I've recently read the news and have been stunned by it. The creator of this site, Dragoneer, has unfortunately passed away.

What they had created with FurAffinity was a community. A community of artists, writers, musicians, poets, game developers, 3D modellers and riggers, crafters, tailors, animators, a community of all sorts with this one fantastic site.

It is and still is a place to discover fantastic creations and fantastic people, some of which will become fast fantastic friends. It's a site where I felt safe to enjoy transformations and anthro stuff. It's one of the sites that got me to create Enedia's story, and one that continues her story. It's a site that gave me friends who I will forever cherish.

Without what Dragoneer had created with FurAffinity, I would have never got that.

So thank you, Dragoneer, for everything that you started. For the community you made. May you rest in peace.

My condolences to everyone who knew Dragoneer, friends and family, both in-person and online.

I don't know what the future holds for FA, but I am optimistic that it will still keep running.

It has been a while.

I was originally going to write up an update about the bastard of a year 2023 was, but I have been struggling creatively for the past few months. Nothing has really been clicking and I've been debating internally whether or not I should let this profile rest or let it continue.

It hasn't been a good start to the year. My mental state has worsened. I have slept a few days in the University rather than be at the shared house due to how unsafe I feel around the housemates. It hasn't been pleasant living, if you can call it that.

I do want to continue to draw, write and create, but I've hit more roadblocks than I have roads. I seriously feel like I'm close to throwing in the towel.

I have been struggling to put anything into words as of late. I've had no creative juices, no sudden bursts of inspiration. It's all been dormant, laid to rest for now, before the off chance that it might rise up again from it's bed.

I haven't been doing very well. Despite the times before the year became 2023 where I was probably in the best mental health and mental space, that had almost immediately took a nosedive into a panicked state thanks to a trip where we "bumped into" (forced to visit) a person who I have avoided contact with for eight years due to personal reasons. All because someone decided to do that for reasons that I will never understand and neither did the rest of the family. Since then, old habits have returned. During the rest of January and most of February, I was scrubbing hand sanitiser into my skin to the point where my mouth tasted like it was covered in chemicals. I was incredibly depressed, not made any better by my stupid lazy self not being able to finish... anything, mainly a Doctor Who Art project which I applied for, even when I thought that the project was too much for me.

I've gone back to thinking about the moment where all the issues popped up again, and realized that it was completely unavoidable when we arrived to "meet" them. If the person who decided to wake up one morning with this goal, without telling us and simply going on about how this person was horrible to them, but still wanting to meet them forcing the rest of the family to go into fight or flight didn't do any of that, I wouldn't be covering the car doors in hand sanitiser and opening them up with my T-shirt. As soon as I had to shake this person's hand, I knew it was over. Made even worse by the fact that they were all hugged by this person, including me when we left. Even if I stayed in the car, I knew that they would go up and try anything to get me out of there. For the rest of the day, I felt sick. Being forced into a situation that I knew I would have never done made me sick. When I got home, I went into the pool fully clothed to wash off these feelings, but they stuck. They always do.

Since then, I have not been good mentally. Physically either, as I have been in pain for a long while due to my back playing up. At age 23.

I'll share one good thing. I'll just copy and paste what I said somewhere else as I felt like I put into good words there, and don't want to rewrite it:

---

In late May, 2018, Network Distributing allowed the chance for people to ask questions to The Goodies. Naturally, I jumped at the chance. I mean, for someone who grew up with them, who wouldn't? They are The Goodies. THE Goodies. I immediately typed up a possible question.

I wanted to make my question fun. And it was a short window and I couldn't delay it by thinking and wondering "Oh, is that a good question? Is this a better question?", I immediately had to jump onto whatever was the first question on my mind, and the first thought was about how Mary Whitehouse liked the show. Mary Whitehouse liking your show, especially if it was a comedy, was like a bad omen, and I wanted to know more from their point of view since interviews for the show were few and far between (at the time I hadn't noticed any more, this was before the 50th anniversary).

So, the deadline was met, I submitted my question, and... nothing. I heard nothing. So, I just thought "Oh, I'll wait. It's fine. It'll be later on".

Still nothing for a long time. Eventually, I got the big BBC boxset, the most treasured item for any Goodies fan at the time. All (well, bar one episode) Goodies episodes from the BBC in one big boxset, with books and CDs if you pre-ordered it. And there was a special feature at the end, an interview with The Goodies? This might have my question in it. Maybe. Watched all of it. Still nothing, but I enjoyed watching it. It was more of the Goodies discussing the show and what they did before and after. But it got me thinking that only people who were at the actual location in the UK, where they were, could ask questions and have them answered by The Goodies. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

Eventually, I came across another interview. It was all three of them being interviewed in the Post Office Tower, the one the giant kitten, Twinkle, destroyed (and later ate). Someone asked basically the same question. None of the wording that I did for it, just the basic question and that was that. I think in my wait to see if my question was answered, I just believed that what was said there, despite not exactly what I wrote, was my question being asked to all three of them. I felt slightly disappointed, but I was just content to see my question being answered by the Goodies. So I saw that as it. That was my question, sort of. It was answered. And I was fine with it.

2020 then crashed by. Nearly two years before Network asked for questions to be answered by The Goodies, Tim Brooke-Taylor died. It was a shock to any fan. It hurt. Suddenly this person who has made me laugh since I first watched him way back in 2003 or 2005 was gone. And I never had the chance to thank him. I won't lie, I got emotional. I was in shock and it didn't take until around mid to late 2020 for it really to sink in that I had lost a childhood hero. I got emotional. During the week that I was told Tim passed away, I couldn't help but wanted to have something to remember him by. I asked to purchase an autograph from eBay, and I did. But after that, I couldn't help but feel hollow. As if I didn't earn it. As if I wasn't a "proper" fan because I never had the chance to meet him in person. No matter what, even after years, I still felt like that whenever I saw it on my wall.

4th of February, 2023. My good friend, while looking for clips on the director, Jim Franklin, from whatever Goodies thing we had sent me a timecode to An Audience With The Goodies, an extended version of the boxset special feature.

There it was.

My name (misspelt).

My question.

My wording.

My punchline.

My question was answered. My question got answered by The Goodies. THE Goodies.

I made the audience laugh.

I made them laugh.


I made The Goodies laugh.


I was tearing up. I still am now. After so long, after never having that moment of meeting Tim, after I thought it would never be answered like I had wrote it, it was answered. And people liked how I phrased my question.


This is one of the best moments in my life.


And I never even knew until now.

All I can say is thank you.

Thank you to Network Distributing for allowing me to ask a question to the Goodies, thank you to Steward Lee, thank you to Dick Fiddy for asking it to them in your marvellous voice, thank you to Tim Beddows for even making this Goodies event happen, thank you to Tim, Graeme and Bill for not only answering, but for just making me laugh throughout my life with your wonderful slapstick antics.

And especially, thank you to my good friend for showing me what I never thought would ever come true.

Now, I won't feel shallow for owning a signature from Tim because, despite me never meeting him, he answered my question and I made him laugh. And I will never forget that.

---

I've seriously tried to do something with Enedia, Susan, Arnold, anything but nothing has been coming through. Ideas that barely reach the writing stage and if they do, they are immediately stopped because I don't think they are good enough.

Because of a system error, I was nearly precluded, which put a whole damper on the year already as if the meeting of the person I haven't met in eight years wasn't enough to bring me down. The amount of stress and sadness that I had to hide away from my family due to this was exhausting, since they don't actually know about the preclusion in 2022. I have lied to them because of how they view this Uni experience. I can't quit, I don't have that option, they want me to continue. The confidence I had during that meeting with the Preclusion Appeals Committee and afterwards when I had successfully made it through to this upcoming semester is gone. Bluntly, it has just gone.

I seriously don't know what to do in regards to anything.

I know that I should be looking forward to things, but I've got nothing on my mind outside of some events that I know that I'll ruin for myself by overthinking, and sweating, and looking like an idiot. I should be well prepared for Uni, but I'm getting back into old habits that I don't want to be doing.

Another year, another retrospective on the year. And because my memory is a pain, I can't remember much. For the first time in a while, I only remember the good stuff. Well, most.

Yes, Positive Bear here.

I'll probably just be quick because I don't have much time before the fabled 12:00am, but I will say this.

You have no idea how great it is to both see my friends succeed in their dream goals that they've spent years on working and yearning on that goal. You have no idea how much I value all your kindness, your messages, your encouragement, everything. I'm proud to know that you've kept with me even if I have been incredibly silent throughout this year.

Thank you so much.

I haven't got much to say in the moment about how this year had been, so I'll just leave it here until either tomorrow or 2023 (wait). There have been some hard moments, some very difficult moments throughout this year, but this year has also been the year where I have finally released all of that pent up fear from decades of horrible times. Now, I'm looking forward to the future.

Oh... oh yeah...

My preclusion appeal got accepted.

I'm back at Uni.

Happy New Year.

The past few months have been difficult, I feel that goes without saying. My goal to post one thing a month hasn't been fruitful as September, October and November have been incredibly difficult in places that didn't make me want to create anything. Not even something short and simple. September, the announcement that my first out of two appeals for my preclusion was simply not accepted made just getting by with Uni even more difficult. I felt like I had completely failed my family, who are still completely unaware of the preclusion this year. I broke down, even though continuing University wasn't something that I actually wanted to do this year. I wanted to simply quit after the complete and total mental strain that I had last year. It has rather been forced upon me, University, with little reward (apart from a small Garfield figure that my mother got after finishing her University degree that she is handing down to me).

October saw the announcement that my show of inspiration would be leaving Australian airwaves possibly for good to go join Disney in its parade of owned franchises (If they have creative control over it in any way, they practically own it at this stage). That had put me in a very sour and depressed mood for a long, long while, especially after an episode that epitomises why I love Doctor Who, and what about it made it special to me. To simply having it cut from TV screens and streaming, both of which were for free, only for it to be taken away onto a streaming service that has... really nothing that interests me on it (apart from Get Back), it's not a great business decision, because it affects people who don't have that capacity to get a Disney subscription that now won't be able to watch it. There are fans who can't afford any sort of subscription to anything, regardless of how little it costs for people.

But in November, during the day of the Blood Moon showing, the worst out of all of the problems happened.

My friend died.

