Saturday, 28 March 2009

Truly Nothing Special.

Everything’s gone grey. My least favourite colour. Not even the nice, soft grey that I can tolerate. More the unappealing grey that comes with an outline-blurring, image-distorting mist. It’s creeping over my brain, it’s saturating it and I’m starting to lose myself in the haze.

In the past few months, things that I once found easy or fun to do have become so laborious and difficult that I no longer see why they're even worth the effort in the first place. There’s no drive anymore. Not for drawing, nor blogging, nor working, nor driving, nor even making conversation. I’ve no energy to spare on little things.

Twice in the space of the last three days I’ve almost convinced myself into taking the day off school because never getting out of bed again feels like the best idea I’ve ever had.

The more these days wear on, the more I’m sure it is.

People are starting to notice and comment on how introverted I’m becoming, or how I “constantly” look down or how I’m “constantly” distant or how I "constantly" put myself down. Ironic really as this just makes me feel worse than I probably already do. Ironic too that the word “constantly” is used by them so much. It’s so far from what’s going on that it’s almost laughable. Nothings constant with me anymore.

You’ll find me some days in the library, wearing that smile that makes my face look like a football. I’ll be the Jemma that everyone knows. The Jemma who is madly in love. The Jemma who enthusiastically draws up plans for giant Slip n Slides that involve starting from the roof of her house, to crossing several roads before ending with a complementary doughnut in a park several hundred metres away. She’ll be completely up for building it and doing the first test ride and she’ll make a joke with reference to your mum last night because she just can’t help herself.

Other days you’ll find me sitting in the library, not saying a word. I’ll be the Jemma that confuses people. The Jemma who despite how hard she tries cant make the effort to hide how she feels with the football face smile or crazy idea. She’ll sit there straining her ears whilst she stares in space. Her paranoid thoughts will kick in. Are they nearby? Are they listening to our conversation? Do they hate us? Are they laughing about us? She confuses herself over who “they” are in the library, and she’ll want nothing more than to take cover in the shadows so that no one will notice her and she wont have to deal with it. She’ll desperately want an offered hug because he makes her feel safe and loved, but she’ll refuse for fears of drawing attention to herself. She'll hate herself for this. She’ll do anything to stay invisible. She'll get irritated, even angry, if she can't.

And so it has been going. Rocketing on an extreme high one moment, then plummeting down so fast the next that I cant keep up. I can’t deal with it. It’s got to the point where no longer know how to react in situations, I cant predict my reactions, I cant take things in my stride. I’m paranoid all the time, flipping between happy and sad. It’s relentless and so, so tiring. It’s overwhelming me.

I hate boring you all with my self indulgent wittering and going on. I know for a fact I’ll read this post in the morning, hate it, delete it and replace it with a 6 word one that has more relevance. If you read my blog you'll have noticed that my posts are becoming few an far between anyway, and even when they do appear they are nothing more than a few meaningless words or a worthless photograph. I've been trying, I really have, but I can’t do it anymore.

I’ve lost my direction and so too has my blog, so I guess this is goodbye. I think I need to take some time out and get my head straight. This is only going to get worse if I do nothing about it.

Thank you for your comments and ideas over the past year and a bit, you’ve all made my day at one point or another and encouraged me, which is something truly special.

Thanks too to those invisible readers I have, I’m sure you guys are really nice.

I’ll meet you back here if I blog again. I’ll bring cake.


David Noble said...

As a fellow teacher, I am concerned that you might not have anyone to talk to about where you are just now. If you would like to talk things through, please email me at

David Noble said...

Whoops, I didn't read your profile and assumed that you are a teacher (and I typed the wrong email address!). I hope that there is someone you can talk with.

Leigh7880 said...

You are a wonderful, gifted writer - don't stay gone too long! You are allowed to feel the blues, or more appropriate from the words you wrote, the "greys," but there is a big, giant world out there full of great things and possibilities - don't let yourself forget that.

StephenB said...

Hey Jem! Don't feel that there's nothing you can't talk about if you don't want to. I'll be here to listen whenever you want to talk. I'm not going to try and patronise you by saying everything will be fine, but if you ever do want a flaming big rant (With cake), just shout on me.

Take care :)

Jemma said...

Thank you for the lovely comments you three, they seriously mean a lot to me. :)
I'll keep you posted.

Shaun said...


I know this usually sounds patronising or insincere (at least it does when people say it to me), but I know how you feel - and feel free to correct me if I don't. It's almost universal right now, the greyness. The morale across sixth year couldn't be lower if Hitler was appointed Academy Rector. There's no energy left for work, and as shameful as this is, there's little energy left to talk to people you're not going to see that often after six months. You've considered taking days off school - I haven't completed a whole day there for weeks. I don't think I physically can. I presumed the three months between our last exams and the start of Uni would feel like limbo - I was wrong. Limbo started in June 2007, or this January, or maybe the prelims if I'm being optimistic.

But it'll be over soon. Concentrate on that and the present seems easier to tolerate. And you'll always have English. As a stressbuster I suggest getting a dartboard with that git W B Yeats' face sellotaped across it.

It'll get better! It'll all be fine, you'll see.

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