29th September

Today is the 29th September.
Would have been my grandmother's birthday. Nearly burst into tears on the bus yesterday when unexpectedly my music player played the piece we had at her funeral 15 months ago. I feel bad for not missing her huge amounts, especially as I ended up in such a bad place after my other grandmother died (was the catalyst to me going weird the first time).
It also means 6 years since a girl in my town killed herself. I didn't know her, but my friends at the time did - they all went to primary school together. I was suicidal at the time and really struggling, but I had to cope with the emotions of friends who were distraught. Because it is the same day as my grandmother's birthday, I always remember it.

Aaand, I have orchestra at my old school tonight. I have to walk past the place where my friend (who used to meet me to calm me down before entering the school building) burst into tears on me that morning. Sometimes I hate living in this town, too many memories for anything to ever be a fresh start. The bus trip I did yesterday to get to the city took me over the place I was talked down from by an old lady from church (she happened to be passing so stopped) and taken to hospital.

I'm thinking of all these things which will be better when I move away. All these things I'll be able to do in my "gap year that is only 9 months" which will start in 54 weeks.


Today, my tutor for one of my courses emailed to tell me my score for the final assignment. It simply said:

Hannah
Final Assignment
100%
Not bad!
Peter

Apart from proving I probably can get the first/distinction at the end of this year I'm aiming for, it feels like I've settled. Got the routine right, got the technique right, settled into second year BSc maths. It is only a percentage, but it is OK. Problem is, in 16 days I won't be a second year BSc mathematician. Well, unless I drastically fail my exams. But *positive thinking* I have no evidence to suggest I will. *nods in an unconvinced manner*


A day of emotions. Of realising what life is, namely not forever. Of realising how close I came to not being around. Of realising that situations change. Of realising that I'm here, I'm around, I'm OK at maths, even dare I say it just "I'm OK".
Last night I had a wobbly night, which resulted in not huge amounts of sleep and other stuff. However, it is OK. It is only the second wobbly night I've had this entire year, the other one was the day before my birthday back in June. Wobbly nights have a tendency to kick start feeling more able to cope for some reason.


Yep, 29th September. Time to play some piano, eat some food, go the final orchestra practice before next week's concert. Then drink. Not to oblivion, but instead to a suitably numb and soporific stage. Should be possible...