London is hard

I feel pretty emotionally drained these past couple of days. I can't really put my finger on why to be honest, just everything seems to be setting me off.

 

London is hard. And so are my hormones. 

 

It is a tough city to 'be' in. It is noisy, gloomy, dirty, aggressive, fast-paced and still always running late. I know I should relish working here, but I do not. It is wearing me down, one breath of air I breath at a time - I fear under a microscope that my lungs look as black as if I'd smoked daily for the past 15 years of my life, simply by walking up and down the streets.

A couple of nights ago it just poured out of me, tears of pure 'I feel sorry for myself' - it was pathetic and embarrassing. I wish Chris hadn't had witnessed any of it, eventhough he was kind and supportive. I hope it'll give me that final push that I need to sort this all out. I hate the way my mind works just before that flaming time of the month comes around. I'm irritable, irrational and insufferable to be with. I drive myself up the wall.

But, as with any other day, I've just got to push through it and hope for the best.

 

I've signed up to the gym once again for me to thrust myself into and hopefully get rid of all this pent up frustration at myself. Just need to make it habit now, and perhaps in three months time I'll be grateful for this decision.