Wednesday, February 15, 2017

A letter to my 18 year old self

Dear 18 year old Laura,

You have just finished school and are ready to set off to university. It is all you’ve ever wanted and you can’t wait to make your mark on the world. You’ve decided you want to be a lawyer, and the summer work experience placement where you looked after the partner’s baby for 3 weeks hasn’t put you off!

You’ve just split up with your high school boyfriend after 3 years. You’re ‘heartbroken’ for about a week and then you realise that you’re probably better off. I am sorry to say that you have not known real heartbreak yet – this will come a few years later. But we’ll get to that in a bit…

You probably want me to tell you that you’ll ace uni, get a first class degree and end up working for a prestigious law firm where you’ll make a real difference. Sorry, it doesn’t quite pan out that way. You’ll struggle. School and exams came naturally to you but at uni, everyone is clever, and you’ll never really feel like you’re good enough. You’ll get mediocre grades and will struggle through, and leave feeling a little bit lost.

When you’re 19, you’ll move to Glasgow and have a couple of amazing years living with friends in the West End. You’ll drink far too many cosmopolitans, date inappropriate men, and watch a lot of Grand Designs. [A bit of advice – I know your tax class is at 9am but you might want to go to that. It’s going to come in handy…]

When you’re 20 you will meet someone special – ‘the one who got away’ as it were. But you’ll be too messed up emotionally to make a go of it and you’ll treat him terribly and never really recover from the guilt. And only then will you face real heartbreak, for the love that never quite ran its course.

You will spiral in to a depression which almost results in you failing your third year at uni. You’ll sit in an exam hall and write nonsense because you don’t know the first thing about Roman Law. Gran will drag you to the GP, where you won’t admit that you’ve been formulating plans to slit your wrists and end it all, and you’ll take the meds and wear your fake smile and you’ll just about manage to pass the course and be allowed to go back for honours year.

I’d love to tell you that it gets easier, that those pills will make everything better. But the truth is you will struggle with your mental health for many years to come. It will take almost 10 years for you to get a real grip on it. You will suffer many panic attacks where you convince yourself that you are dying. You will show up at A&E more than once, only to be told that you’re not actually having a heart attack. You’ll feel like you’re going mad. But you’ll function enough to not let it show most of the time. Years later, a friend will say ‘But you were always so smiley, I had no idea.’ You will absolutely perfect the art of ‘faking it til you make it.’

But you will graduate. Unfortunately, it’s at a time where there are no jobs. So that traineeship that you’re after isn’t going to happen for you. But it all works out in the end and believe me, one day you will look back and thank your lucky stars that you didn’t become a solicitor.

When you’re 21 you will fall in love with the man you will eventually marry. Yes, I know it’s hard to believe that you will settle down one day – you thought you’d live like Carrie Bradshaw forever – but you’ll find your way to suburbia like the best of them. You’re going to move to Uddingston. You don’t even know where that is right now!

The man you’ll marry is a good egg. He will sweep you off your feet. He will save you. You will have a few tough years where your mental health issues get in the way. You won’t think you deserve the happiness that he offers, and you’ll subconsciously try and sabotage it with the crazy behaviour that you’ve always exhibited in relationships before. But he’ll stick around and one day it will click. You’ll realise, that actually, you want the good life. You want to be happy with this person forever. You can’t lose this…

…When you’re 26, you will stand on a beach pavilion in the Caribbean, the waves crashing behind you, and you’ll say the vows that you’ll agonise over for days the week before and you will mean every single word. From then on, the path to happiness comes easily for you. You will be the picture perfect cliché of marital bliss.

Eventually, after a rocky start to your career, you will find a job that you love and that you’re actually good it. And you know those tax lectures you didn’t go to? Well you’ll stand in front of a lecture hall full of students and deliver one of those lectures. You’ll spend many years studying. In fact, by the time you pass your final Chartered Tax Advisor exam, you’ll have been sitting exams for nearly half your life. But one day you’ll be done and you’ll go to the House of Lords, where you’ll be presented with a certificate that will hang proudly on your home office wall for many years to come.

In 2016, when you’re 28 years old, you will suffer a mental breakdown. You will work too hard and not look after yourself and you will fall apart for about three months. You will lock yourself in your bathroom and you will pull off your own skin in an attempt to get rid of the bugs that you believe are crawling over your skin. You will hit rock bottom.

But you will discover mindfulness, which isn’t even a thing yet, and you’ll slowly get better. You’ll develop the coping techniques that I know will get you through the rest of your living days and you’ll come out the other end better for it, finally, after all these years, self-aware enough to know that life is too important to suffer in silence.

I wish there was more advice I could offer you. I wish I could paint a happier picture of your 20s. I’m happy to say that your group of friends will still be your best friends 10 years later, and you’ll add some new friends to the mix too, which makes you luckier than most. But there’s other tough times ahead that I haven’t even mentioned. Illness will destroy your family. The world will become an increasingly scary place.

The truth is, you shouldn’t want to change anything. These experiences will shape you in to the confident 30 year old that you always knew you’d become eventually. So when times are tough, just have a little faith. You will somehow get through it all. Every one of your worst days will fade in to the background eventually. Keep fighting - you’ve got this.

Love from your (almost) 30 year old self.
xx




Wednesday, February 1, 2017

Our generation is fucked

I have deliberately not commented on the political climate as of late. You see, it’s particularly sad for me, because I used to work in politics. I was the one standing outside the train station in the pissing rain handing out leaflets that got thrown straight in to the recycling on a good day, and shoved straight back in your face on a bad day. I was the one that knocked on doors and got shouted at, spat at, and on one occasion, chased by a quite scary looking dog. I was the one that took calls when members of the public called our head office and called me a disgrace.

I put up with all of the above because I believed in something. I genuinely believed that there must be a better future for our generation. I don’t anymore. And I can’t think of any other way to put this, other than to say, we are fucked. We are fucked because we have no one to trust. Let’s look at the viable options here:

Vote Labour: Vote for a party that is so divided, it doesn’t even know what it represents anymore. Vote for a leader that his own party hate. Vote for a man that’s happy to take money from Iran (which let’s not forget, is a country that has zero respect for human rights.) Vote for a party which is essentially lost.

Vote Conservative: Vote for a Prime Minister that’s happy to cosy up to Trump. Vote for a former home secretary of 8 years who has done nothing to deal with our country’s immigration crisis. Vote for an environment secretary that backs fox hunting.

Vote UKIP: Vote for a man who hates everything the European parliament stand for, but is happy to take money from them (£84k a year by the way.) Vote for a party who want to legalise guns again. Vote for scrapping maternity pay.

[Vote Lib Dem: Do they still exist? I’ll say no more.]

Vote SNP: Vote for lies and self-delusion. Vote for complete incompetence – a government who have been in charge for, what, 9 years now and yet have completely failed the Scottish public. Vote for a first minister who’s own constituency resembles a ghetto, where residents living conditions are completely unacceptable (this is a place where rats, begging children, child sex workers and frequent rapes are the new normal.)

Or vote for nothing, and waive my democratic right.  I’ve often thought a ‘none of the above’ box on the ballot papers might be a good option. But then we’d all just vote for that and nothing would ever get done. For the first time in my life, I am considering not voting in the next election, because to vote for something, I need to believe. I need to trust. I need to want to stand out in the rain and hand out those flyers. And how can I trust any of the main parties right now? If I thought my vote might ignite any sort of positive change in society, then I would. But all I see is gloom for a long time to come. Our generation is fucked, and it makes me feel utterly dejected and depressed.