Realised that at 20 years of age I have spent a total of 4 and a half to 5 years in relationships with people that put me down and make me feel terrible about myself, convince me that I’m unnatractive and that I’m an embarassment to be around.
Sunday was au revoir Jake day, which ended up with six of us staying in the pub for a beer-pong lock-in. Everybody came back to our house (3/6 of us live together), and in the morning a man from the Red Cross bombknocked us. I answered the door in half a dressing gown and he accused me of stealing £1,000,000. Then lots of people who had been asleep came out from every angle of the house and accused him of robbing us, he ended up nervously running away.
Okay I remember this night, it was messy as shit but how the heck do I not know about this mental man coming to my front door the next morning.
I remember that I collapsed on the stairs the next day but not much else. Hmm.