I wasn’t so much of a Snapchat user. Okay, scratch that! I was sending the occasional WTF selfie to my friends but even when they introduced Stories, I still wasn’t really in love with the app. However, all of this was before I started this sinful and shameless lifestyle they call Unilife. Now, I won’t spill the tea but let’s say that a few walks of shame and countless mornings with no memories from the night before made me appreciate Snapchat Stories. It was like a spell, I became like a white girl wasted in the club with my phone up in the air, filming everything. The only advantage was that, at least, I could live the night again and put the drunk fragments of parties together.

All of this was fun, until one question was asked. The same, over and over: “Do you even have time to study?”. At first I didn’t give more than a playful answer, saying that you can retake a test but you can’t relive a party, constantly avoiding giving a proper reason. Not that I didn’t want to, but I simply couldn’t. Until now, after having heard those same words, pronounced by people I barely knew from my exchange, I must come to the fact that this question, which has become quite dreadful, need a definitive answer.

I’m so dramatic, they could cast me on Downton Abbey.

Still, I needed closure. Why was I going out almost every single night of the week? This is the foundation of the fuckery that is this article and surprisingly enough, the answer to this one was quite simple. I couldn’t and I still can’t say no. A simple two letter word that was unable to come out of my mouth. You could say I’m a weak ass bitch, I won’t blame you. My parents were saying that I was just one of those “party animals” or “ravers”, if anyone still uses those words, but I knew it wasn’t that. I liked partying hard as much I liked a chill night with few friends, so it wasn’t me loving going out that was the problem. I searched for a long time and it might be unsettling but for once these Millennials served a purpose. You see, they’re a real pain in the ass and act like Kylie Jenner even though they’re thirteen but the great thing is their generation has a word for everything. Trust me, google “phubbing” and you’ll get what I mean. Or not, then tough luck morons.

Anyways, they didn’t invent the concept but those 2000’s brats made it widely popular, plus they saved me a hypothetical trip to the shrink which is way too expensive for an old guy on a couch telling you it’s your mom’s fault. In the end, I came to the conclusion that I’m just a bloke with a severe case of FOMO. Yes, I agree it’s as pathetic as it can get. I’m always out because I have this fucked up idea that if I don’t I’ll be missing out on what could potentially be an unforgettable night. However, it never turned out to be. Not one night, when I’d boldly decide to trade hours of sleep for Gin&Tonics, did I wake up the next morning feeling like that was a night to remember. Although exceptions may occur.

I’m getting a tad too egocentric but it’s my blog so fuck the haters grab some popcorn because it’s about to be more emotional than getting free guacamole at Chipotle. I’m known amongst my friend as the one that would always be up for anything at anytime and organise activities, inviting anyone willing to join. However, I started realising that many times, I wouldn’t get invited to some events. I would see the photos or hear about it some days later and be left wondering why I wasn’t there. Now don’t get me wrong, if it was because people didn’t want me there I would totally understand. Not everyone can handle all this awesomeness. Anyhow, when I’d jokingly ask about it, I’d be served the answer of “It was a last minute thing” or “I forgot to call you”.

Well, I got one question then : Am I that forgettable ? You say I’m funny, I’m cool to hang out with but I don’t see no incoming calls, I don’t get no texts. Stop. I don’t blame anyone, I’m overthinking this. I don’t act but damn ! I’m a good drama queen and yes, I’m being self-congratulatory. Sue me ! 

Nevertheless, this led my fucked up brain to think that going out was the kind of approval I needed, the only way to feel wanted. When God was distributing reasoning he must have had finished his stash before making me because all of this FOMO nonsense doesn’t make any fucking sense to me. In the end, I’m working on it. I know this state of mind I’ve locked myself into is just going to affect my already fucked up sleep schedule and my studies. I’m trying to see what’s positive in this wild mess, like the fact that it made me way more independent. If I had to wait on people to call me to go somewhere, I wouldn’t move out of my damn room. Sad reality but it’s my reality. So I do things on my own now, I do things alone. It sounds frightening at first but it has helped me improve myself on a physical, emotional and spiritual level. Yes, I did just pull some Eat Pray Love crap on y’all. To this day, I’m still living by this principle and it’s doing me wonders, better than a Weight Watchers diet.

In conclusion, I still have a major FOMO problem but I’m working it out, being my goofie self by seeing the positive aspects. Thanks to this, I met people I’d never thought I’d meet, I’ve done things I didn’t know I’d be doing and I’ve learn stuff about myself. Would it be cliché to say that I managed to transform a weakness into a strength ? Sounds like a real Disney story to me. We’ll see where this is going. Until next time, keep thriving, you bastards.