1066 All Stars

With my confidence issues already well ingrained, a lazy summer of 1996 soon gave way to Autumn and attention turned towards University. Truly this would be a life altering experience during an impressionable time in my life, although not quite in the way I expected…

University Challenged

I never expected to go to Uni. During the latter part of the 6th form, the teachers began discussing it with us; where would we go, what would we study? It all seemed foreign to me.

We had a class trip to a University fare, a chance to go round various stalls to find out more about the universities on display, ask questions and get some idea of where we wanted to go. We attended a speech (I sat at the back, natch) where some over excitable chap extolled the virtues of university life, encouraging us to move as far away from home as possible.

I laughed it all off. University? Me? Coming home, I hid the prospectuses in my wardrobe. I was embarrassed to show my parents for some reason and so I tucked them away out of sight, like an upmarket, rather dry top shelf magazine.

Eventually it began to dawn on me that this was a reality. I might actually go to Uni. And so I discussed it with my parents. ‘University?’ came the reply. ‘I thought that was for clever people?’

I didn’t have a clue what to study. I liked English, I had always been a keen writer. I quite enjoyed History too, although I suspect that was more because I respected the teacher than anything else. It didn’t seem to matter to me either way. I wasn’t taking any of it seriously, I didn’t have a clue what my future career might be. I was more concerned with where we were going on Friday night.

Reluctantly, begrudgingly, I completed the application. Eschewing the advice of the earlier speaker, I applied to the campuses most local to home so that I could pop back at a moments notice. It would almost be as if I hadn’t gone away at all. This was actually going to happen. Gulp.

But there was one saving grace. They would only accept me if I achieved specific grades and, what do you know, I hadn’t. My buddy and I celebrated like Christmas had come early when we got our results. We had got crap grades, this was great!

Except the Uni accepted us anyway and so it was off to Kingston.

I had a pleasant enough first day with the family. Mum bought me a Star Trek mug with a Klingon Bird of Prey on it. I still own it, it is my favourite mug. Eventually they had to go. Mum cried, one of the few times I can remember her doing so at that point in my life, blubbing from behind a sodden hankie, ‘He didn’t want to come in the first place.’ After they left, I shed a tear too.

Luckily I had come with my best mate and so the experience was shared. Plans to pop home again the next weekend were soon shelved as I settled into Uni life. Maybe I could make a go of this after all.

Things soon changed. Not ready to embrace my new environment, I failed to spend any time with my housemates, instead spending most of my time at my mate’s. My friends therefore became his friends and I felt lonely in my own flat. But other more serious issues began to emerge.

The doubts over my physical appearance and attractiveness to the opposite sex came to the fore. I had no experience of speaking with girls, even in a capacity as friends. We had mixed classes in sixth form but I largely stuck to my own, speaking to girls was too embarrassing. But there was a problem; my mate had got himself a girlfriend. And so here I was, tagging around like a lost puppy, the dutiful best friend there for comic relief and a ‘you’re so cute.’ But I didn’t want to be cute, I wanted to be attractive.

Not understanding my feelings, I misdirected them, surreptitiously coveting my mate’s girlfriend and become jealous at the lack of affection returned. What was wrong with me? Why was he better? I became hyper sensitive, liable to react to the merest slight, misconstruing and misinterpreting events and innocuous comments as hurtful.

Evenings at the student bar became an exercise in futility. I wanted female attention but was too frightened to pursue it in case I was rejected. I remember vividly a girl sitting next to me one night. My buddy offered a nudge of motivation as she cosied up to me but I shunned her. I assumed it was a set up, some joke being played. Why on earth would she be interested in me?

The theme continued into the second year. Now living with my friend and his girlfriend (amongst others), my feelings of jealousy and isolation grew more intense. Night’s out would regularly end with me shutting down, sitting sullenly in the corner, not speaking to anyone. Eventually I would leave, feeling completely abandoned, more than once finding a quiet spot to let the tears come without an audience. It would be a scene oft repeated.

I felt broken, completely, utterly and thoroughly miserable. And of course the others didn’t understand. How could they when I didn’t understand myself. The sadder I felt the more I drank. The more I drank the sadder I felt.

I graduated from university in 1999. My 2:2 in History reflects a sense of underachievement. I was more than capable of getting a 2:1 but didn’t apply myself, too happy to play the fool. The pattern repeated.

But away from the academics, there were larger lessons to be drawn. For many, University is a defining life experience where they discover themselves. I emerged miserable and defeated and more importantly to me, still single. You would hear stories of the lads who had rampaged through uni bedding girls left, right and centre. I graduated at age 21 having kissed one solitary girl, a moment soon dismissed.

Of course I understand now that this was my first experience with depression. At the time, I thought I was just miserable. Looking back, I see the thinking errors, combined with the heady mix of hormones, immaturity and environmental changes. I was a little boy lost.

So it was that I emerged into the big wide world. I moved in with some new people, friends of a friend, and finally started to build some confidence again. The ladies remained largely elusive but I began to develop a sense of who I was. I had fun and my relationships with those around me improved as a result.

Of all the things I regret in life, my time at Uni is undoubtedly the biggest. It is the biggest single influence on my life to come, both a conflation of issues to that point as well as a melting pot of new anxieties and self taught deficiencies. Here was where I defined myself as inferior, incompetent, unattractive, unlovable. Here I peered into the abyss and heard the Black Dog barking. And here I entered a tunnel of darkness from which I have yet to truly emerge.

Still To Come

A rather longer post than planned so next time we’ll start life in the office and meet a girl.