It was sudden for me. Anaphylaxis. Most likely caused by an allergic reaction with food. I didn't realize how close she was to me when it happened. Death of someone you know always brings doubts to bubble and surface in your mind. You ask questions whether or not you really counted as her friend, whether or not you have the right to mourn over someone you know, but didn't know as well as these other people who kept in touch with her. Whether or not you would have made it to see her in the city before the moment happened. I knew her during theatre productions, both as a stagehand and actor, but mainly a stagehand. She was wonderful, youthful, despite all the issues she had with her health. Funny as anything, so quick with her wit like an archer with a bow and arrow. She didn't care if she had to be silly, she would do it on stage without a doubt. My brother worked for her during his job in the radio station and she was easily the kindest soul there, especially when things got tough for the whole family. I can try and regret all the opportunities I missed with her, every possible call or message I could have gave out, but why would I do that to myself? Why live with the regrets instead of the memories.

Her sudden departure made things weird within my mind, as I was recently off my medication after being on it after nearly two years, so it became difficult to think about simply anything, whether positive or not. I went to seek comfort, and tried my best to hide behind jokes and other such nonsense so that people couldn't see how I was feeling about life. It didn't work out, as tributes and such were still coming through from people who, like me, dearly missed her and, unlike me, knew her a lot more.

And yet, 3 in the morning, lack of sleep from both humidity, thunderstorms and bugs, I got on the computer, simply to watch something.

That something made me realize something.



I want to live.



Recently, I've been seeing a psychologist. Yes, I've managed to see one after months of waiting, and she's been really lovely. I've been off my medication, as I have mentioned, but there have been so many more improvements of me being off it than me being on it that I've wanted to simply not go back on them. And knowing that the alternative medication apparently increases the risk of suicide is definitely a helping factor of why I don't want to return to medication. So far, despite everything thrown towards me, my mental health has been better. My body looks better. My confidence is better. Things can still improve, of course, still got issues with my arm and shoulder, but it looks alright so far. But after the death of my friend, things were stuck in this puddle of confusion. This feeling of unassured white noise.

But then Bluey came along.

Bluey is this kids show that I've been watching after hearing so much about it from my friend, who is around my age as well, and from someone who I watch on YouTube who recommended it after saying that it "makes him want to be a better father". I already knew how good it was from the first episode I watched, but during these weeks where I don't have a psychologist visit, I've been watching more. They've made me laugh and made me teary-eyed regularly, but this one episode had made me feel like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. A weight that had been pulling me down since I was very, very young. All it shown was just Bluey and her sister, Bingo, play around with the boxes of flatpack furniture. And as it continued from them playing as fish, to frogs, to lizards, dinosaurs, birds, monkeys, cavemen, the parents of the characters watched, happy, realizing that they had made them. These incredibly creative, fun characters, they had created them. And they were proud. And as Bluey and Bingo continued to play, they reached a point where one was an old woman, proud of her pretend daughter, and watched her fly away. At the end, the flatpack furniture is finished, and they sit and watch the sunset, as they say "This is heaven".

And it hit me.

It broke me.

Into tears.

And smiling so much.

Because I realized what it meant, and similarly what that whole message meant to me. They were watching her from above, they kept playing and enjoying things, and watching their pretend daughter keep going. Because they are so proud.

And from there, that fear of death, the one that embarrassed me throughout my life, it let go. It left. And I was crying as years of fear turned to potential years of longing for old age. With a family to be proud of.

I found purpose. To keep going, to keep living life. And it is so basic of a purpose, and I found it in an odd way, but I'm so happy right now. I don't know if it's the pent of fear of death that has just been released from me realizing it, but that episode made me realize how much I am looking forward to old age. And I have never, ever felt that way about being older. I've always been afraid of it, but I'm now longing for the journey of life.

I ended up, crying tears of joy, smiling on every teardrop as I realized for the first time, a genuine feeling, that I wanted to keep going. That I wanted to live. That I wanted to have a family. Something that I was so, so fearful of, since it felt like just a reminder of death, and yet now, I wanted to give them the happiness that I was feeling so much. It was the happiest mental breakdown that I have ever had.

And all it took was a cartoon blue heeler.

I don't know if the fear will come back. Knowing my track record, it probably will.

But I wanted to document how despite everything, I want to live.

I hear people say "No thoughts, head empty"

No thoughts?

Yes thoughts.

Always thoughts.

Always. Thoughts.

Every. Single. Thought.

Every past mistake.
Every present deadline.
Every future worry.

Always. Thoughts.

Every thought loses sleep as I rest, waking me from my slumber to greet me with every passing and fleeting moment of regret. It prys my eyes open, removing me from the darkness of dreams into the cold, bedridden world of reality. Even as I drift, the mind seeps with its own melancholy, leaving me trapped in a realm of my own remembrance.

How I loathe it.

My own brain.

An idea lifts on the winds and passes on, while the nightmares stay to torment my waking day.

One cannot put pen to paper, ink to scroll, without the mere thought of past action. It follows me like a shadow, and no amount of light can ever halt its progress. It begs to let suffer the minds of innocence, as it did me.

Youthful self... crushed under the influence of the fear it provides.

Happiness left in tears as depression takes its place.

On the throne of my mind, it sits.

Waiting.

I had my week all planned. I was going to get my shoulder looked at, I was going to go into the city for work, I was going to help friends with their Uni assignments. I was going to see Aunty Donna, the Australian comedy trio. I was going to get on a bus back to my home town to see my family for Easter.

Can't do any of that now.

One of my room-mates has the virus, so all my plans for a busy but rewarding weekend has gone.

This is one of the most painful weeks I've had this year.

So, here it ends. 2021. One of the worst years that I have experienced so far, and I'm not holding my breath that 2022 will be any better, considering the things that will follow on from this retched year. Not only that but it is an even-numbered year. Since 2012, every even-numbered year from that point forward has been one of the hardest years to go through, until 2019, where it became every year. This month has been hard to detail, not for any personal reason, more due to the method that I am typing this journal on.

Let's start with a positive. I patched things up with my father. The pure anger and annoyance that the Urgent Mental Health Clinic left me with ended up with my yelling at my Dad for things that he missed. Birthdays and things that I have wanted to do with him for years. During the start of the month, I ignored phone calls with my family as I was not ready to talk to the both after that moment. I wanted to just distance myself from people. After a few days, they arrived to where I was, as my brother was seeing my University for a special course which he wants to do. My honest hope is that he gets it, but most importantly, gets the support he needs as he has autism. I didn't talk to them much when they took my out to lunch, but as the day progressed, I felt at ease, and we apologised to each other.

Throughout the month, I managed to just hang out with a friend. Just one. I thought it would be better for my mental health if I just saw one, especially after the parties in November. It was their birthday the day before I saw them, and I was given an invite to their party. I honestly don't know why still to this day why I was invited. I only met them for three days, months apart. But I felt like I still owed them a gift. They enjoyed it, even though the gift was so simple and silly. I wasn't going to stay long. I was just going to be there for the short moment of giving them a gift then leave, but I ended up being there long enough to fully explain why I wasn't going to stay. For what like a long while, I had someone finally truly understand the issues I was having mentally with the friend group. Then they explained that they had issues, detailing some recklessness and sexism with one of the members of the group. I talked about how left out I was feeling, and they were surprised by why they simply couldn't add me with their activities and sessions.

Though the second time I met up with the friend, they mentioned something else I wasn't invited to.


Three times.


The Messenger group.

The D&D session.

And now, the Kris Kringle event.

That didn't make things any better with that feeling of divide, though my anxiety was happy knowing that the fear and paranoia that flooded my mind was right. They don't care. I'm replaceable.

I sincerely think that after I give one of them one of the birthday gifts that was late, I'm just going to head out. I'm considering not going to their graduation, but that idea is still up in the air.

Uni is now finished. The final assignment that I sent them honestly made me happy knowing that I could fail on that assignment, as if it was the final note I leave on. Something that is flawed so badly, textures and files not working, but I had fun editing. The comfort that the mere concept of ending Uni on that assignment was a delight. That delight stopped when I heard from my course coordinator that I would pass. I wanted to end this so, so badly. I had given up, I was fatigued, I had several sleepless nights working at the Uni throughout the year that I just wanted to leave and not come back. And then it turned out that my course coordinator didn't get his facts right, and it turns out that one of my subjects is close to a fail. They have given me something to pass it, something that I will do regardless. Not that I want to, but because I'll have my mother watching over me like a hawk.

Throughout the month, I have worried that I have contracted COVID, and the fear grew more since a few cases was around where I had been with my friend and around where I live. The fear of it is growing since going to a family event. I am going to take a COVID test wherever I can to get a clear result, but even that is a unknown sign since some reports had been false during this month.

The events near the end of the year have been hard to really discuss. My family gathering was decent, despite me being too nervous to say anything. Seeing my brother in person was good. Where we are staying for the Christmas holidays was good. Meeting some sea lions ended up being lacklustre as it was basically 5 hours of being on a boat, and 3 minutes actually seeing sea lions. My brother becoming incredibly aggressive, calling me slurs, even getting me to breaking point where I was going to try and slap him, only for him to claw me with his fingernails enough to cut me wasn't a highlight. For any of us. At the current time, everything is settled for now.

So, now it is the end. And here I am, sunburnt and fatigued, wondering how my cases of COVID in both home town and city are awaiting to be discovered after New Years, hoping that you had a better year than I had. I am still grateful that I had at least one day that was purely good. And it was the most basic joys that I could have had. I was so happy that day. I was beaming with joy underneath my mask. And all it was was a phone call from a friend.

I'm not holding my breath that maybe next year will be good, because I know that it won't for me. I just hope that you all have a good year next year. I hope that you are all safe, you, your friends, families, and I hope that 2022 will be a year of good luck and fortune for you all.

Until then...

...I'll see you next year.

As of 8:02 pm, something has happened that I haven't experienced in a long while.

I had a good day.

A really good day.

It wasn't anything that could count in people's eyes as special. I even missed out on things because I stayed up at ridiculous times of the day. But it didn't matter. I just had a really good day today.

I had conversations with friends, I had a nice sleep (when I got to it), it was just really great! I didn't go anywhere, or do anything particularly special, I just had a really nice time.

The reason why I mention this is because it has felt like such a long time where anxiety had not played a part on a full day of my life this year. I was extremely happy, I was smiling under my mask when I was out with shopping. I was happy.

