After spending half of last year guzzling gin and cranberry juice at an excessive rate a few times a week and getting so wrecked I couldn’t see on the regular, this year comes as a shock to me. Since moving back to Manchester I can count the times I’ve been out and drunk on one hand. The idea of a night out, my once favourite pass time, simply doesn’t appeal to me anymore. I think I have lost my party girl persona.
Last year I was in my first year of University at BIMM Manchester and I was living in private halls. I’d made some – what I thought were – friends in my accommodation, work and my university, however with most of these people, the only thing I had in common with them is that we loved going out. It was fun at the time, but when I look back now I can’t help but cringe.
In retrospect, I was filling a hole left by my ex-three year fling with alcohol, false friends and boys who would give me attention for a bit. I wasn’t acting like I was off the rails, I wasn’t highlighting the fact I was unhappy and nobody could tell I was throwing a year of my life down the drain… But I was. This span of self-destruction lasted six months.
I should also mention throughout September-Easter I was working somewhere I was completely and utterly distraught about. Some days were okay but most were catastrophic. My saving graces at this job were three girls I worked with, who were wonderful and kept me sane throughout my time there.
Therefore, I subjected myself to six months of going out three/four times a week – without fail at the weekends – working somewhere I wasn’t comfortable, attempting a university course, messing my heart about with boys and constantly yo-yoing with my weight, which cocktailed together, led me to be a seriously miserable bunny. By Easter I was burnt out.
I went home for the holidays and, cliché as it is, fell in love. I worked for a bit at my old job as a kitchen assistant, came back to Manchester rejuvenated with a fresh outlook on life and concentrated on getting my university work done and building up a relationship with my now-boyfriend. I managed to cut all of the toxic people out of my life with really no trouble at all and although I sometimes miss the fun, I do not miss the people.
This university year is already a lot different to last years. For starters, I am on a course I am seriously already benefiting from at the University of Salford, I’m living with my friend from home in a beautiful little flat in Castlefield and I have a brilliant job at the most friendliest little eatery in Northern Quarter. I and my boyfriend are in a fantastic place, and my very best friends in Manchester are the only people I am bothered about spending time with right now.
Although I’ve lost my desire and thirst for the party atmosphere, I’ve gained a lot of experiences, life skills and the knowledge of what I want and what I need from this year. I don’t need to cane five red stripes in an hour to have a ball, gimmie some cultured euphoria instead. You can take the girl out of the party but that doesn’t mean there’s no party left in the girl.
Disclaimer: In no way am I saying that being the life and soul of the party is a bad thing. It’s a brilliant way of life filled with extreme highs and a couple hangovers and I made some of my best memories last year. Just because it isn’t my thing doesn’t mean it isn’t yours. Sesh on x