The Rollercoaster

Looking back now I'm sure that at some point in the last few years I caught the wrong ride. I've always been an enthusiastic, fit a thousand things in a night, kinda girl. It was part of my charm. I worked hard - played hard. Simple. That was my sixth form, the pre Sheffield years. During my A-Levels, being fond of the occasional(?) Shandy, I invented my own potent cocktail:

Pour 2 parts revision, 1 part clubbing. Stir in a generous amount of Newky Brown soaked Metal. Shake. Pour over ice. Garnish with a splash of stress, bright red hair dye and one of those cute miniature umbrellas (blue). For best results consume within 1 day of opening. Do not pass GO and do not collect £200. WARNING! Not suitable for children as contains small parts.

Two 'A's and 'B's later; it seemed to work quite well. Quite addictive, though

Enter stage left - The University of Sheffield

The cocktail continued, though the mix was modified to suit the ambience of university life (well - that's how I justified it). Now, with a bigger playground at my feet, the recreational content grew exponentially. Not being omnipotent, it only stands to reason that the study aspect began to shrink into a tiny little conscience that came to the fore on the eve of my essay deadlines. The grades were still good (how?). I had more friends than ever and enjoyed every moment. Too good to be true? It was. Somewhere hidden at it's heart lay the psyche equivalent of a 'Black Hole', drawing me in. I know this sounds lame, but I really didn't see it coming.

It was exciting at first. The lows fed the highs - keeping the lows to myself, and the highs on show for everyone to see (and experience). By the time someone, somewhere, turned up the speed I was already hooked. The lows grew deeper and the highs, less compelling. My veneer began to crack and stability became a distant dream.

Two years later I was stuck. I couldn't see past the path laid out for me. Trapped, pushing everything away from me, I rode the 'coaster- though I never knew it. With each circuit the track became more convoluted, taking me further and further into its web. As each thought went round I dug myself deeper into the psychosis that I was to reside in. The fantastic could be believed if you followed this path, eliminating all reasonable reason. I was taken into a world where fiction became fact - fact became fiction. A fairytale? (I wish). A self-destruct trip.

Why not stop - pull the emergency cord?

If you don't know, you've never been there.

Rachel Waddingham © 2002