My mother is offended by the fact that I’m miserable when I come home. She’s just gone on and on for ages about how I never do anything when I’m here, that I just stay in bed and when/if I do get up, all I do is mope around. I’m not even going to deny that this is true, because this place makes me absolutely fucking miserable. I don’t feel like I have a reason to get up.
The friends that I have here are either knocked up and/or spending all of their time in their local(s) (pubs) and I don’t want to be a part of that. I don’t want to have a baby at 20, get engaged and live in a house in Retford. It’s not something I’ve ever wanted. It doesn’t mean that I think I’m better than my friends, it doesn’t mean that I look down on them, it just means that I want something more for myself. Is there anything wrong with that?!
If I had any money right now, I would get a train back to London tomorrow. Blah, I feel so dramatic writing all of this. I don’t like drama. I’m the most chilled out person ever, I get so annoyed when people try to disrupt my nonchalant disposition. Ugh whatever, I have another 10 days left until I can leave this place, then I’ll be surrounded by my friends again and back to my usual happy self.
Think positive, Kyshia
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