Is it cliche to start this post saying how funny it is that it’s only when things are going so so so perfectly well that it all comes crashing down? Probably – but I don’t care, because it couldn’t be more true. In fact, if there’s one saying that could sum up my twenties, it’s just that. It feels like I’m just living this on repeat, caught in a perennial yo-yo cycle of ups and down, over and over until I guess you hit 30, where I’d like to say it evens out, but if my 30+ pals are anything to go by, I’m not sure this ever happens either.
But truthfully, life has been a total shit fest lately. And no matter how much gloss I put out on here about jewellery and bags and other things that feel utterly pointless in light of the current state of the world, it can’t take away from the fact that the cracks have been starting to show. It feels like I’m having that elusive quarter life crisis, but not via a reawakening from waking up next to a kebab and a missing phone/purse/fave MAC lipstick, but from something else totally different.
You can only pretend that everything is okay for so long before you get a little bit bored of pretending. And by bored of pretending, I mean sitting on the mattress of your floor of your messy bedroom/home office in last night’s clothes drinking a milkshake from last nights takeaway, praying that the sparkly star filter on the Insta story you just uploaded is enough to mask the reality of what your life actually is right now. I’m a firm believer that with many things in life, it helps to fake it until you make it. Apart from orgasms. Trust me girls, don’t ever fake them because it’ll come back and bite you in the ass and not in a sexy way but I will save that lesson for another time. But what happens when you can’t fake it any longer? All of the bullshitting yourself catches up with you and you realise that yeah, things aren’t okay.
So here it is: life has been shit lately. Probably emphasised more by the fact I fell from such a stratospheric height of happiness, and magnified even further because I’m constantly posting about my life like it’s running smoother than well-lubed thighs during a bout of chub rub. I mean, just look at these photos I’ve used to accompany this post! But truth is, I’m not going to upload a photo of me looking sad because well, aesthetics, and this was a very spur of the moment post so gotta dig into the archives and pick something out that I’ve not used on here before.
I’m not going to go into much detail on why it’s been so awful, because it’s not my place to say. But problems have unfolded in my personal life – the kind of sad, shitty things that you hear happen to a friend of friend, but PRAY to a god you don’t even believe in and touch wood, just in the hope that it won’t ever happen to you. But then it does. Suddenly everything changes – nothing is the same again because it can’t be. There’s worries in the back of your mind at all times. But then, at the same time, oddly, everything stays the same. Because everyone has to try and be normal and move on and the world keeps on turning, and you have to turn with it.
Yeah, life was pretty sweet a few months back. After taking Fashion Slave full time in February, making more effort with YouTube, I finally felt like I had my shit together for someone in their mid twenties. For the first time I felt like my life had direction and stability (which is odd, considering blogging is a notoriously unstable job.) Rewind 18 months ago and I thought nothing would ever fall into place. I was low, so low, and had the worst self-worth and self-esteem imaginable. I felt like a fucking failure 99.99% of the time. I was your standard overqualified, underpaid millennial, struggling to get a job with any career progression in the industry I’d done two damn degrees to try and help get me there. When I was 15, I was sure that by the time I was 25 I’d be settled down with a boyfriend, a bank full of cash, and a killer career, probably engaged and about to buy my first house with my other half. Whereas when I was 21-24, the reality became crystal clear that the only sure thing in my life is that I most definitely always want to pay £1 extra to go-large on my McDonalds. Duh.
It’s as though a hazy window separates you from reality – stopping you from engaging fully with the real world. Eyes become glazed and your spark… well.. it fizzles out. It’s all too easy to neglect yourself. Everything was all stable and you felt truly #blessed, but this gilded path that was once laid before you has now been pulled away, and you’re walking into a pitch black tunnel with no iPhone torch app to help light the way. You have no idea what’s coming, what’ll happen, and it’s a head fuck.
I caught up with mine for dinner last night and I already feel half-cured from this slump. Somehow friends have this magic ability to build you up from nothing and make you feel like anything is possible. They make you feel like you can do it when you’ve been doubting yourself. They make you feel totally normal for feeling this way, because they’re feeling that too. And they make you see the light amongst the darkness.