So I've recently started the (upward? downward?) spiral into adulthood by moving away to live on my own for uni. Well, if you can class living on your own as living in an old fashioned house with 92 other people that you had never met before going to uni (nope, that's not a typo, there are 92 people in this house).
So I guess that's definitely NOT living on my own then. Despite the house descending into chaos and clashes that are literally worthy of being featured on Big Brother every now and then, it's been hilarious and fantastic and I've met some of the most amazing people (and some of the WORST people, but I'm trying to be optimistic here).
It's coming to the end of my first year, and with exams looming next week and the realisation that I will no longer be a bright-eyed-bushy-tailed fresher (Was I even this to begin with? The bags under my eyes are so obvious I'm surprised I've not been charged 5p for them), I am panicking. This is probably the toughest thing I've ever done and it's only my first year.
But at the same time, I don't think I've ever been this excited for a summer. The city of York is absolutely stunning, and I have to keep pinching myself every now and then just to remind myself that I'm living here. I've made it out of the place I grew up, I got away from the toxicity of a place I wanted to get away from and boy have I upgraded.
Despite the stress, I'm finding it easier to breathe here.
I'm finding it easier to take a step back and say "I'm going to be okay."