University and studying is tough for anyone but when you have a mental illness it makes it twice as hard. Planning to study is difficult when your day and what you will achieve is already effected by what mood you wake up in. I can’t get out of bed. How the hell am I going to study?
When you finally get the strength to study, things are going good but then you hit a brick wall when you don’t understand what the text means. And then of course that familiar voice in your head that puts you down and tells you how stupid you are. You try to ignore it several times and continue reading but the words become even more jammed than before. That frustration builds up on you.. you’re frustrated at yourself you’re frustrated at this stupidly slow computer you’re frustrated at this word you can’t pronounce. If you don’t catch it soon enough and walk away it can lead to bursts of anger and self harm. I’m stupid. I can’t do this. I’m worthless. I hate myself. I might as well die.
Part of you tells yourself to pack the whole thing in. Fuck it. Fuck all of this. But then you think of all the people you will disappoint. The sounds of the disappointment in their voice. And then you let yourself down. You feel ashamed.
You’ve spent so long running away that now you want to be strong and prove to that bad voice that it’s wrong!
I’ve learnt as a student to take breaks, yes a lot of breaks. To allow yourself to sulk. To cry. To sleep. And always talk and ask for help if you are struggling. To ask people time and time again to read that fucking passage of text to you
And then you get it
And you write about it
And then you submit it
And it’s done
And then you get your first class!
And that bad voice gets a little quieter.