Hannah is a down to earth, pedigree Mancunian who is currently away from her French and European Politics degree at Leeds on an Erasmus placement at the Université Paul-Valéry in Montpellier. Hannah probably should say that she takes a keen interest in current affairs but in fact she would usually rather stay in bed with a brew, go shopping for floral dresses, or watch Strictly Come Dancing. She will be using this blog to talk mainly about subjects such as feminism, mental illness, and cats. Hannah would love to one day work for a non-governmental organisation, to try and help the world become a slightly lovelier place.
Bonjour mes petites fleurs,
I hope that you all had a suitably overindulgent Christmas and New Year’s Eve, and have settled back into university and work in a way that isn’t too traumatic. A lot has happened in the past two months, so I guess I’ll just pick up where I left off…
After my birthday at the beginning of December, I had a surprise visit from the Buenos Aires babe, David Robinson, fellow Mancunian and Gryphon blogger. I should also state that myself and David have been friends for years. As soon as he arrived he waltzed straight into my arms, we immediately cracked open the wine, then devoured my birthday cake. It was like we had never been apart, and I was excited to paint the town rouge and all the other colours of the rainbow with my beautiful friend. One litre of mojito and a gay bar lock-in later we went to local indie hotspot Rockstore.
From the top floor we heard the faint wails of ABBA and couldn’t resist performing our repertoire of diva dance moves. Mid-twirl we heard a crunch. The blood-curdling noise came from my hand. We looked at each other, horrified, and discussed our plan of action. Insisting that delightful David experienced the best of his debut in Montpellier I was convinced we should get another drink and continue dancing. David soon noticed that my hand was the size of a watermelon and I was unable to move my fingers, so we decided that perhaps it was time we took a trip to A & E. After what seemed like a lifetime, I emerged at 8am with my hand encased in quite an inelegant plaster cast. Despite this incident on the first night of his stay, David and myself had a delightful five days together and he got to experience how well Montpellier does Christmas (very well).
Being in England for Christmas was a nice change, especially as I spent the majority of my time in the West Country. I really enjoyed being back in English supermarkets and I indulged in all sorts of Yuletide delights. Obviously I had to have help cutting up my food and opening my presents, but I actually managed quite well with my claw.
But before long I was stuck in a purgatory itching to return to Montpellier. I say purgatory because I felt like I was neither here nor there. The claw had meant I had to have weekly hospital appointments and I was not able to sit my exams for semester 1, which may have been a blessing in disguise considering my sketchy attendance and academic commitment during my somewhat tumultuous first semester.
Maybe I’m being harsh on myself, I did achieve a lot last year. Considering it was touch and go whether I was even well enough to go on my year abroad, I’m very proud that I’ve managed to do as much as I have. I’ve come to a foreign country, with foreign norms and social conduct, speaking an exotic language and I’ve survived. I’ve even made some lifelong friends along the way as well as some remarkable breakthroughs with my therapist. So I may not have been academically successful by the end of 2014, but the ‘real life stuff’ that I achieved shouldn’t be dismissed either. In short, go me!
Perhaps the influx of Facebook statuses that occurred on the 31st December had an effect on me. There are only so many times one can read: “New year new me new start… Out with the old and in with the new… Wiping the slate clean and turning over a new leaf… 2015 is gonna be my year,” without feeling pressured to take on the same mantra. I therefore returned to Montpellier with some extra oomph, and I don’t quite know what happened. Maybe all the stars and planets had aligned, maybe my medication finally kicked in, maybe my therapy had paid off, perhaps I was determined not to fail my year abroad, or I was determined not to be beaten by my mental illness, or maybe even all of the above. But for the first time in what felt like a lifetime I was not only not sad, but I felt SO happy.
I made some simple yet effective New Year’s resolutions which included meditation, hypnosis, maintaining daily hygiene, eating three meals a day, getting 8 hours sleep a night and going to university. Most of these seem like pretty basic means of survival, but when you’re a depressed zombie these seem like outrageous and impossible demands that you simply don’t have the energy to attempt, especially when you’re a hyperanxious agoraphobic drained from always expecting the worst case scenario.
I stuck a middle finger up to mental illness and attended lessons at uni. At first it was terrifying but it gradually got better, and the support of my housemates, friends and family kept me motivated. I come out of my classes skipping on rainbows, simply so overjoyed that I’m climbing my Everest. My classes are interesting and I really enjoy them, especially the language acquisition lecture where we watch videos of cute babies trying to speak for an hour and a half. I do have one qualm though. It seems to be the norm for French students to sit and chat/play on their phones/watch Malcolm in the Middle during lectures. This is bizarre, if this was done at Leeds surely the lecturer would kick off big style but here they don’t seem to care.
Confession time: I’m actually writing this blog entry from the back of a co-voiturage on my way to Italy. The first three weeks of uni are done and it is half term, so I’m off to visit my beau in Genova. For our week off we plan to travel to Bologna, Verona and Venice, so I’ll have plenty of material for my next blog entry that will make you all jealous (you’re welcome).
Must dash, the southern French fashion of driving is making me fear for my life and my iPad is flying around everywhere.
Bisous,
Hannah Lewis
Images courtesy of Hannah Lewis