own things going on.

Every act of kindness makes the world a little better. It reminds you that, even with everything around us going to shit, there’s still humanity there. There’s still connection. I long ago gave up the hope that humans are purely good, because so many bad things happen in the world that it’s really impossible to believe. But that doesn’t mean I’ve lost hope completely. Because each time somebody does a kind little thing for someone else, or even goes out of their way to help me, it reminds me that humans are not purely bad either. In fact, although we’re not perfect, there’s a lot of goodness there. That’s something that I really need to cling on to, in order to survive really.

So, in the spirit of this post, I want to share something kind that each person who I’m close to does, or has done, for me. Because everyone has the capability in them to be kind. Elm listens to me, whenever I need her and whatever it is that I need to say, and never makes me feel like my issues are inconveniencing her or don’t matter. Amy puts her pride aside and apologises when she realises that she’s hurt me, and really means it. Marta comes when she hears me having a breakdown or a panic attack, and holds me until it’s over. Lily told her flatmates and me that I’m the one who she always comes to for advice, and when she’s well enough to think about it, she tells me that she appreciates everything I’ve done for her. Clover did everything she could to make my sisters feel accepted into our group when she realised that other people weren’t treating them well. Hera tells me almost daily how important to her, and describes exactly what it is about me that she likes, which is something I’m unfortunately very bad at reciprocating because I’m awful with words when I need to be good. Poppy has always made me feel like she wants me around and really likes me and considers me a friend, despite having her own separate friendship group at school. Iris reminds me that she loves me and wants me to be happy, because I think she knows that I struggle sometimes to remember that. She also insists that I’m pretty, which I think is probably a huge fucking lie, but hearing that from her sometimes makes me almost believe it. Almost. Sapphire would almost literally move mountains for me and Marta (she’s very strong) to make sure that we don’t get tired out, because she’s one of those few people who actually takes our chronic illness into consideration. Selene always takes me aside when she knows that I’m upset about something, and makes me talk to her about it. She won’t let me shut it all up. At one point in my life, that was the only reason I ever talked to anyone about my issues, because if it wasn’t literally forced out of me then I felt like I was just being annoying. Eve offered to meet up with me when I asked for her advice about something, and then let me talk to her for almost two hours about that thing, in which I also ended up spilling a bunch of other things which she was very nice about. And I need to add Grace onto this, who does not yet have a description on my Who’s Who page (something I will hopefully amend soon). Even though I only met her properly about a month ago, she’s made it very clear to me that I can always come to her when I need her, and that she’ll always be there for me when I’m struggling.

That was a very long and embarrassing paragraph, but I just felt the need to let that all out. The thing that makes friends so great is the fact that having that person in your life improves it in some. No matter how close the friendship; even acquaintances can make your day a little more bearable. As someone who struggles making friends, I’ve found that the people I can most easily connect with are the ones who I don’t feel are judging me, or have something against me just because I’m a bit strange. Obviously that should go without saying, and yet it’s something that I actually have to reflect on to notice. Anyway, my main point here is that we’re all stuck in this struggle that we call life, and we all have the ability to lessen that struggle for others, even just the littlest bit. So why not do that? Whenever you can, choose kindness.

Love, Violet