This week has been pretty monumental, bizarre and emotional. On Tuesday two of my housemates (and dear dear friends) handed in their last ever pieces of academic work: their degrees are finito, gone, done, complete. On the very same day one of these dear friends also found out that she had got her ideal job (I didn't doubt for a second that she wouldn't), so really this week has been full of celebration. Many tears have been shed (mostly tears of joy and pride, but some because we're coming to the end of an era). I really am so so proud of them for achieving what they set out to do
what seems like a life time ago three years ago, but I'm also sad, because that's what I set out to do as well. I came to university to get a degree and instead I will be leaving in a huge amount of debt, without a degree, with a gaping hole in my CV and depression. It's not really what I set out for (obviously) but life really does take you on one hell of a journey. And I think I am being honest when I say that I genuinely wouldn't have wanted to forsake this experience for anything, had I not embarked on the journey of life at university I would not have realised I am smart enough to get a first in the things I completed, I wouldn't have made such incredible friends, I wouldn't have known I was capable of not going to bed before 3 ever for an entire year yet still be able to be up at 7, I wouldn't feel comfortable going for a poo when other people are in the house, and I wouldn't have realised just how much I am capable of. Yes, I feel sad, and like I've failed and regressed to being 16 instead of 22 but I wouldn't sacrifice the friends I've made for the sake of my mental health, I feel like I've gained new members of my family and that feels pretty remarkable.
Please don't think that I have written this for sympathy or because I feel sorry for myself, I don't, I just really felt like I wanted to express some of what I've been feeling.