It was a good day.

(WARNING: DISTRESSING STUFF IS DISCUSSED)

This has been one of the worst months so far in 2021. It feels as if though I am just repeating myself throughout every single month that I have documented, but this month has been so painful. I left this month in such a sense of depression.

At the start of the month, I went back to my home town for a Uni assignment, trying to record everything for a 3 minute long video where I had to focus on a particular theme that I had chosen. This assignment was something that I had planned before the second semester even started. Due to how some of the main members of the theatre group treated her, the actress who I had was harassed to the point of psychological damage whenever she saw them. She was dropped out of that theatre group and missed her opportunity to be a part of a dream of hers, which was to be a part of Wicked, the musical. When I heard that months ago, I decided that whatever assignment that I had that allowed me to be creative, I would make her be a part of something Wicked related. The issue was that our timetables never lined up perfectly. I was a week into being back at my home town, with only one day left until I had to get back to where I am staying for Uni. We filmed everything in one day. Despite my annoyance for the waiting for an entire week to try and get filming for an assignment that was due in four days, the wait was worth it, not only for the assignment, and working with the people that I had, but also for the view. That view was just incredible. That feeling of pure escape. Just looking at a farm, with hills overlooking all the cities. It was peaceful. But it was only for one day.

Immediately as I was back in the city, I got a cold. Simply lasted for one day, but it took me away from editing the final assignment, so thankfully I received an extension for it. But annoyingly for me, as I was working on it, I received a message from a friend asking me if I wanted to come over for a BBQ. Why was this annoying? The date for the BBQ was the due date. I honestly didn't want to go, for two reasons. One is obvious, the due date for the assignment. The other was the amount of anxiety that visiting my friends bring. By this month, they were finished. Uni was over for them. They submitted their final assignments and were walking away from doing any more Uni tasks. It was over for them, and they made sure that they mentioned it. That BBQ, I honestly kept thinking that I should leave. It didn't matter what was happening, I just wanted to leave. And I, for some reason, stayed. They were having discussions about philosophy after discussions about sex toys. They were keen to talk extensively about jobs, which is great for me, knowing nothing about what they were talking about since I am unemployed. And when being by myself, and they wanted me to join them, whenever I would do that, the majority of them were on their phones, having no conversation. I left as soon as I could the next morning. I didn't enjoy it. One time, I left to go downstairs and put my head into the pool to scream. It was easier having conversations with the group's parents than it was talking to them.

And as I arrived back home, the assignment was late. I stayed up multiple nights, sometimes not even sleeping to finish it, and as I was working on it, I noticed flaws in how I handled the filming. I should have brought a reference of the song so that I could time how long they should be singing certain parts. I should have fixed the focus of the camera, I should have brought a camera bag to keep it safe. I finished the assignment four days, and twenty one hours late. I was happy that I had finished it, but looking back, I don't like it. I don't think I ever did a good job in how I wanted to present this assignment and gift to the people who needed to see it. It took me days to finally show it to the actress who the assignment was for. And despite that assignment being finished, I had five other assignments. All overdue. All 3D work.

I don't honestly know why I had done this, other than for supporting friends, but I could have honestly avoided it to save myself from the feeling of failure. I had watched my friend's showreel, displaying all her work from her final year at University, and the more I saw, the more I hated myself for not being alongside them. She had done 3D modelling, displaying effects upon recordings to make it look honestly high-budget-television-quality professional. I hated myself watching it, being constantly reminded where I am. I don't know why I did that to myself, why I watched it, because I knew that I wasn't going to like seeing it. But that feeling wasn't over.

I went to another VFX night at the University. The last one, I cried my eyes out. I spent the whole of my psychologist appointment during the week that it was on literally detailing the positives and negatives about going there, and there were more negatives than positives. And I still went. To support friends. And I couldn't handle it still. At the start, I honestly thought that there was a chance to just leave. The sense of relief that I felt when I didn't see any of my friends there after the first hour was honestly good. The feeling that I could just leave and that would be it was fantastic. Until I saw them. And I stayed there, finishing one whole beer without the show even starting, having them all sit by me, even though I deliberately chose to sit closer to the exit so that I could leave without them seeing me. Nothing worked. They all sat by me. When a tutor of mine for the 3D work came by and asked me how I was going, I was completely honest with him and told him that my anxiety was not good, and I mentioned how this night was a huge trigger for anxiety and how I see myself as a failure since all my friends are finished. He told me he would be there for me, but as someone said hi to him, he goes "Glad to be finished?" Well-meaning, but tone-deaf sometimes. The night barely started and I immediately left before even a second of my friend's work was shown. I couldn't handle it. It felt like I was going to pass out. I just left, and tried to calm myself down with music. Didn't work.

And no, it still wasn't the end.

I had to go to a friend's birthday party. Stubbornness at this point is why I kept going. I had to be there for my friends, but every time I went to one of them, I would hate it and hate myself in return, asking myself why I am not enjoying things. I had bought my friend presents, one that is still late, and a couple that I knew she would enjoy. She is an artist, so I bought her three sketchpads. She enjoyed it, which I am grateful for. But the rest of that night, I seriously wanted to just leave. I broke down. I was drawing to try and distract myself from any sense of anxiety. When it came to watching a movie, I decided to leave. I didn't find much interest in continuing watching the film, so I decided to go back and colour in a whiteboard drawing. It was just something to pass the time. The whiteboard was in my friend's little office area, her own study for art and such. I thought it was cool, but it was only for a quick glance. Once I took a closer look, I was rather overwhelmed. I thought it was something I could handle.

But then I saw her awards.

And I couldn't help but feel it all rushing to me. Just looking around the house. Framed pictures of her artwork, both originals and reprints. Creations that she made or made with her family. Cosplay elements hanging on the walls. Folders and binders of artwork from several years all neatly preserved. Things that she made, puppets and such, for University assignments. Her winning artwork for an Anime convention that went on clothes that people bought.

And I'm just there.

Drawing a Dalek.

Like always.

I felt so low. I felt angry at myself and angry at what I couldn't control. I could have had this life. Accomplishments like this, drawing and illustrating more, being able to explore what I can do with my skills. I could have not focused my energy on some sci-fi show. I could have been more creative. I could have had purpose. Now I feel like my purpose is to be a warning sign for others of what not to become. Riddled with anxiety as I hear mention that the group of friends that I've been waiting to find time to play games with, especially D&D, apparently have been doing that without me noticing, to the point that when asked, people have mentioned that the last game they played was less than a month ago. I have been asking if people are free for two years. It's also great knowing that they all talk about "Oh, we all posted in the group chat. One for people who were working for a VFX company for Uni, and one for friends who aren't working there". I'm not in either.

The next day, I met up with my tutor for Uni, and we rushed out three assignments in a few minutes. I felt so ashamed of myself that I started to cry. That crying continued into my next psychologist appointment. Throughout that final week, I thought about it. About ending it. I thought about plans. I thought about methods. I actively wished for it to be over. And that hasn't stopped. The psychologist brought me to an Urgent Mental Health Clinic and they did barely anything to help. It took five hours, the whole experience, and it left me feeling so mad. It felt like I was disappointing the doctors there, as their moods soured my own. And as I grew angrier and angrier, when I went home at 9:30pm after being there at 4:50pm, I took all that anger out on my family. Especially my Dad. He didn't deserve it. I had no right to do that to him.

They mentioned, the doctors there, that I am close to having a psychological breakdown. I'm seeing a GP for my awful shoulder, which could end up being irreversible nerve damage. I am only meant to see them for that, but now I have to shove all this mental stuff at them.

No, the feeling hasn't changed.

Whenever I have wished to die, I have had this feeling of never truly meaning it.

That has changed.

I have no hopes for December or 2022. Not a single one. Because what positives are there when you are watching your friends graduate, and you have achieved nothing in the meantime.

Truth be told, I really have little if nothing to say. This month has been just purged out of memory. There isn’t much to talk about. The majority of this month has been mainly worrying about November, as there are a few things in there that I have felt nothing but fear about. That said, some announcements around October have definitely made November a harder month to go through.

University is not in a good state at the moment. My energy has been focused in on one assignment, and the others, while being thought and planned, have had barely any attention put to them. Despite that, I have received the grade for one of the assignments handed up previously. A credit. Quite honestly, I expected myself to have that grade be simply a pass and that's it, something that I am fine with getting, despite people saying "GO FOR MORE, MORE THAN A PASS!". I simply just want to pass this year and that's it. I'm not aiming any higher than simply wanting to continue through to next year. I've been going to physio regularly on account of my dominant arm hurting immensely, to the point where one side of the arm has numbing down it's sensitivity. It honestly hurts to move my arm at times. There seems to be some sort of (for lack of a better word) clunk around in the shoulder joint, and it has probably been there for ages since my poor posture and added weight onto my shoulder (with school bags and such). The final tutorials are done, everything is about finishing up our final assignments. For me, it is finishing everything that I have missed as well as the final assignments.

Around the later stages of October, I saw something that made me really think about where I am going in life:

My friends have finished Uni.

That single image of them at their final presentation gave me nothing but dread and sadness. I could have been at that stage but I fucked up. It is as simple as that. I could have pushed through the comments of people, I could have kept going through dealing with passings, and I could have dealt with all the awful roommates if I just passed through it all and got on the other side with them. Graduating. I still haven't fully accepted that it is all finished for them. I'm so unsure that I want to go to the VFX night in late November, because in the last one, I broke down into tears. I don't think I can do that again.

Some members of family and friends aren't going well either. My uncle is dealing with loneliness and depression, and my friend who was my music teacher has also got depression. It isn't great, but it gives me people who I can discuss my problems with and hear their problems as well. I feel like I need people who are willing to listen to issues like that, because I don't feel that with my current Uni friends. I feel more and more isolated with them. I honestly don't think that my friendship with them will last that much compared to you guys via here.

November will be painful to go through. Uni work, VFX night, seeing my friends finish. I don't think that I can really go on with this.

I'm so tired. I've slept for hours today since I stayed up trying to complete an assignment that is overdue. And it isn't even finished yet. It is hard to fully describe the feeling that this month has given me. I can really only describe it as a disconnection between me and everything. Time, Friends, Family, University, everything. Despite the help that has been given to me, I'm wondering if I am just blocking it out subconsciously. It has been a long time since I have felt purely happy, the last time being March this year.

