Success Of The Saved.


Today I want to talk about how we perceive success, because it’s becoming quickly apparent that it isn’t a mutually shared feeling and differs between individuals. I started University only seven days ago and it’s been a roller-coaster of feelings already, from the depths of my darkest depressive episodes to the highs of brand new socialising with brand new people, it should be a loved and honourable experience but instead the events of my life leading up to this are playing heavily on my mind, all the nights my mother made me feel worthless, the day my father left because of her, the sense of homelessness I felt for a long time afterwards, I was always in search of a new home rather than just a house. These events have become a part of me and I don’t know how to rid myself of them, I envy those who can simple ‘leave the past behind’, though I doubt they actually do, the anxiety of a previous life coming to bite you on the ass is a real and formidable fear.

But since being in this magical place of Manchester I’ve witnessed fights, drug taking and the kindest people I’ve ever met (and that’s only in my shared house). My issue resides in my room, the moment I spend any time in here all of the past memories of terror and fear creep out from under my head and drill themselves into my head, ready to reek havoc through out the long nights and husky mornings. What I want from this is at least an inkling of how to get over the things that have happened to me, my body is only now processing them as I believe I’ve spent the last three years in a shell of my former self, trying to protect the core aspects of my personality and sanity and that I was in a sense just surviving, now however, with the opportunity to prosper my mind and body have rejected it, almost like a heroin addict when they switch to methadone. Which I understand is quite a statement but it’s just the one that has a literal feel to the metaphorical situation.

So when will things look up? Next week when I get my teeth into Zoology undergrad? Or ever? I honestly don’t know. What I can say is that I’m not giving up, my body can repulse and convulse if it feels the need to do so, I will make the most of my time in this place, this place where dreams are made and come true, this place where people come to better themselves, this place where teacher and student are more equal then ever before. This is a safe place, far away from the issues and confines of my old home but unfortunately I will just have to learn to live with the throbbing scars left by them because I’ve yet to find a way to resolve them.

This has been another depressing instalment on Aran The Entomologists blog, hope you’ve enjoyed it and that you never feel the same way. I’ll keep you updated as this new adventure powers on.


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