theunmakingofme

[theunmakingofme]

Log 05: Sleep Paralysis and Other Things I Couldn't Fight Off

I don't even know where to start. Somewhere between the bottom of the bottle, the wrong bed, and whatever the fuck I picked up from breathing the same air as Camden - I stopped being okay.

This week has been one long sprint to nowhere.

Boxes half-packed. Bank account gasping.

Smiling through a leaving do where no one really saw me go. Another pint. Another face. Another birthday I don't have the energy to attend.

I slept with someone I didn't really want. Not because I was craving it. Not even for attention. Just... too tired to say no. Too drunk to push back. He invited himself. I let him.

There's a difference between consent and resignation, and my body knew the latter. I haven't felt quite right since.

I'm sick now.

Not metaphorically

Not in the poetic 'sick of it all' kind way-

I mean: aching bones, sore throat, breath shallow, skin not-cold. Sleep deprived. Immune system fucked.

Woke up in sleep paralysis again and felt hands that weren't mine. The thing. The pressure. The whispering. The weight. One night, it told me not to get up. Another, it told me to get the knife. I didn't. But I didn't say no to that either. I just waited for it to pass. Like I wait for most things.

I can't keep burning like this. I know I'm supposed to be moving. Supposed to be packing up, cleaning out, preparing for the next thing. But all I want is a dark room, a real meal, and a break from pretending I'm not falling apart.

This isn't a cry for help.

This is a status report.

🐕 Totem: The Stray - Dragged too far. Still wagging the tail out of habit.

🎧 Music: Classic Rock playlist at the bar

🖤 Mood: Sick. Spent. Flatlined.

💬 Thoughts: I'm not quite sure how I'm going to pull through this double shift... I'll do it anyway.

[theunmakingofme]

Log 04: The Withdrawal

The last couple of days have been... shifting. No other way to put it. On Monday I handed in my notice at work. By Wednesday, I finally found the nerve to send the email I'd been dodging for weeks- my withdrawal from university. I guess I've pulled away from two lives at once.

Soon I'll be packing my things, leaving the flat, the bar, the lectures - and trying to shrink myself from a city-sized life back into the outline of a small-town girl. It's going to take some adjusting.

Honestly? I felt relief. London's a beast- soul-sucking and relentless. I don't hate it. I just don't have anything left to give it. I crouched by the tube station after work, stuffing way too many free papers into my bag to wrap the fragile bits of me that still need moving. Maybe that's what this whole thing is- trying to protect the softer parts before the next break.

Now that I've handed in my notice, every shift feels heavier. I'm slower. Less sharp. But I think that's a normal thing, right? Knowing you're on your way out makes you less inclined to sprint through the fire.

I froze my gym membership too. Right now, even that small sense of rhythm feels like too much. Honestly the pain was the only thing that still made me feel anything. Dopamine disguised as punishment. Some primal ache I could channel into something useful. And now that's been taken too - even if I was the one who took it.

I'm not usually anxious. I've always prided myself on that - being steady. Calm. But after I hit that send on that email to the university, I deleted everything. Three years of notes, effort, identity - gone in one breath. And I felt it. Properly felt it.

I won't say it was for nothing. I learnt how to live alone. How to cope. How to find myself in a city that didn't know I was there. I picked up skills, sure. Academic ones, survival ones. But I never belonged in that world- not completely.

Now? I'm just trying to find a space that fits. A life, not a place, where I can say, yes- I could stay here. But I've always been restless. Commitment's never been my strong suit.

And here's the contradiction- Once I fixate on what's next. That's it. Tunnel vision. Ambition's a bastard like that. It's wrecked me over and over, but it's also what drags me to my feet each time and says, "Come on. There's something else."

🖤 Mood: Contemplative

🎧 Music: Everybody Wants To Rule The World - Tears For Fears

💬 Thoughts: I've got to buck up my ideas and get on with packing my life away.

🐍 Totem: The Snake - Shedding away the last bits of me. Preparing for change.

[theunmakingofme]

Log 03: A Dull Wedding

Work again yesterday and again today. The infamous 'clopen' all hospitality staff do here and there. Mildly illegal.

Yesterday we hosted a private event for a wedding reception. It was alright - I'd like to think at my wedding reception some day in the future that all my friends would get absolutely pissed for future blackmail material.

This wedding... anything but. They had a DJ- yes. I can't really imagine dancing sober though all night. Pretty exhausting close too. Putting everything back where they belonged.

Tough on one of my colleagues. He lost his dog mid-shift. Passed away as he heard from his family. It's not like losing a human, I suppose. Animals - dogs mainly - are capable of something so rare and unique. It's called unconditional love. Every action has a consequence in society, but with four paws and floppy ears - the line gets blurred.

Hope he's doing okay.

Currently on a double shift. Had an argument with a customer over pancakes that we do not serve. I'm no conjurer but wit is my best friend.

🖤 Mood: Pretty tired.

🎧 Listening to: The bar's classic rock playlist.

💬 Thoughts: 'I hope my bartender doesn't mind me fucking around on the laptop while it's quiet in here.'

🐕 Totem: The Stray - Not mine to carry, but I carried it anyway.

[theunmakingofme]

Log 02: When Rest Tastes Like Guilt

My first proper entry after my introductory post...

Today hasn't been the brightest. Cancelled a shift from a bar job today at another venue. Not necessarily a mistake... a harassment incident - on my day off. So I made the decision to not work there today and report to head office. Unfortunately, these incidents can be fairly common in the hospitality industry - bit of guilt about cancelling with such short notice.

This is the ugly I was talking about in my pinned post.

On the flip side - I had my day off. Well needed. Ordered a takeaway, fucked around on the PC. Suppose some days isn't all about destroying myself in the gym.

Will be handing in my notice soon on an unrelated note since I'm moving from London back to the sticks.

A wise person (me) once told me that 'things always work out in the end.' I'm a very strong believer of that fact.

🖤 Mood: Tired, decisive, calmly fed up.

🎧 Music: The hum of nothing. The occasional police siren.

💬 Thoughts: I set a boundary and didn't apologise for it.

[theunmakingofme]

This Isn't a Self-Help Blog

I don't exactly know what this blog is yet.

It's a venting space. A war journal. A graveyard of past lives.

I failed vet med. I work behind a bar. I'm training for the Army. I've been in pyjamas one day and doing mid-thigh pulls the next. I don't know who I am.

But I do know who I'm trying to become.

Some of this will be soft. Some will be absolutely unhinged. Some of it might be ugly. It's all me.

This blog isn't supposed to be pretty, or motivational. It's not curated with healing aesthetics. It's late night shifts, cracked hands, gym sweat, messy sobbing in bed and dreaming about a war I haven't even fought yet.

It's called the Unmaking of Me - because everything I thought I was? That's gone.

This is what's left. This is what's next.

Don't follow me expecting healing arcs and self-love affirmations every day.

But if you want something honest - stick around.

💬 Ask box is open (maybe.)

🗂 Featured tags live in chaos below.

☕️ Fuelled by caffeine, spite and whatever playlist ruins my day.