In August, the people who I was seeing for mental health appointments decided to just stop calling. After late within August, I discovered that they decided to cancel it, without mentioning it to me at all, in a text or anything. They said that my GP cancelled it. I completely found that to be unlikely, so during this month, I asked her and yeah, she didn't cancel. So, already I was searching for some sort of psychologist. After a few long days, the University Psychology Clinic was where I was now having appointments and so far, they are okay. Importantly, it is affordable, already making it twenty times better than any previous places I went to.

But despite that, my mental state has been just awful. I cannot really get interested in anything much. I have stopped doing art. I have being staying up several nights at the University and even then, my mind cannot concentrate on anything. It has been so tiring, and yet my mind continues to drag me down into depressive thoughts of things that have happened. During the later half of this month, after just missing the chance to get vaccinated with Pfizer, I went to get something to eat. I managed to bump into my friends when I was there and throughout the whole experience, I felt little connection between them. I felt like I was the odd one out again, and the more I see them, the more I see that I am nowhere close to being with them as I had once become. They are now doing their final semester of University. After this, they graduate. And already writing down that they graduate while I am still at Uni, failing to finish anything, I already hate myself. I already see them becoming popular and doing some incredible things, which while I can be extremely happy for them that they have finished, they are going to do so many cool things, I feel like a mistake. They have barely skimmed upon being 20 years of age, and they are incredible artists and 3D modellers and I am nothing. I'm nothing close. I don't like looking back at that day. The rest of the time, I just couldn't help but feel like an outcast. They are already having relationships and talking and experiencing sex, while I just want to hang out and be with people. I have always thought that if I wasn't at that time and place where they were, I would have not been invited anyhow. During that time, a friend of mine introduced me to her new boyfriend. This friend was someone who I asked out, she said no, and I accepted that and we still became friends. As 2021 continued, I tried to envision if it would ever work between us, and honestly... no. It wouldn't. And the reasons why would all point to me being too much of a hassle to be around. I'm too depressing. I need help a lot. But as I saw her with her boyfriend, this feeling of a missed opportunity just swamped my mind. I know that it would have never worked out between us, so why do I feel this way? I wouldn't have wanted to ruin possibly one of the best friendships I've had during Uni, so why do I just feel alone? It doesn't help that around two fourths of that group now had partners and that one fourth can't help but mention sex nearly every visit. I just want to hang out and feel good that I'm with friends, rather than feel like a third wheel all the time.

My dad had kidney stones, but thankfully that has been all rectified and he is doing okay. My family is doing okay, but I feel disconnected there too. I try to add things into the conversation with them and I get cut out or ignored. It's one of the reasons why I either don't talk much to them or just straight up lie. Nothing has changed in my home town, it sucks and all the nice things that it once had are dying out, especially the greenery. Not only that but the main things I love about coming back home, that I see at Uni that remind me of home, the magpies, are either gone missing or are just dead. I've been going to physio for my arm, shoulder and neck and the amount of pain that just comes from getting my phone from the bedside table is awful.

I've already mentioned this, but perhaps why I have just stopped doing anything creative could come from the fact that my work was stolen. Again. By a huge Audio Drama production company. Big Finish. Who have been doing Doctor Who audios for 20 years. I made a video for fun, some stupid niche meme that I thought that a niche audience would like, but it got a huge response. And then someone stole it. The video was on a private group, so that meant that they would have downloaded the video from Facebook using some other site. They posted it on their Twitter after a day since it was uploaded. And then Big Finish saw it and posted it on their site. The response I got on Facebook was not the same that Big Finish got on Twitter. Thousands liked it. And they all thanked Big Finish for it. I didn't get credited. I didn't even know about it until four days later from when I posted the meme. People who I have respected saw it and didn't know that I made it. Limmy, one of the biggest Scottish comedians saw it, liked it, and no-one would have known it was me. I was angry, so I immediately asked them to credit me. I didn't get through to them until I made another meme about how mad I was, where clearly the guy who stole it saw. After a night of being annoyed by their lackluster responses, they credited me in a snarky way. I felt hollow.

I still do.

I hate this month.

I hate this year.

And I have looked up different ways to end things. But I am just so tired to even try them.

I'm just so tired.

So... August... My birth month... I didn't want it to turn out the way it did, but I can't go back now, can I. The week long lockdown of the whole state was finally finished, taking up one week of the start of the second Uni semester. Plans were cancelled, but the overall plan of some sort of birthday party was still able to be considered. Missing the first week of the second semester, I know had a shorter time to work on assignments, especially if the assignments required files or programs that I couldn't even (and still can't) fit onto the laptop. It didn't help that when I did return to Uni, the tutor mentioned that saving projects from these programs could corrupt removable hard drives completely, making them unusable for anything. Speaking of hard drives, I was incredibly relieved that the early typed notes for the third chapter of To Become Of Us was on my hard drive. It might not be everything, but it had the main part of the document that I wanted. I am incredibly glad I had something, because if I didn't, I honestly probably would have considered completely getting rid of it, meaning no more of Enedia's history, or of the cursees. I continued seeing people for my mental health every Monday early on in the month, and it was helpful. It was just helpful to see people and to talk about it without the feeling of wasting their time discussing my state of mind. Despite them changing psychologists each time, it was still good. I also finally took the time to get my skin checked for any potential skin cancers. We just removed an irritated mole, so thankfully it is nothing serious.

Coming back into Uni was at times therapeutic as it was stressful. Uni remains to be a safe haven of sorts for me. What wasn't great was the introduction of an absolutely tedious subject, where at some stage, people had to watch reality shows like Survivor and such. This wasn't a first year subject either, it was a second year subject, where second year subjects tend to bring in more specialized assignments and ideas, this one didn't. The tutor didn't make it any more exciting either, and when someone entered the room accidentally and were told what subject this was, they didn't sound like they enjoyed doing it. The assignments were all essays. No video essays like I had done for lots of first and second year subjects, this was just written essays, all talking about the films that we were supposed to watch. I dropped out of it. I didn't find any part of it interesting, and with the assignments all being written essays, it failed to do anything to capture my imagination, unlike another subject that I think is a bit dull but has some assignments where I can imagine what I can do with it. I wanted to do something for a friend who had been bullied out of her theatre groups, so I said that whatever assignment I would have that would allow me some creative freedom, I would record her singing songs from Wicked, as it was a musical that she missed out on due to her experiences with the group (The exact same group as the one that did Little Shop Of Horrors), and that slightly dull subject has that certain assignment that allows that idea to happen.

But with the Uni coming back also came the fears and the feelings of failure. It is already tough knowing I failed so badly I would have to be held back, but 2023 is not a date I had in mind for graduating. I still see that date as something where I can't be with my friends. They would finish two years before I would. And it would be a mid-year graduation, so I would even graduate with the friends I've made restarting first-year subjects.

And a 22nd birthday coming up, that really just put a lot of perspective with how much I have procrastinated and distracted myself throughout the already two and a half years I've been at the Uni. My 22nd birthday was... good. There were some absolutely fantastic moments, a lot of fun, good places to go and see, and great food. I enjoyed it, I enjoyed my friends being there and I enjoyed the fun that we had. But I couldn't fully enjoy it when it was happening. My anxiety at times got the better of me. My thoughts would go to comparing myself to them once again. And I had a small panic attack when we were playing pool (billiards). But I got through it. I took video of it. I enjoyed it so much by the end of it. I enjoyed the next day as well for the most part, going to an event with my family called Illuminate, where the Botanic Gardens in the city are filled with lights and smoke, though it did unintentionally look like there might have been a small fire. It honestly looked beautiful at times, where whole buildings were glowing with light in time to music. You could see the lights from far away, it was impressive and very beautiful.

But that's where the good things stopped. I'm just disappointed to have had a moment like I did. My family and I had a decent night out and when they returned to my place for a small toilet break, all they did was complain about how I have kept my room up and they talked about my reputation in the place. It is that line about reputation that soured the whole weekend. My family feels obsessed with image, reputation and their perspective amongst people, even if these people had never met, heard or cared about them in the first place. I noticed it a lot during the later years of high-school, and it would seem like they would take priority over how people see them rather than any issues of mental health. When they left, I didn't hug them, I didn't see them out, I rarely said goodbye. I just wasn't happy. They still view that moment as me being "cranky" about the mess and not about the comment that they had made and what it meant to me.

From that point on, I felt miserable. I returned back into a cycle of depression. I felt miserable about how Australia (well, one part of Australia) was handling COVID cases, as they were growing in their thousands and the premier of that state didn't (and still continues not to) lockdown the state, leaving other states and even other countries infected by the strain. Uni computers continued to crash, while I was working. I had panic attacks and they were getting worse, I was hitting my head more and more as these invasive thoughts started to get worse and worse. I couldn't get Centrelink until the start of the next month, and even then, there are doubts still of whether I can get it. And when I tried to get assignments done, the entire area where the Uni was blacked out. There was no power. No lights. No traffic lights. No way to get in. No way to work. When power was back on, their system was finally able to show the due dates, and when I accessed them for the first time, I was two days overdue. It had already passed it's due date. I asked for an extension. I didn't get one for either. What didn't help were calls from my parents asking "Are you actually going to pass this semester?". Even if it was due to them being worried, presenting it like that doesn't help anyone, let alone the person who is already not in the best mood with them. All three assignments. Nothing handed up. Incomplete or failed.

I was so tired. There were nights where I stayed up until 3am in the morning, and days where I woke up at 6pm. Sometimes during the 3am walk back home, I would walk on the road, whispering the words "Please hit me" to any lights that I could see.

And to top it all off, those people who I saw for my mental health stopped calling around mid-way through the month. They said that my "case was closed" and that my GP cancelled it. I had heard nothing from my GP, nor did they call me to say that this was the case. During the hardest days of this month, I had no idea what was going on with these sessions. My GP said nothing about it at all, so my honest guess is that she had nothing to do with the cancellations and that the people who I was seeing have just stopped.

It's been a hard month.

With the possibility of me failing once again, it's going to be a hard year. I'm trying to get help, trying to find ways to vent off this anger and sadness, but sometimes I have no way of doing so. There have been times were I have just screamed inside the Uni when it is late, because I know that no one will be there on some days. I at least have that comfort.

I'm 22 now.

