August is coming to a close. Many people are already back at school but I've still got a couple of weeks to frantically finish my summer reading and see as many London friends as possible. Some of you may be aware that I haven't had a particularly amazing summer - a couple of lovely holidays broke up long periods where panic attacks seemed to overwhelm me. I'm not sure what will happen when I return to university, but hopefully if I keep taking my medication and sort out a counsellor as soon as possible I'll be okay.

It's weird how I manage to get on with things at university. Granted this time last year I wasn't constantly terrified of vomiting and gripped with panic every other day, but once you've shed some tears and bonded a little with the strangers you've been shoved into a flat with, university is really quite manageable. That is first year though. All year you hear 'but this doesn't count towards your final grade.' A lot of people disregard this and work really hard. A lot of people do nothing and scrape by. Or don't. Most people fall in the middle - get the work done, but it's completed five hours before the deadline and you've written most of it in an over-caffeinated sleep-deprived stupor. I think I cried every other essay I wrote.

I've decided this year to be a little more organised (I do say this a lot. We'll see) to take care of Future Me. Self care definitely involves taking breaks, but it also means considering what your actions now mean later. For example, if I don't head to the library and do some secondary reading as soon as I get my essay questions (aka before I start writing it) I'll spend an entire weekend flicking desperately between JStor and Microsoft Word. JStor is such an excellent resource, obviously, but getting into the habit of using the library and looking up books and taking notes is essential. Another example - if I don't plan my essay before I write it I'm guaranteed to get feedback telling me it needs more structure.

Exams are also very difficult for me and I never do as well in them as I do in my coursework. Ever. I nearly failed my drama exam in May. I need to ensure my coursework has enough marks so that my final grade isn't too dented from my inevitable exam issues. Furthermore, I need to ensure my Future Self has the revision materials she needs. Enter Stationery. I thought I might share my favourite materials for getting through classes (lectures, seminars, tutorials, whatever you have) and then exams (highlighters and lots of paper).

In the picture above you can't see my main item. It's hidden under my 'Note to Self' pad (courtesy of my oboe teacher), which is very helpful for to-do lists/shopping lists/reading lists. I LOVE sectioned notebooks. They are so great. I think I also like notebooks more than paper and folders at the moment, because I can't figure out how to turn pages in a pad of paper and the pages always end up folded and crumpled in my bag. Can't explain how much I hate crumpled pages inside a folder. Notebooks keep everything together, and sections mean I can keep all my notes for my different modules together. Today I bought a 4 section notebook from Paperchase (£7.25 I think). I buy one per semester - one section per module (three) and the final one for notes I take from secondary reading. Done. Easy peasy. For exam revision I write up all my notes on sheets of paper (and highlight like crazy) and keep them in a folder and then transfer that to more condensed notes, flashcards or practise essay plans.

My second thing is biros. So easy and no smudging and comfy. I use Pilot ones with the cushiony bit where your finger rests. The ones I bought today were a lot more expensive than I was expecting (£2.50 each...) but I'm hoping they'll be worth it.

My dear grandad passed away on Easter Saturday of this year. It's been exactly four months since I received a call from a man working in the Yorkshire Ambulance Service telling me that my grandad had been found 'deceased in the house'. I am still angry and confused about the way this man told me that my grandad had passed away. He did tell me his name at the beginning of the call but I have completely forgotten it. I don't know if I would ever make a complaint, but the fact that he couldn't find a better way to pass on the news and then told me I 'sounded young' - I wonder who he is. I wonder if he's ever had to lose a family member.

My grandad was the last of my grandparents to pass away. My grandma (his wife) died of cancer when I was eight and my mum's parents died within a year of each other when I was twelve. I was too young to really grasp loss and really know or love my grandparents. This time I am struggling.

I think what's made this worse is the shock of my grandad's death. He had so many ailments that it was hard to believe that one of them could really end his life. In fact, the mass in his stomach that burst and caused his heart to give out was a very recent problem on the end of a long, long list. He seemed invincible, though frail - he had thrombosis that cost him his lower left leg, diabetes for years, high cholesterol, digestive problems. He never drank water and he ate two big meals a day. His short term memory had begun to disintegrate after two small strokes a couple of years ago - this was our main concern as he couldn't remember if he'd taken his medication or done his insulin injection and he was constantly confused. I think we all knew that these signs didn't indicate a very long life ahead of him, but I expected him to at least see me graduate from university. Obviously this didn't happen. His death was sudden and out of the blue. I also suspect that I would have had an easier time with the news if I'd heard it from my parents rather than a cold stranger.

How do you know when you've accepted a loss? How can you tell if you're still 'processing', grieving, whatever it is? I'm still sad about my grandad's death. I still cry occasionally. But I've been suffering some derealisation as a result of my panic attacks, which makes me even more prone to expecting my grandad to wheel himself into the room every time we go up to his house. It's not real yet. I'm worried it never will be.

I suppose you take each day one at a time. Keep busy. We've started sorting out his house - all of his clothes are gone (divided between family and a local hospice) and we cleared the attic and one bedroom. It's very weird emptying a wardrobe that belongs to someone who died. I can't quite describe what it is that makes me so uncomfortable about touching a dead person's (clean, ready to be worn) clothes. Something lingers, maybe. Perhaps it's the reality that this person no longer needs them.

I was also thinking about how we often describe the dead as in another place. It is incomprehensible that someone can just stop existing. That consciousness ends. Where do we go when we die? Maybe we go to a great kingdom in the clouds with an entity that calls itself God. Maybe there is another journey we take as ourselves. Maybe we wake up as a larva or a baby bird. Or, we stay in the same place. With our loved ones.

I doubt my grandad could have read this even when he was alive, but I miss you and I love you. Always and forever.

Catherine
xx

Cornwall has always had a special place in my heart. I've been going there with my family ever since I was a very tiny baby - there are pictures of me lying on a picnic blanket absolutely screaming because I got sand in my eyes. For years we went to Padstow; my great uncle's family had owned two flats there for many generations and I spent many summers in the flat above the estate agents and next to the fudge shop. However, Padstow has become a very popular holiday destination over the last couple of decades, which makes actually going there pretty awful, mostly for my parents. Parking is impossible, it's too busy to do anything and (what a first world problem) there's little in the way of internet connection or TV coverage.

I wasn't sure if my blog was the best place for a discussion like this (more anxiety related that what I was intending) but it's 10:50pm at night and my family are in the next room - not quite ideal video set up. So blog it is.

That tight band of pressure around your head is a familiar enemy to me - tension headaches often plague me, sometimes sticking around for a few weeks before finally dissipating for a while. Though they can be easily treated and I have various remedies and methods that make them manageable (4head, anyone?), daily headaches are extremely worrying for someone who is as anxious as I am.