I've been very anxious, the past couple of weeks. I have this thing where I tend to take one pretty minor task, and not get it done, then obsess over not having it done, then freak out about it, then panic, and in my paralysis, get nothing else done, until things just keep mounting up. I've been getting a lot better at this since I started taking the Lexapro, but I guess this term's workload is making everyone a little gibberingly crazy, on top of having to be ready for the builders coming to demolish my room, so. Deep breaths, one thing at a time, end of term in two weeks, etc.

But apart from that, I'm... I don't want to say 'okay', because that's just such a pat way of summing everything up, and I'm not really. But this morning, I woke up, and I realised that - I don't know since when, maybe a week ago, maybe two weeks ago - I haven't been mulling over the idea of just raiding my mum's medicine cabinet. Er, dramallama, I know. I'm playing the world's smallest violin for myself, believe me. But it's not that I've been all OMG *SLITZ WRISTZ*, exactly. Just that the past while left me finding fewer and fewer reasons to, well, be bothered with it all. I lost - had been losing - a big one, a really main one, at a time when I really couldn't afford to, annnd... stuff. So I haven't really learned how to be okay again, yet. I still end up crying in the toilets, I still find it hard to get out of bed sometimes. But god. Today I woke up and I wanted to live my ass off. And that's pretty awesome, right there.

There've been a couple of people who've been the most incredible friends I never knew I had, through this, hell or high water - I hope you know who you are. Or maybe you don't, and you don't know just how much simply being there has meant to me. I want to be there for you too, and one day when I have a moment to breathe, I will find a way to thank you. Because you guys have been fucking heroes.