Not a lot of things have happened this month. Bluntly speaking, there are really only four events that I can remember about this month clearly. There may be other events sliced into one event, but it covers that overall situation that I was in. Looking back, there are really those events happening and that's all that I could really mention.

What was going to be one night ended up as a sleepover. I saw my friends on the 2nd of July, just for a meetup. It was difficult really getting in the headspace of being with friends and not comparing myself to them at all, which was rather impossible for me last month, and it is still difficult not to do so. Even with my friend's parents being just as creative and within the industry that the both of us would like to either be a part of or see more of. So, already, it wasn't starting off well, mentally. I was already late too, which made me believe that I would miss out on things. When the night progressed, it was okay. The thoughts still persisted but not at the same rate as before. My friends brought me to their PC, where they had set up BeamNG.drive for me to test out driving a manual for fun. I somehow did better than the person who owned her own car. We watched a few things, both YouTube videos, shows and movies, one of which was the film The Mitchells Vs. The Machines, which was fantastic and absolutely should beat Luca for the best animated movie. But as I continued throughout the night, those thoughts persisted. Am I good enough? Will I ditch these people? Will they ditch me? Will I be there for them and will they be there for me? Those thoughts of comparison also were heightened as my friend brought out her sketchbooks. Every page was like a visual reminder that I have in no way progress in skill with drawing at all. Even with the tablet test that I have posted, I cannot be what she is. I couldn't get to sleep that night. It was a pure miracle that I even slept at all that night. We said our goodbyes and that was it. One night of some fun, but equally, or even more so, with existential dread. I worry that I'm not enough. That I'm not there enough. That I'll just be forgotten, and that even if I am still with them, I'll forget them. The people who mainly sit in my mind are the people who have hurt me, and I don't want that to overtake the memories of being with friends. In some cases, it is hard to look back without thinking of those people.

A few days after, I was just at the Uni. I was having another stay in, something that I can do more regularly since the place that I'm staying isn't so far away. I've been worried about the possibility of me failing, it has been something that has been in the forefront of my mind for months ever since January when I first got the notification of preclusion. So, I check the grades as they were announced, revealing what I got.

I passed.

And yet, I felt awful.

I broke down into tears, none of which were in joy of me passing this burden on me. My mind was made sure that I was to fail this year, end up back home, away from friends, but... I won out and yet I felt worse. It isn't because things are shaping up. It's because the more I see my friends, the more I feel like I don't fit in. The more I see their judgements. I'd been feeling emotional a lot since the past month, and the combination of this and one particular scene in the film I saw with my friends, I just didn't handle it well at all. I cried for what felt like a half-hour. I held onto that idea of failing for too long that passing was the thing that I wasn't ready for. That whole night, I just couldn't handle things, so I stayed there, weeping out a lot.

Few weeks later, I went home. The delay didn't make things easier from home to home, especially while emotions were just not in a good spot. While it was good to see family, I stayed too long at home to start to see things revert back to anxious thoughts. It didn't mean that I didn't have some fun or enjoyment there. We drove to one of the highest points near the area around our home town. The place was so tall that we saw the curvature of the Earth. The sights of greenery were honestly beautiful. If the whole trip was like that, things would have been nice. But I got stuck mentally in a sense. My OCD was not in a comfort zone, which is awful, considering that is my home. It has been difficult, mainly due to me staying an extra week at home which brought tensions to a boil. If I stay too long, my parents tend to forget about OCD issues. Sometimes my family would just forget certain areas, it would usually take a week for them to just forget problem OCD areas. I annoy them with how I don't want to go near places in the house, because of even the distant memories of past things that have happened, even things that didn't even happen at home. It wasn't a pleasant final few days at home. It didn't help that when my family talked about what we had achieved during the past month, it was always the same.

My father got a new job that pays well.

My brother got a new job that would bring him closer to home.

I passed first year subjects of Uni for someone in third year.

They saw it as congratulating us (which it was) but I saw it as a reminder that I was nowhere near where I wanted to be.

I've also been trying to get into Centrelink was little to no avail. Centrelink was the one that provided me with the youth allowance during 2019 and most of 2020, but stopped as Dad got a job that paid slightly over the amount that parents need for their kids to get student allowance. And when I mean slightly, I do mean slightly. My mother is barely getting both myself, my younger brother and both her and Dad by. We tried to reapply, but unfortunately we couldn't do that because I need to be one year older to apply for it. On the dot. And the process is made even more confusing by the site in which I have to apply for a living away from home allowance.

But I got back to my home away from home in time...

...just before a state wide lockdown.

Plans were taken away for the final week of Uni holidays, which admittedly would be mostly being at the Uni itself, or being with some friends. I didn't take that well. During the final few days of being at home, all I wanted to do was be back at the Uni to do something creative. And I couldn't do that anymore. I spent a lot on food, basically just needing some kind of escape. Because of one state in Australia not doing their job, and with the whole of Australia having the least amount of vaccines in most countries, all states were in lockdown. Thankfully, it did not last long. For the state where I am. The highest amount of cases we had was 12. Currently, in NSW, there are 200+ cases. What are they doing to stop it? Nothing. The premier is doing nothing, even to the point of not wearing a mask while out and about. There were thousands of people protesting out in the streets, even punching police horses.

I've been calling up several psychologists, which has been difficult as some have given me the run around, but I've eventually got appointments with a few during Mondays. It has been slow going, but I have someone to check on me.

I'm not ready for August.

I'm not ready for Uni.

I'm not ready to be 22.

There is no doubt in my mind that things will not go well. Optimism is not high at all. I'm just so tired at this point.

(WARNING: DISTRESSING STUFF IS DISCUSSED)

It has been hard to recount most of the month, aside from certain moments which define how hard this month has been and some positive. I’ve been going through everything from chats online to my phone gallery to see what I have done last month (or this month on the last day, depending on when this gets sent).

By now, I’ve told you all about my roommate. My horrid, horrid roommate. Well, despite all the constant notices I had given the apartment complex, he actually got in trouble and got given a warning. Yes, one warning. What was the issue? Believe it or not, he decided that the best time to use a blender was two in the morning. I recorded audio of him doing so, sending the audio to the apartment complex and they mentioned that I wasn’t the only one to complain. They also heard from the neighbouring apartment that complained about him using a blender at two in the morning. What did they do to fix the issue? I still have not a single clue. A warning on the phone, which does nothing at all, possibly. Did the roommate change at all due to the warnings? Absolutely not. I still heard him and his girlfriend argue over the phone, swearing up a storm, and have sex on different days, so he hasn’t changed at all. He was just as unpleasant as he always has been. But I don’t have to deal with him anymore.

During the early stages of the month, my mental health was declining. Badly. The overwhelming feelings of paranoia, anxiety, OCD, depression and Impostor Syndrome was building from last month, and it didn’t help that some of that stemmed from an assignment that I was doing. It wasn’t because of the stress, the deadline, it was due to the content itself. The content was that I had to create some form of media in their style. I decided to draw as I wanted to break out of my comfort zone, and I hadn’t drawn anything in months. But in choosing a friend who’s style looks insanely professional, and someone close to me, the constant comparisons that my mind did overwhelmed me incredibly. Her talent and the fact that she is in her third year, while I was redoing years depressed me greatly. It was hard to see these friends of mine without those thoughts. It was difficult to be in those situations, and made worse as their workplace was near my bus stop, so they would occasionally see me. They are kind people, I just become paranoid in seeing them due to the constant comparisons. It became too overwhelming.

Too overwhelming to deal with.

And on June 7th, around 12-1am, I tried to end that overwhelming feeling.

On a particularly awful night, I just couldn’t take it. This journal was called “An Attempt Was Made” for a reason. I went to the balcony of my apartment that was on the twelfth floor. I placed a chair on the corner of the glass guarded balcony, and forced myself to try and step on the chair. I eventually get both my feet on the chair, and I try to jump.

I tried to commit suicide.

I failed, of course, but I don’t know what stopped me. It wasn’t my family missing me. It wasn’t my friends not having me around. It wasn’t even this site wondering what was happening, or friends on Discord asking where I was. It was something. I just don’t know what. And it wasn’t the possibility of a future. With a wife (or husband). With a child. With a home. With projects. It was something that I’ll never know. And I want to know. Maybe that knowledge would give me purpose. The last message that I had sent anyone was an apology to my Uni friend for failing Uni during the start of the year. That would have been the last message I had ever sent if I went through with it. Truth be told, the strange thing that came after that was that whenever I had any anxiety or panic attacks, the thing that calmed them down was the fact that I had tried to end it.

I told the GP later on last time she called about it. She recommended some places in Adelaide which will call soon later on this week.

I told my family about it later on. And then friends. It has been hard to accept that I had tried to do that at times, but honestly, with the amount of stresses I’ve had and with the lack of any professional help being accessed, it was really a matter of time before an attempt was made.

I have stayed up countless nights trying to get Uni assignments done, spending several days staying in doing work, with rarely any healthy food to keep me going. Even then, the assignments were barely on time. Most of them were days late, even with extensions, and the last assignment passed the due date for it and the time where I could still send it and it wouldn’t be a fail. The assignment which caused the second most stress this semester was two days and seventeen hours late. The assignment after that was four days late. The last assignment was eight days late. One of the assignments was the make-or-break assignment. The assignment that could cost me my time in Uni. Thankfully, I got a credit for that assignment, meaning that subject is a pass. The other two I haven’t received the marks for, and I am not hopeful for them to be pleasant grades.

It didn’t help that the assignment that took the most time, and it was a group assignment, without the group aspect. A group of two, leaving one (me) to edit an entire short movie on my own, without any sort of help from the other member whatsoever. He was constantly asking if it was done, without asking if I needed any help. It came to the point where he would constantly contact me on Messenger, leaving posts on my Facebook wall for everyone to see, and somehow getting my mobile number, something that I never gave him at all. Stress wasn’t great for all of the people working on the film, as the script that I wrote didn’t go over well with the cast, which is fine, since I wrote it during a bad time, and it was just something that I wanted to hear being written down by me. We ad-libbed most of the dialogue as what I wrote didn’t feel natural. During the end of production, people were annoyed by it, and I am not surprised. It wasn’t an organized day, but then that is because I had to find the location and still work on assignments during that point. I got more help on other assignments from people who had finished their own work.

