Blogging Goodbye to Butterflies

Author: Honestly Bron

  • Time to step in at the deep end

    The car is all packed up and it is time to go. First year I jumped in at the deep end (heading all the way to Cardiff to study before I even felt ready) and then spent the year doggy paddling and treading water. This year I’m going to step in to the deep end, keep my head above the water and swim.

    Packing was an even bigger hassle than the first time ’round. If it’s possible, I think I’ve gotten even more unorganised. Most things are chucked in the car individually and if not they are in random boxes: There really is no method to the madness.

    I’m so excited I can’t stay sitting down for longer than two seconds and I haven’t stopped smiling all morning and yet so scared that the butterflies in my stomach won’t rest either. I don’t feel like eating, but that could be something to do with the fact I went out out last night and had one too many shots of sours. Drinking and dancing the night away was the perfect way to say goodbye to Chelmsford and to all of my friends until Christmas, even if it has left me a little delicate today.

    Anyway, sleep in the car should get rid of the bags under my eyes and lack of appetite shouldn’t be a problem for long: I have never successfully resisted purchasing food or coffee at a motorway services before now. I am sure by the time we stop for lunch I’ll be happy to eat as much as is Bronwenly possible.

    Now, to stop using my blog as an excuse, shut the laptop, get in the car and choose the best song to start the journey with. In roughly four hours time I should be collecting my keys from the letting agency and heading into my new flat. Here goes.

  • Two days till Take Two

    Just two more days left in Chelmsford.

    Part of me wants to ring Cardiff University and tell them I won’t be studying there this year after all because I’m sissying out and I’d like to stay home. I want to cry every time I consider saying another temporary goodbye to my friends and family. I’m meant to be a university student now, but I feel like I’m sixteen again and all I should be doing is spending time with friends at the park, going to Smirnoff Ice house parties and worrying about GCSE results . When I imagine waking up in my new room at uni on Sunday morning I want to run up to bed, hide under the duvet and never come out.

    The other part of me keeps telling everyone who asks just how much I am looking forward to going back to Cardiff and how I cannot wait for the fresh start. This part isn’t lying either, there is a part of me (quite a big part of me) that is exploding with enthusiasm. I cannot wait to unpack and decorate my new student room, to go out in the city with friends I haven’t seen in ages, to experience my first university house parties (now everyone has moved into second year houses all over Cardiff), to get a job, even to sit surrounded by books in the library studying a brand new and hopefully interesting topic.

    And I may be sad summer is over, but I was admittedly a little excited when I had to pull a scarf out of my wardrobe to wear yesterday and even when I left the house with an umbrella.

    How one Bronwen can feel so scared and so excited all at one time baffles me.

  • The start of a new journey

    I went and bought a beautiful new mirror for my university room today. I also bought a lovely new diary. It’s cream and pink with flowers on the front, but not in a way that’s too little girly (I don’t think).

    When I got home, I took a look at my enrolment emails from Cardiff University and made a note of the key dates, pencilling in essential information where needed.

    My anxiety seemed to be at bay and so, I even sat and worked out exactly how much money I’m going to have to spend each month and started googling retail jobs, hoping to find someone in Cardiff who wants to hire a Bronwen for the year, but doesn’t mind letting her go home for Christmas and Easter.

    Then, another email arrived from the university’s School of Music.

    I started reading about auditions for operas and my options for choirs to join and it all suddenly felt too real and way too scary. Just like that, I felt like my anxious, fresher self was back to haunt me and the idea of finding myself, conquering life and living independently suddenly wasn’t as appealing as a positive Bron would have told you it was.

    And now, I have to confess, the thought of going back for my second year in two weeks is terrifying.

    During my first year as a student, I struggled with anxiety like I never have before. Nothing scares me more than going back to face all the nerves of being a student again, except perhaps the thought of auditioning for operas when I get there! Or the spider that my dad just had to come into my bedroom and save me from.

    So I’m not a spider fighter just yet, but I can conquer university this time, right? There is a braver Bronwen in here somewhere.