This morning, the washing machine overflowed.
Since moving out of campus residence and into a flat with my friend, I’ve encountered most of what I’d heard about from other students. I’ve dealt with raucous neighbours, wobbly internet connection, lousy half-arsed meals, water shortage, and units on the electricity metre fading so fast you’d think we owned a jumping castle. On the bright side, I told myself, we’ve never had a problem with the washing machine.
By the end of this week, our flat was a disaster. My roommate and I had pushed through a pile of deadlines, and our poor living quarters had suffered the consequences of this. When under pressure, we do not clean*. The monsters loved the mess; they gained courage, climbing in through the window, smashing a wine glass, stealing our food and spilling crumbs all over the floor.
By Sunday – that is, today – I decided to sort this place out. My roommate graciously swept and mopped the floor yesterday, and my plan was to do the dishes, clean my linen, shake out the rugs – just commit to some domestic orderliness and get shit done. Patting myself on the back for making an effort, I went to check on my sheets, only to find a sea of white foam on the floor, and more oozing out from the machine. Pathetic, really.
I’ve been in a terrible headspace this year weekend. Watching countless episodes of Bojack Horseman can’t be good for anyone’s mood, but there’s low mood and then there’s this. Let’s go back to the washing machine. Imagine you are a washing machine (yes). You want to carry out your functions – rinse, drain, quick wash, whatever – because these things keep you happy, and motivated. But some part of you is broken and in dire need of repairs, and you feel like you can’t tell anyone. Then, when they try to rely on you, everything falls apart. (This post is turning out to be more melodramatic than I anticipated.)
My condition isn’t unique. People experience it on varying levels, for a multitude of different reasons. Students around the globe are dealing with mental health problems, to a shocking extent. It’s something they never tell you about before you arrive at university – the anxiety, the isolation, all of that mucky stuff. I’ve recently begun taking antidepressants; maybe there’s no need to share that on a public blog, but there you go. This blog is about mental health, and it seeks to help those in similar predicaments, even if “helping” simply means being a kindred spirit, and I aim to speak more about these monsters in future.
The washing machine failed to complete its job today. There’s dirty water still sitting inside its tub (I’m too scared to use the “drain” setting in case it does the opposite), and my sheets are crinkled and soapy. But it can be fixed. I’ll call someone tomorrow.
*In hindsight, the stress might’ve lessened had we been working under cleaner conditions. But this is how it goes sometimes.
[Header image: source]