On a more positive note, I’ve moved. I’m away from the city and only a walk away from the University. I am away from that roommate, and I have a double bed that I can rest on rather than a single bed, pushed against the wall, like in the other place. I’ve only been in there for over a week, and I haven’t got to know most of the people living in the place. Some of people I’ve seen are rather nice, always saying hi. Really, I’m only in there to get my own space with better walls that block out sounds. There are minor issues, but compared to the place that I was staying in, this is head and shoulders better than where I was.

But it isn’t all fun. On the 24th of June, I attended a VFX night at my University, that was supposed to be on during 2020, but of course that didn’t happen. Already, I was nervous, and it didn’t help that the first thing that I see was my friend, the one who I based my assignment on. It was already not a good start, and the other friends who have gone on to do VFX work were there also. As we entered, I already felt like the black sheep amongst the group of friends. I was silent. As I went into the auditorium for the VFX night and as it continued, I realized that I had no future in that industry. All the talk of what they expected was something I couldn’t provide. I couldn’t do it. But the comment that hit the most was when the organization that my friends were in for their final year said that their organization was like “a family”. That made me feel like I was certainly the black sheep amongst my friends. When the night ended, I went out to get a beer, chugged it and broke down outside, crying and sniffling. I immediately called my family to try and calm me down, and then called my friend to do the same. He did a good job getting me to settle. He said that I needed help, professional help. And thankfully, I am getting that soon. I am hearing from them tomorrow.

Tomorrow, I’ll meet my friends for one night. I’m not ready, but I need people.

It has been tough. But I’ll be seeing my family next week. I need them.

I need help.

Take care.

Memory has been hard to recount much of what happened this month, I can’t recall much, but that could be due to another increase of me hitting my head once again. My OCD has been at it’s worse, and it just has been increasing with how absolutely awful it has been. My mind continues to keep me up at night, with my OCD trying to make me think that I am far worse of a person than I am. I’ve had several sleepless nights due to my OCD, and I have been so tired throughout this month, it is unbearable. I have had the MRI that I mentioned last month, as well as a blood test for my anxiety and there has been no irregularities. I’m glad that there aren’t any issues from the two (perhaps even three at this point) concussions, though I’m not holding my breath, I know that the possibility of some serious damage could be just around the corner.

Throughout the month, I’ve been constantly comparing myself to others, especially my friends, because I cannot help but see my shortcomings more than my strengths. I cannot help but see where I am compared to where they are. They are all in third year, all working with a VFX company who has worked on things like Game of Thrones and Logan and some of the films of the MCU, and I am redoing first year all over again. I’ve become paranoid in seeing those friends. I don’t know why I’m just scared of them, I shouldn’t be, they have done nothing wrong. They are just mental reminders of where I am progressing.

The roommate issues have just gone insane at this point, and I’ve stayed so many days and nights at the Uni due to not wanting to confront this roommate and not be in the place while he’s taken over the whole area. He fails to know what a shared apartment is. Not only that, but he’s practically brought in his girlfriend so many times, she might as well pay rent. He isn’t supposed to do that without both mine and my other roommate’s knowledge that he is bringing her over, and yet he does not say a single word about that, but we hear multiple loud noises coming from the kitchen, because he cannot control the volume of his voice, nor television. Even harmless acts of moving his plates away, he decides to act petty by turning off my frying pan while I’m cooking. He even has said that he does not want to share his toilet paper. He is the only one who has ever said that, every single roommate, even the most awful, has not even tried to stop others from using the toilet paper that is bought for all of the roommates. I’m looking for another place and I am having an inspection on the Friday. It is right by where the Uni is as well, which is a huge benefit. The building where I am staying currently has been awful since day one, and the people running it are incompetent, and many of the issues that I have, several others have had. Nationally. Not just where I am. They have a 1.4 rating on review sites, all of the negative ones being from people who have stayed there. I’ll be glad to leave such a toxic environment, despite missing a great view of the city.

Assignment-wise, it has been okay. One HD, one pass, and the other two assignments have not been graded as of yet, but I’m not looking forward to the results of them. I don’t have my hopes up for the assignments that are yet to be marked. I have been reminded by the people at the Student Engagement Unit that if I fail this year, perhaps even this semester, then that’s it. No more Uni. No more going to the bakery that is near the Uni. No more catching up with friends. No more exploring the bookshops.

I don’t need the reminder said by them. I know the reminder, it lives in my head constantly.

I caught up with that friend who blocked me for the first time in ages to talk about the situation. Basically, the bridge has been burnt to the ground for how he responded to my responses. I talked to him saying that he could have apologized, how annoyed I was that he had lied to me, and how he kept me believing that I had a job. He said that he didn't need to apologize, that I was in my own little "fantasy world" and as he said that he had a meeting, he said the words "It's over". He was shaking as well, like really shaking. Well, quite honestly, it isn't my problem anymore. If he wants to believe that there isn't any fault on his side, let him do so. I know that he and I were both wrong, but he clearly doesn't want to do anything about his own faults. I had to go to him while he was distracted to talk about it. And that was 2 months after the event happened. I'm over it. If he says that I'm living in "a fantasy world" and believes that he shouldn't apologize because he "didn't do anything wrong", it's just a wake-up call that I shouldn't try to be his friend again because it isn't worth it. I got closure which is what I wanted to happen 2 months ago, and honestly, I got exactly what I thought was going to happen, so it isn’t a real big loss.

The most unfortunate thing to happen in May was the cancellation of my appointment with the psychiatrist. I had to wait 5 months and an extra week on top of that, and when I went in, they asked for $190. I didn’t have that. I was already struggling enough as it is, as well as my mother. I already sent them a bunch of answers to their questions, most of which were in the yes category on how I felt on that day and prior, and a lot of them were in the positives of not feeling mentally well. I couldn’t afford it, so they cancelled.

Five months.

Five months waiting.

Just for them to decline.

That is when the Overload art happened.

I’m just glad that I’m forcing myself to do art.

June won’t be better. I’m just going to say it, it won’t be better at all.

Take care.

I honestly don’t know how to start this off. I don’t know even how to describe this month to you, let alone myself. I guess I’ll just start off with what I did at the very start. The first few days of April were fine. Even fun in some cases. My family visited me, staying in a really lovely beachside town cheap motel, right next to an incredible café. We visited my uncle, who is feeling a lot better than he was during 2020, due to the death of his wife, and my auntie who I miss dearly. Despite some negatives, it was a good start to the month. It would have been fantastic if it stayed like that.

Unfortunately, things got stressful and quick about it. The first pile of assignments were ready to be finished and handed up. And despite my confidence in saying that I have it under control, my mind completely locked up at the mere attempt of putting word to screen. Even assignments that I had multiple extensions on, I couldn’t focus on any of them despite even staying overnight to complete the tasks. It also didn’t help that the problematic roommate decided to damage a huge part of a practical assignment that took around a hundred dollars to even try and get ready. That was the final straw for me, he now had a fifth warning from the company who gave us the apartment. But their response was less than helpful. Despite this being the third unit I’ve gone to, and had around 7 roommates prior to this one, they are now asking for more. And since they have contacted him about it, denying all of the issues that I have raised with him, he has decided to hide his acts so I cannot provide them with any proof of his awful behaviour. During that, I stayed most nights at the Uni to try and get work done and I managed to send up something for every task, though two were unfinished. Some I was rather happy with what I had achieved in the small time limit I had left to complete these.

And then the results came back.

One credit. Three fails.

I expected two fails, but I received three. For an assignment that was complete, handed up, and wasn’t a day late. Even the comments I received mentioned that the work was “good”, “great” and “nice”, and yet I received a fail. Due to the fatigue of staying up late once again, I had forgotten some elements, like a checklist, yet other comments made about the assignment had made no sense to me, as I had followed their exact instructions.

And then I had a holiday. And I felt worse. I honestly don’t know how to even describe the emotions that I was feeling during this holiday. It was a cluster of emotions that all combined into this one negative emotion that I was feeling throughout most of that holiday. I was beginning to doubt myself a whole lot more, wondering if I had made the right choices this year. I was incredibly angry towards even the most minor of inconveniences. I felt isolated, I became so tired as I lost so much sleep from repeated anxiety and panic attacks. Despite what good there was during that holiday, I just can’t get myself to enjoy it without constantly going back into this feedback loop of anger and sadness. My phone broke as well, meaning the things that I had on there, from messages from friends, to important info that I needed for the following weeks was now all gone. I had hoped that the phone would save them onto the SIM card, but unfortunately not. So, I have lost contacts with rather important people that I need, like my GP who prescribes my medication (I am also on a new one which is not doing much).

Throughout that holiday, I discovered something about myself which I don’t enjoy: seeking approval. I seem to do it so much with so many people, including all of you. I’m unsure where this issue stems from, whether it would be from early stages of my life, my family, the first school I went to, but I have this need for someone to just go “You did good”. I shouldn’t need someone to say that to me, I should have some self-approval and acceptance, but I just don’t. Throughout that holiday, it felt like I was always seeking for approval. I constantly see myself as less. I see more of the problematic side of things, rather than the positive side of things. I feel as if I am fighting a battle just to get a say in things. I hate feeling like this. But I constantly do.

I’m honestly wondering if I should continue being on this site as well. I am unsure what I can do. And with certain projects coming up, I’m honestly wondering if I should just decline them, and let someone else do it with the creative effort that I am currently lacking right now.

May will be better. I’m going for my MRI, and I’m getting some professional help.

Take care, everyone.

Another month down. And in some ways, it has been better, and in others, it hasn’t. I’m back at University, and when I say back, I do mean back. I have successfully appealed my preclusion, meaning that I am fully back at the University to work without the added pressure of a misstep where I can fail at any moment. They are still observing what I do, which is fine and honestly something I need, but I have gone about working better at the Uni for the most part. Again, for the most part. Recently with the added assignments, things haven’t been exactly well when it comes to stress. How bad has it been?

Another self-inflicted concussion.

I had hoped, and I had tried to stop myself from causing any more damage. Unfortunately, I couldn’t help myself. On the 24th this month, I continued to hit my head prior to this date, but I felt exactly how I did during the first blow. I went to the emergency room at the hospital during 10:30pm at night and after a seven hour wait, I got the news of “Okay, so we’re going to have to let you go”, meaning that I have no idea how severe it is, but according to just guessing, it could be something mild. Even then, another mild concussion was not something that I wanted again. My anxiety overwhelmed me enough to do it again, but even then, I knew what I was doing. I didn’t expect it to happen so soon, but I knew that it could happen again. I felt like such an idiot and I still do. Thankfully, my technique with dealing with anxiety has been better. I’ve been doing some breathing exercises which have helped stabilize my thought pattern. The fear of doing damage to my brain has not left me. I have asked my doctor for an MRI. My hope is that I will get one soon, because that fear will never leave me.

