If things are so bad that I can't even bring myself to rant, said things must be mind-bogglingly bad.
So, what's happened on Planet Kelza since my last post?
I mentioned that my Auntie Sue had taken very ill after treatment for her brain tumour had been unsuccessful. Sadly, she passed away about two weeks after my post was made. Another two weeks after that, my Auntie Sharon took ill as well, also with cancer, and she passed away after a short illness.
There was a touch of family drama regarding Sue's funeral - Dad wasn't able to make it due to our rubbish car and Graham accused him of not wanting to fork out a tenner for petrol. In a baffling twist, the whole family car-pooled to Sharon's funeral later and Graham was totally fine with Dad. Not an apology, but not being a jerkass either. It was as if the whole dispute had never happened. So... er, I don't know. Maybe someone had words with him. Or maybe, during one of his long trucker adventures across Europe, Graham had a revelation and decided he'd been a cretin.
Mum and my stepdad had a car drama of their own when some idiot in a work van rear-ended them at high speed on the M1. Thankfully they only suffered whiplash – had they been driving a smaller car (theirs was an estate), or if there'd been someone in the back, or if someone had been driving in the next lane, the consequences could have been tragic. It was a frightening day, trying to keep my sisters in check while they were in hospital being checked over. Shannon especially was in a state over the whole thing.
I say the last four months has been hard, but Christmas was bliss. Coming back through John Lennon Airport and seeing Jason's face for the first time in months – I've never experienced anything like that before, never had another person so happy to see me. It was absolutely incredible. Holding him was even better – for months I'd just had his voice for comfort, the one picture of him stuck up on the wall so his face was the last thing I saw at night and the first in the morning, and the memories. I will never forget what it felt like to hold him that day.
The next day, we were up in my room talking. He told me that he had another present for me other than the jewellery box and the saxophone lapel pin. Then, he stood up and rummaged around at the bottom of my bed, picking up a carrier bag that had another bag inside it – a glossy bag from Warren James, the jewellers'. Inside that, a box; my immediate thought was a bracelet, maybe, or a necklace. Earrings crossed my mind but he knew my ears weren't pierced. I opened the box and my heart nearly stopped.
“Is that what I think it is?” I asked. And he smiled. This was inside it...

Of course I said yes. I still can't imagine a future where I'm happy with anyone else. The thought of being with another person actually makes me feel nauseous. By some crazy stroke of luck (Jason doesn't know my ring size and I have bizarre fingers), the ring was a perfect fit.
We won't be getting married for a long time, but I'm fine with that. As long as Jason and I love each-other, we don't need to declare it to the state.
The last bit of news from Planet Kelza is probably the most embarrassing. Homesickness was the main factor in the last four months being so tough, and things got to the point where I decided to call university a day and come back to England. I was doing well at university where grades are considered – I was getting a high 2.1 on average with minimal effort – but my heart just wasn't in it. I wasn't focused on my work – my daily goal was getting through the day because another day down meant a day closer to the holidays – a day closer to the time where I could be with my friends and my fiancé. I couldn't have a social life because of the limitations of living so far away from Belfast, so I spent my time just sitting at my laptop, watching TV or crying. It was probably the lowest low point I've ever had.
So I'm back and recovering. I don't regret the act of leaving university... I just feel guilty that I've let people down. That's my main issue. Sometimes I've hated myself because so many people had expectations of me, that I was going to go to an excellent university and do great things, but I let depression get the better of me. On the other hand, I know now that, had I stayed, my mental state would have gotten worse and worse. And then there's the stigma in this country attached to being an unemployed university dropout... I feel like a waste of space sometimes and I loathe the idea of returning to the dole queue, but unless I can find work that's where I've got to go because there's no way Dad can continue to support me.
I did go through a bad patch shortly after I came back where my head was all over the place. I didn't feel like doing anything, I spent three consecutive days just crying my eyes out and not knowing why – I went into survival mode and essentially 'sleepwalked' through the days and through my relationship with Jason. I was robotic. But things are getting better now; I'm eating well, trying to keep busy (reviving this journal is a part of that), and soon I shall start to look for work. At least that way I shall be an employed university dropout!
Just to finish, I do plan on going to university in the future; probably somewhere a bit more local. Salford seemed particularly keen to have me to the point where I was postal spammed with letters begging me to attend, so perhaps there. And even though Queen's didn't work out – well, at least I proved I had what it takes to be accepted at a Russell Group university!
Comment Form