I’m nearing the first year of university after having taken a gap year to sit all my exams that were interrupted by covid. I spent countless hours studying whilst everyone else in my year accepted teacher-assessed grades and took whatever uni offer they were given. 

I had my eyes set on this one high-ranking uni in London, that I had been dreaming of attending ever since I was able to apply. Fortunately I was able to best the expectations of a low-tier college that my teachers assured me I’d end up at, and I aced my exams and got accepted, losing some friends from home in the process, because I’d had less time to hangout.

I was ecstatic to begin after all the work out in and isolated lifestyle. But since I arrived I’ve never been more miserable and depraved in my whole life. I wake up and sit and the foot of my bed, wondering why I decided on this.

At the start of the year things were ok; I hooked up with a few people and went out clubbing with a bunch of friends I’d made in the first week. A long time has passed and I haven’t done anything to make feel accomplished, happy, or even accepting of my reality. I frequently miss lectures, only have 2-3 friends that I see once a week as if it’s therapy, I’ve lost a ton of weight, started drinking more, smoking and taking diphenhydramine pills in excess at night just to be knocked out as long as possible, so I don’t have to confront the idea that I’m wasting my time during the day.

The worst part is that my parents and remaining friends from back home all assume my life is perfect, that I have a huge troupe of buddies, that I enjoy my course and university life, and that my love life is saturated and full of experiences, in fact I’m still pining over a short relationship with a girl who only wanted to sleep with, then discard me.

I don’t want to tell anyone that I’m having a shitty time, I don’t think anyone would ever believe me. It takes more than 6 months to be allocated a place in therapy sessions at my uni wellness hub, stupidly I started paying for private therapy in compromise of food for the first few months, now I’m kinda wanting to eat properly so I’ve terminated that rapport.

I had a nice vision of what my life would be like when I started, because my gap year felt like a test, and this would be the reward. But there is no test, or reward, it’s just a punishment that’s been renewed.

Sorry for the long post, thank you for reading and have a good day.