The added stress might also have to do with the new roommate that I have. Yes, I have another one, and he is like the combined faults of the previous roommates that I had trouble with. Red flags already waved themselves on the first day that I had met him. On a discussion about how countries have handled the virus and how well the NZ prime minister did, he said that men were better than women. That was his contribution. That pin drop of a comment. Throughout the month, he has been nothing but a pain. Moments where I can relax and try to just calm down have been moments where he has decided to take over any living space to play loud music. I enter the apartment while he has closed all the blinds, making it completely difficult to even see my way around the place. He even closed the blind to an open door, which he still does, making an already problematic building that has bug issues have even more bugs inside. He also has made passive aggressive comments about how I choose to stay at the University to do work. I have told the apartment company about his behavior and they have given him warnings. He still continued to behave like he does.

In addition, I had a fight with a friend. My friend apparently had a job at a collector’s store that we both go to, he didn't tell me prior to going to it so when him and the person behind the counter were talking about their website and their banners, I thought that I could help out as well. He didn't tell me that he had a job, nor did the person behind the counter so they included me anyway in the conversation. I left thinking that I had a job with my friend doing banners. He said nothing about his job and how they wanted him because they had been chatting for months and continued to say "Yeah, man, it'll be fun working together". I texted my mother, father and older brother saying that I had a job. He knew that I did that and continued to act as if I had a job. It wasn't until 9pm where he told me that they wanted just him. He didn't apologize for lying to me, he just told me that it was his job. I felt like a leech of a friend, but I still continued to work on a banner. He kept saying that it was his job and still didn't apologize. My banner even made it onto the website before they said "We only wanted your friend". When I showed him the note, he said "Yeah they talked to me and they only wanted one person from the start man. They talked to me about it too. It's unfortunate but I did get the job in the beginning". No apology. I lashed out and swore at him.

He responded with this: "I mean you did just come in and I didn't want to say anything because I didn't want to be rude. It's hard when you were so excited about it. I didn't want to make you upset. Anyways if you're going to like that about it. That's fine. Just shows what kind of person you are. You never had the job to begin with. It was mine and you just came in and tried to take it yourself. You didn't even ask There are people who care about you and don't want to see you upset."

It's that final line that messes with me. There are people who care about you and don't want to see you upset. He upset me because he just straight up lied to me and kept lying. I called out his behavior and he blocked me. I later apologized to him on Friday, but I also wanted to discuss it with him in person so we can put bad blood behind us. He didn't even show up. He was in the canteen. I tried to end this anger so we could still see eye to eye, but clearly, he didn't want to stop it. He didn’t even show up during that party which was for my friend’s 21st. If he didn’t go because of me, what friend does that make him?

On a more positive note, I went to my friend’s 21st party, and for one night, I felt my anxiety just leave. That one night meant a lot to me, but I still issues. I went to a party where everyone is on their final year and experiencing some of the most challenging yet satisfying subjects and assignments, and I was repeating subjects. From first year. I left that party with my mind focusing on shame. It made me feel ashamed that for one night I had fun. I didn’t worry. I met friends. I made friends. I vented and just relaxed. But as I left, my anxiety felt like it was making up for lost time. I recorded some events from the night with a camera that I got for my birthday. I’ve rewatched some of the clips. It makes me smile. So, I’m glad that I have that.

I still have assignments to go and I’m not feeling the confidence that I had during the start of the month, but I shall push on through and do them. I have to. I already know what it will be like if I don’t.

It’s been a stressful and yet sometimes quiet month for me.

At least I have my family to see on the weekend to look forward to early next month.

So, this hasn't been a good month for me. Big shocker, I know. I have been incredibly overwhelmed by what has happened this month and I am not coping well with the amount of stress. As some of you might know, I gave myself a concussion. A self inflicted concussion. It was around mid February where during another awful anxiety panicked state caused by my mind trying to get a reaction, I hit myself right on the middle of my head and panicked for an entirely different reason. Thankfully, it wasn't too serious enough according to my GP. I'm glad that nothing looks damaged as of currently. If anything continues to cause pain is when I'll be going for an MRI. Unlikely, but I have no idea if this pain will last.

On top of that, despite failing Uni, the Preclusion Committee hasn't decided whether or not I'm back at the University, and they will come to their decision in a couple of weeks. What does that mean? I'm going to Uni while waiting to see if I can come back to Uni, leaving me with little to no time to prepare myself for it. Thankfully I enrolled prior to them notifying me that they having not come to a decision. I have at least prepared that important part of Uni.

Throughout this month I haven't had enough time to let myself relax. So much has been weighing on my mind, and I can't speak out about any of my problems because they are pushed to the side for other things that people want me to do. There were plans that I had set in my mind that were pushed aside for things that I was forced to do that I haven't done before and have no confidence in myself doing them. I haven't been able to talk to friends and since I'm going back to Uni, I probably won't be able to speak to them for even longer. The people in my life want to usually rip the band-aid off when it comes to my anxieties and OCD, but that isn't how I work, and the more they try, the more I no longer feel safe where they are.

I know that there are two days left in the month, but this will be the last time that I'll be able to use the internet while at home, so I might as well use it while I can.

I've just grown more angrier as this month has progressed and since I have no way of venting that anger, it feels like I'm suffocating. It's getting harder to breathe in some cases. And usually, if I don't have a way to vent in a healthy manner, I take it out on myself. The feeling of doing what had caused the concussion is honestly growing again. I fear that I'll do it again.

I was honestly going to save this for the end of February, but it has been on my mind and I can't stop thinking about it. During the very, very early hours on Tuesday, I gave myself a concussion. I panicked about how hard I got hit on the head, and ended up going to the emergency room around three in the morning. I want to make this part incredibly clear.

I gave myself a concussion. A self inflicted concussion.

At even an early age, a coping mechanism that I did was hitting my head. It wasn't at all helpful, but it was really the only mechanism that I could think of. This was before any sign of OCD that I had during 2014, this was, in my mind, a way to stop my anxiety flaring up when it was at it's worst. In recent years, the anxiety has just got worse and worse and recently the horrible coping mechanism has just became the norm for me to do to end these thoughts. The mechanism flared up during 2020, and I was fearing that I would have an aneurysm before the age of 22, a very real fear that I had since a family member of mine had one and never became the person I knew her to be since then. I tried to stop myself since one of my recent talks with my GP, but everything during these recent weeks has just worsened my anxiety and it drove me to do it again.

The last hit that I did, I felt this shot go from where I hit my head right to the front of my brain. That feeling made me felt sick and panicked. I had never felt something like that before. I freaked out, looking up where in the brain this feeling struck, finding out that it is right mid-way on the frontal lobe. I asked people for help, saying that I should call my GP, but this feeling was making me think that I have permanently damaged my brain, so one of my friends suggested that I should call a health service phone line. I did and described how I was feeling and they immediately suggested that I go right to the emergency room. This was right on three in the morning, so I had to wake my parents up on a day where they all had work.

After the hours of waiting, they said that it was a concussion. They gave me Panadol to help lower the current effects that I was still feeling and am currently still feeling even now. I'm still terribly scared that what I have done might damage me permanently. I am six days away from visiting my GP, who knows what she's going to say about this. I'm just ashamed in myself that I haven't handled these stressful moments well. And because of recent events happening this year alone, I'm terrified if I'll do it again.

The phone call saying if I'll be coming back to Uni will happen in the morning. I don't know how I'll respond.

I'm still taking Panadol. It honestly still hurts in the areas which I hit and where the static feeling shot to the front of my brain.

I apologize that there hasn't been a post, story or image, during last month. This month has been a hectic one. I don't know how to start this journal off without being completely blunt, but I might as well let the cat out of the bag...

I failed Uni.

I didn't complete all of my subjects, not even half, and I'm trying to fight to not get precluded from Uni for two years. I am ashamed that I was stupid enough to not work through a lot of the things during last year (both work related and mental health related) because it is completely and utterly my fault that I am at this stage of my life, where I could have done so much better. I could have pushed through like last year and at least managed to pass through the second semester, but I didn't. I got stuck. I got lazy. I got anxious. And it's because of my own actions that I am trying to get back in. I contacted the Uni Preclusion Group and we are having a meeting sometime in February.

I'm now taking sleeping tablets so I can get to sleep better. The results have been mixed, sometimes I have a good night's sleep and other times, I wake up in the middle of the night just like before. I'm hoping that this medication will be alright. Unfortunately, my actual medication is unavailable where I am, so I have to go searching for some pharmacy that has the exact brand that isn't in my home town.

My older brother is still in another state, meaning that we haven't seen him for months. He sadly missed out on my younger brother's 18th birthday and his two parties. I am honestly starting to miss him more and more.

It's been stressful, but it is completely my fault that it has been stressful. Not only for me, but also for my family.

Fuck this year. Simply put, fuck this year.

As you know, I haven't had the greatest year, but then again, there is barely anyone I know who has called this year "great" in any sense, personal or otherwise. Even before this ungodly year started, it already was starting off poorly in Australia. We were still in one of the worst bushfires in Australian history. 500 Million animals dead, of those 8000 Koalas. 4 million hectares burnt, 961 houses burnt, 17 people missing, 17 people dead. Where was our Prime Minister in our time of need? On holiday. In Hawaii. He knew this was happening and still went on holiday. He even took pictures with fellow Australians who were there. In addition, the firefighters' funding was cut before it all started. They warned the government about the bushfires and they didn't listen. They were paying for petrol for their fire engines out of their own wallets. Even worse was that the money that millions donated towards the victims of these bushfires barely got anything. The Red Cross, Salvation Army and Vinnies charities held the money that people donated for the victims. So, the victims who lost everything, their home, their food, their possessions including things like photo albums, mostly stayed like that. Even the NSW firefighters were greedy, saying that the money that was donated for ALL firefighters should mostly go to them. I'll be mentioning NSW a lot, especially their dim-witted premier. Kangaroo Island was completely destroyed by these fires. And that was just the start.

