The plot thickens.

So my whirlwind to get to university was crazy. I had so much to do. I organised my student finance as quick as possible, but the accommodation was going to be harder. There was no way I was going to get into halls, so I started contacting local churches in the area to see if anyone wanted a lodger. Luckily someone did! I also had to organise a store transfer from where I worked (this is what took the longest).

I found a place to live, I was going to move in with a christian family with 3 kids (although one was going to uni herself so I would only be living with the two younger siblings and the mother).

My first day was the most daunting. I also thought I was mental, considering I was sick of Sixth Form by the end of it, I had just signed myself up for another 3 years in education. What was I thinking?!

Over the next few weeks I met some lovely people and made some great friends. The course was okay, it wasn’t what I expected, and to be honest it was pretty overwhelming. But I kept plodding on, just going with the flow. My uni experience was quite different from the norms you hear about. In my 3 months there I went out twice. Yep you heard it, twice. In the first 2 weeks we all went to Brighton, and this was my first ever experience of going out since I had turned 18! (I had turned 18 6 months prior to attending uni). So after my first night out I was thinking ‘Is this it?’ this isn’t exactly exciting, people pay loads of money to do this every week?! I’m really not into the party scene as you can tell. The second time I went out in the Local town, which wasn’t exactly happening either.

After a while I started to feel really different to other people,  felt like I didn’t fit in. Don’t get me wrong I had lovely friends, but I just wasn’t into the whole ‘Let’s go out, get drunk, miss the last train home and either miss the lecture/ be late to the lecture, or have a hangover for my lecture’. Not my scene at all.

I was texting my other friends who had packed themselves off to uni to find out how they were getting on with it. I instantly regretting it after I received lots of exited replies on how much they were loving it. This made e feel even worse. The friends that I had had for years was having the time of their lives and there was just me. The odd one out. The only person not enjoying it (that’s what it felt like anyway).

A few months in I then had some stuff go on in my life which I wont divulge in, but that’s when I pretty much hit rock bottom. I wouldn’t go out. I would dread waking up in the morning knowing I would have to go to lectures that I really didn’t want to go to and I really wouldn’t understand. I didn’t want to be surrounded by loads of people that were having the time of their life, that were talking about all the antics they had got up to the night before. I didn’t want to feel alone. Over th next few weeks my mum received a lot of phone calls from me. Mainly me sobbing. With that my aunt and cousins came to visit me, so did my grandparents. I even when home a few weekends. Nothing made me feel better. When I went home it made me feel even worse. I would get to the train station to go back to uni and just start crying and crying. It was horrible. Every time I called my mum told me I could come home I didn’t have to stay. I told her I would stay at university until Christmas to see if I had settled in by then.

It finally got to the stage where after one hysterical phone call with my mum she said that I should really think about dropping out. I didn’t have to stay somewhere that was making me miserable, and she was starting to worry about me, and that it wasn’t good for me to be this upset. For most people you would think this would be a relief. But i’m the type of person that hates letting people down. How could I leave the family I was living with? How could I just leave the university? I was also a bit scared because only one other person on my course had left, and I didn’t want to be like that.

But I had to.

To be continued…


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