As a lot of people at the moment, I have the TimeHop app installed on my iPhone and I enjoy browsing through it everyday to see what my past self had been up to that date one, two, three, plus years ago. Some days I find it quite amusing, and some I cringe at how whiney I was and at the sheer number of statuses I used to post in a single day (some often went into the double digits bracket!) But then there are others that I’ve been saddened by, particularly in relation to how I felt about a relationship with my ex and even those I’d considered to be friends. Don’t get me wrong, I’m fully aware of all the stuff I’ve gone through throughout my life but re-reading past statuses from various social media sites has really left me wondering why I allowed myself to be so unhappy for so long.
Over the past few weeks I’ve been re-reading past statuses from a year ago which had all been leading up to the day my ex and I broke up, a year ago today to be precise. Obviously unbeknownst to me then, but clearly known to me reading them in the present day, my statuses on both Facebook and Twitter showed clearly how unhappy I was and that I felt alone. I’ll admit, mine and my ex’s relationship had hit thin waters to the point that we barely saw nor spoke to each other for days – if not weeks – at a time. Part of this was due to us both being in our final year of University and our busy and very different schedules clashing. It was also very evident that he seemed to be far more busy than I was, and couldn’t find the time to invest in our relationship properly. After 21 months of being in a relationship, he was the one to break it off, claiming that he didn’t think it was fair on either of us, especially me, to continue on in a relationship where there was no communication anymore. I completely agreed with this and so we parted on mutual grounds. Needless to say, I was still extremely upset and continued the rest of the day trying not to burst into tears every five minutes – my Dad even text me saying that he’d transferred £50 into my bank account to do or buy anything that would make me feel better about it all, which made me cry even more at how sweet he was. It also didn’t help the fact that I had a six hour rehearsal for a huge theatre for children production I was involved in the following week so had to force myself to be highly energised and over exaggerated. All I wanted to do was get a train back home and cuddle up on the sofa with my Mum – which is what I did the following day after another rehearsal!
I promise you, there is a point to this story and that I’m not to rambling on about ‘lost love’ or ‘the one that got away’ because that couldn’t be far from the actual truth! I’d actually known that things had not been right between my ex and I for months before we actually broke up but for some reason I couldn’t bring myself to end it. Looking back, I think it was mostly due to the fact that he had been my first boyfriend and I didn’t want the novelty of being a relationship to end. And that’s what it was, really, a novelty. I’d fantasized about being in a relationship with someone for so long that when it eventually happened at age 19 I wasn’t willing to let go quite so soon. In actual fact, the relationship began to dwindle shortly after our first year anniversary. So, for 9 months, I found myself gradually becoming more and more miserable by the day but not doing anything productive to try and resolve it. I should have ended things much sooner than they did, but you can’t change the past.
On top of this, I wasn’t in the best of mind sets during those last 9 months. I’d been suffering with depression of which one particular cause had sourced from a turbulent relationship between myself and one of my three housemates. We were very different people and our personalities were incompatible. The worst part of the problem was that we’d both already renewed our tenancy agreement to live within the same house for the following academic year. This made matters worse because I knew that I’d have no choice but to live with this person for another year, which made me hate living within that house. My other two housemates appeared to be sympathetic to my issues, as they often had their own problems with this particular housemate too, but I don’t think they fully understood the extent of the problem. Both they, and my boyfriend of the time, knew that I was suffering with depression but none of them really dealt with it all too well. But that’s another story altogether that I won’t bore you with right now. Maybe in another post.
But this wasn’t the only issue I had within the house. The beginning of my final semester of University had started and new modules were started. It just so happened that I was in the same class as one of my other two housemates for one of my lessons and we ended up being in the same work group for the semester. All I will say here is that is was the worst mistake either of us ever made. I discovered that this housemate was impossible to work with and that she wouldn’t leave problems or issues at the studio door. I feel that the fact she was given quite an important and central role within the group went to her head a bit and she took her status too far. She was unnecessarily and unrealistically demanding and if she didn’t agree with a counter argument presented to her she didn’t take it well. I bet you’ve guessed it, our ideas clashed and she did not like it. She brought all of these issues home with us and wouldn’t let a disagreement drop. She would come up to my room and ask me to do something for the group, despite the fact that I was also working on my Dissertation at the same time of the module, and when I refused or said I would do it at a later date she would lash out at me and once even told me, within the privacy of my own bedroom, every other reason why I was a shit person to work with and generally shit overall. The fact that she had verbally abused me to my face didn’t really bother or phase me, it was the fact that she chose to tell me this at home, within my own bedroom, and that she thought it was perfectly acceptable. Not only did this ruin our working relationship with each other, it also ruined the relationship we had as housemates and as friends. This choice of action on her part therefore began a dislike for not only one of my housemates, but now two of the three.
I promise you, I am getting to the important part of this post soon and that I’m not just rambling on about squabbles between girls, etc. My entire last semester of University, I was extremely unhappy, I was depressed and I tried everything I could to not be in the house or to socialise with the two housemates that I had grown to despise. To begin with, my ex and I exchanged a few texts wishing each other a Happy Christmas/New Year and I even received one wishing me a Happy Birthday too, but the civil grounds I had hoped my ex and I would be on had vanished with me discovering that he had, at some point, unfriended and unfollowed me on Facebook and Twitter. Overall, I was a mess and was counting the days until I could finally move out, finish Uni and never have to see or think of any of them again. Well, the day finally came where the final performance for the module had finished and I moved out, deleting both of my ex-housemates from all social media sites and never having anything to do with them ever again. I can’t even explain how much of a relief it was to finally cast them aside and suddenly have so much weight removed from my shoulders. It was from that moment on that I finally began to start feeling happier and that I was starting to make progress with my life.
This whole post was inspired by the image above, which was shared on my Facebook newsfeed the other day, and it really resonated with me as I thought back on the people that I have had to let go of over the past few years. More importantly though, it made me think of how much better I am because these individuals are no longer in my life and how much can really change in a year. This time last year, I was forcing back tears in a rehearsal because of a break up from a relationship that was causing me to be unhappy. A year on, I’m in a happy, healthy relationship with a guy who makes the effort to talk to me everyday and who takes time out of his busy schedule to ask how my day has gone and is genuinely interested in what I have to say. I am no longer burdened with feeling that I have to isolate myself from everyone I live with fear that I’m going to be targeted and an argument started from nothing. I am in a place where I can genuinely say that I am happy and that I’ve been making good progress over the past 7 months with my issues with depression. And it’s all been because I’ve allowed myself to remove those who have made me feel sad from my life and refuse to let them make me feel any less worthy than I am.
You shouldn’t allow yourself to be walked over by people that are supposed to be close to you, regardless of who they are or how long you’ve known them for. Do what is best for you and, if needs be, remove people that make you feel like this from your life. Life is far too short to feel trapped within yourself.
So, I finally got to the moral of the story in the end! Sorry for the length of it. Long story short, a lot can happen in a year and sometimes it can be for the best. Please let me know if you’ve ever felt like this in your life and what you’ve done to rectify a bad situation.
Until next time,