It's nearly over

Warning; this post is mostly (entirely) a rant; rhetoric spiralling into near-despair. I will try to make the next post better-possibly with another poem.

Right, tomorrow is the start of week 8 in the University calender. There are 10 weeks in the term leading up to Christmas, which means I've only got 3 weeks to go.

I'm having mixed feelings about this and many things at present. I'm getting used to Uni, the panic attacks are less frequent, but at the same time, I still have no energy/inclination to do work outside of lectures, and this is getting frustrating, because I want to do this properly, but there's another part of me that just switches off when I start work, and it's hard to do what I have to do when half your thoughts are somewhere else.

Also not helping is the fact that the only coursework I have to do this year is Electronics which involves 3 hours of lab time every Tuesday afternoon for 4 weeks, starting last Tuesday. This would not be so bad apart from the fact that I have a few problems with electronics:

1. The lecturers are boring;
2. The lecture contents are confusing;
3. The confusing contents are complemented by badly written lecture handouts and poorly presented lectures;
4. There is no incentive to try and get over such obstacles to find the heart of the subject as this too is incredibly boring and comes across as not worth the effort.

I went to the first lab, and found that as I had suspected might happen, I had no idea what I was doing. Looking for something positive I noticed that apparently almost no one else had any idea either, so at least we were all in the same, somewhat waterlogged, boat. The lecturer of course was no help; any question that was asked would be answered in the patronising and slightly annoyed tone that implies the answerer is convinced of it's obviousness and the fact that everyone who isn't a congenital idiot has done it before and should therefore be fully conversant in the details.

Needless to say, it was one of the worst 3 hours of my life, I left with no more idea than I had gone in with and feeling rather worse than a bug which has been squashed under a boot which had not long previously stepped in some fresh fox excrement. And, joy of joys, I have 3 more weeks of this to come.

This and other events this week which I cannot so specifically lay my finger on, have left me swinging wildly between feeling okay and so black that pitch shines as a beakon of lightness before being totally swallowed in the depth of my unhappiness.

Although so far I have been able to act/react pretty normally when in conversation, particularly with my parents, my sleep which has never been good is now at a stage where I can either get absolutely no sleep or my body relents and I sleep very deeply at all the wrong times and for too long. I'm also starting to feel, as I mentioned, mixed feelings with regards to the end of term: I'm happy because of the holidays and the end of the labs, and I'm looking forward to Christmas; but at the same time, I'm worried, among other things, about how my change of schedule will affect my already pretty rubbish health/sleep patterns, and how I will be able to make use of the holiday which will be my best chance to consolidate what I've done this term and actually make sure that I know all I need to know about this term's stuff before we start learning more new things next term and I have to start again. Those and other worries which I can't quite work out how to articulate are all pretty banal and irrational, but they are what they are, and I can't shake them.

Right now, I really wish I was in bed, or working, but while being to tired to concentrate on work, I'm not tired enough to sleep. So I'm doing this: hardly productive and sounding pretty pathetic, leading me to decide that I'm going to stop, give up, and go to bed anyway. At least it'll be warm in there.