I created this blog more for myself than anybody else. It might be a place where I will vent my feelings, or it could be the place that I write all my stories, I don’t know myself yet what it will become. I’ve never known what decisions to make, whether they are large ones like deciding if I should go to university or not or small ones like whether I want marmite on my toast.
I’ve been confused and indecisive for years now, changing my mind on what job I want to do when I “grow up” probably about three times a week, but when I started the sixth form just over two years ago now, I didn’t realise how much hassle this could cause.
To cut things short, I decided to study A-levels I was good at rather than ones I enjoyed. By Christmas time, I realised what a mistake this was, so I stopped listening, stopped learning, and decided to chuck two of my three A-levels down the drain. Shit.
So the following September came, and I re-sat year 12 and instead took up two BTEC courses I thought I would love. However, another barrier seemed to get in the way this year as I was struggling to get out of bed in the morning. I was missing days and days of school, all because I was “tired,” so finally myself and mother took action, and a trip to the doctors was arranged.
Finally, after what seemed like months of waiting, it was finally time for the appointment. What I was unaware of was that this would be the first of many trips to the doctors to find out why I was so “tired” All. The. Time.