February then happened, and all I can say is this: I should have talked to my auntie more before she passed. The news of her being in the hospital was already depressing. I saw a 70 year old man, my dear uncle, cry like I have never seen. Me and my stupid positivity thought that "Everything would be okay, she'll be alright, and make it out". I was wrong. I was incredibly wrong. When the news about how they would turn off the plug hit, it hit hard. I wept so much. I whimpered out a hymn, said my final words to her, and kissed her for the final time. And that was on the same day that I had first moved in to my new apartment. Great start to Uni, right. Right after it was announced that she had passed, I didn't want to do anything, but my mother said that I should go to the Tim Minchin free concert just to get the fresh air. I'm glad I did, but I couldn't help but tear up at "White Wine in the Sun" by that point.

March put me in Lockdown as the moronic NSW premier accepted a boat, an UNQUARANTINED boat into NSW, and they proceeded not to quarantine the people there as soon as they went off. That one act put all of Australia in the shit. My Uni campus had been shut because someone who had a positive COVID case was there, so any practicals and tutorials were cut so short. It was already difficult enough this month due to being the pallbearer for my auntie's funeral. From that funeral, I heard my uncle ask his nephew to say goodbye to Nana. That still stings me. As the world goes mad, I was just glad that the then current roommate I had bought a bulk pack of toilet paper that lasted for nearly the rest of my time with him (the first half of the semester).

April brought the death of one of my childhood heroes, Tim Brooke-Taylor. I watched The Goodies since I was 5 with my Dad, so the death of him hurt. It hurt more knowing that this was the 50th Anniversary year of The Goodies. The celebrations became bittersweet, and then even more bitter, because the channel that broadcast the show did nothing in memory of him. Nothing. His co-star had to do everything just to get a tribute broadcast on radio. Everything at this stage just becomes a blur. I can't remember much of anything that happened, because most of my life was spent inside trying to understand what to do for Uni, but not doing much since I couldn't get the programs they have.

May decided that an Anti-Vax rally in the CBD of where I was staying was the right thing to do. Also, Rio Tinto destroys an ancient Aboriginal site. How would you feel if something like the Vactian City was destroyed by a mining company? You would be outraged, right? How do you think the Aboriginal people who have been lived in Australia for 50,000 years feel? Not only that, this isn't even the first time that this has happened to the Aboriginal people this year.

June was where I tried to do something for BLM. I signed numerous petitions, and donated when and where I can. I'm doing more than the Australian PM did and the NSW Premier. The Aussie PM said outright that Aboriginal slaves didn't happen. He said that there was never any slavery in Australia. I've been in both public and private schools and we were taught this. We were taught that there were Aboriginal slaves. How does he not know? Also the NSW premier banned BLM protests saying that she would never "green light" activists flouting COVID rules, but she would green light a boat of UNQUARANTINED people into NSW and proceed to not quarantine them as soon as they get off. Inverse ratio. Size of mouth. Size of brain. I also try to support trans lives as best as I could.

July started with a new roommate who already became a problem. He left food to get moldy. He didn't pack up his things. He kept me up at night. He made every inch of the main room his, not putting clothes away, and spreading moldy food everywhere. Flies were everywhere (but then again, they were everywhere. The first time I arrived, my parents noticed all the dust and flies. That followed every change from floor to floor), so I moved. And so I moved to Apartment B. My artwork that I post here was stolen and being sold on eBay, along with many other Doctor Who artists. He still is selling it. He's already been contacted and he won't stop. In addition, 52 hectares of koala habitat approved for bulldozing thanks to, you guessed it, the NSW premier.

August. The roommate decides to make my life miserable. I didn't feel safe. I honestly felt so unsafe there that I packed toiletries in my school bag and stayed at the Uni. I did that for several days during this month. And this was right before my 21st. Suicidal thoughts grew. I ate a lot. I stayed inside in my room until he had gone to sleep so that I could just get out. It got worse throughout the month to a point where I just couldn't handle it anymore. I missed calls from my doctor because I said that I wasn't in a safe place to answer calls. From there I was diagnosed with clinical depression. Right after my birthday. It wasn't until...

September... where I left. I felt hollow. I just felt like I didn't want to continue doing much of anything. I just continued working on Uni things and some personal projects. I had no internet so working on things was only possible if I went to Uni to get things there and then worked on them if I had what I needed. Not much happened. It was just September. Watched Threads though, that was... fun?

October had more COVID cases in Victoria as morons gathered on St Kilda beaches, breaking COVID rules. I had to protest due to reforms to cut more artistic Uni students, raising costs for students like me. Our government already hated the arts, and now they are pushing to make Uni students miserable. On top of that, a sacred Aboriginal tree, Djab Wurrung, was cut down and bulldozed for a highway.

I can't say much about November. I did so much for The Goodies 50th Anniversary that nothing really became memorable. I enjoyed what I did (or in some cases, still doing). I discovered that I can't trust some charities as they gave a lot of money to the Liberal party and to, you guessed it, the NSW premier. I was stuck in lockdown once again, without internet. And my laptop broke. You might think "Well, surely Christmas was okay", but even then it was not. My brother is still in NSW. And as much as we might argue and bicker, I admit to myself that I missed him. The border is closed and locked until the virus cluster ends. And it won't. I'm sorry, it won't until the premier is retired or fired. Until then, my brother will most likely miss my younger brother's birthday. As well as his other family guests. My hope is non-existent. The only thing that made me feel really, truly happy was the announcement that Dearshul was having a baby. There was no standout day like last year. There was no moment of true happiness. The closest standout day of positivity was when I saw Tim Minchin, but that was on the day that my Aunty passed, so there was no positive. My OCD has gone to the point where I can barely sleep soundly. I keep waking up out of fear, out of things that my mind wants me to believe. My fear of my own mortality has grown after even a week of using a new medication that I'm now off and the side effects are still happening now. I stopped using it two to three months ago and it's still affecting me. My depression has got worse, and knowing that I couldn't contact any of you when most of the troubles were happening sucked. I at least managed to see family where I could, but the level of me explaining that I'm not okay is still not getting any better. I felt trapped even around people. I still do.

I'm sorry, but I don't think 2021 will be any better. I'm sorry. I don't have anything to say that could make me feel good. We as a species aren't getting any better, any smarter, we just are. We just exist.

But I will say this. Try to make this year better. It all relies on the individual to get this year to be better. Do the right thing. Accept everyone. Be safe. Take care of yourselves.

Have a new year.

Well, I'm back. It hasn't been at all pleasant, these past few days. It also hasn't been pleasant to hear that this would have never happened if one of the cases didn't straight up lie to police about what he was doing when he got the virus. So, yeah, back now. Unsure for how long and unsure how many other liars are out there with a case of the corona.

First day of lockdown already started with a mess. My computer malfunctioned, the computer I use for basically everything was glitching up, until the screen was nothing more than a white square amidst a black screen. I panicked and restarted everything. The square was gone and everything looked okay, until I looked at the files. Some of the thumbnails for the files didn't even show up. So that was worrying. The photos and videos that were on my hard drive were now moving at half the speed and half the quality. From there I left it alone, hoping tomorrow that it would be better. Not only that but my student allowance didn't show up. I was already low, both financially and mentally after dealing with the computer, so to come across that I had no way of supporting myself, or to get food, it was not what I wanted to see first thing in the morning.

The second day, perfect time to try and see if my laptop works again, and now the thing won't even turn on. There goes the projects, stories, art, everything that I was working on. One thing that I was working on was a video for fans of The Goodies for the 50th anniversary. It was very close to being sent to them for help and guidance. Now, I'm unsure if the file has saved anymore. I can't work on it at the Uni either, different systems won't work. I use Sony Vegas and they use Adobe. I tested out to see if they could work, and every time I used it, it crashed. Around a month's work just completely unable to be finished unless the laptop is fixed. On the more positive side, I began reading The Odyssey by Homer. One of the chapters that I have read has been incredible to visualize in my mind. It would be good writing stories inspired by this, but inspiration usually comes late and I have no way of writing it in a way I would like unless typed.

Throughout this whole four day hell, I've been starting to grow paranoid of my surroundings and of my roommates. It could be a level of fear and distrust created by the last roommate I had, but I've been finding it hard to really stay in a state of calm because of one of my roommates. The other roommate hasn't been inside the apartment for a few weeks and my mind has made up stories of the other roommate murdering the other and then coming for me if I question him too much. Stupid, irrational, but it would explain his joker laugh that keeps me until 3 in the morning.

The fourth day technically wasn't in lockdown, but I count it as a part of the lockdown phase for one reason. I couldn't go to the Uni for work and to just access the internet. The bus trip down was hell in itself. On one of the stops, someone boarded the bus, kept fidgeting about and changed seats. It wasn't until a woman boarded that he yelled out to her a certain C word (not the alternate name for chicken, that C word). He yelled at her. In public. On a bus. With other people. And from there, he decided to harass the woman by moving closer and closer to her. He was on drugs, there's no way he wasn't on drugs where I was.

Now I'm back and I don't know for how long. All I know is that I want to go home as soon as possible. I'm tired of being in the city. I'm tired of being in an awful apartment. I'm tired of the memories that the apartment has now for me. I'm tired of constantly having to go to one place just to access internet. I'm tired of the bugs that are everywhere in my apartment. I'm just tired.

Thank you for the messages on the previous journal. They were something nice to read and hear how your day was.

There is a COVID hotspot now near the streets where my apartment block is.

It is around a 5 minute drive to it from where the bus from the Uni to the CBD drops me off.

I am deeply, deeply nervous at this point, but I'll be honest, I knew this would happen the second I saw people in the streets when the first lot of restrictions were now common. People without masks and not social distancing. I knew that there would be a second wave, no doubt about it, I'm not the most optimistic of people, but this close to where not only I currently am living, but where my mother is currently for conferences and her hotel is close by.

I'm scared. I am frightened. And since I have no internet in my apartment, I don't know who or where I can go to if lockdown hits.

This is the first few stages. This could be prevented in mere days, but the lack of people with masks that I saw just in the afternoon today don't give me much hope.

Uni work has just halted. The documentary assignment will be impossible to do if there is another lockdown. This could mean that I fail.

If you want to help, just leave a comment and tell me how your day was. Give me something to look forward to when I come back, depending on how long that could be. Could be tomorrow, it could be two weeks. Could be until the end of the month.