Drinking wine and listening to Eminem. Am I REALLY a masters student?

Today was my first day at uni. I turned up at 10 for a talk from the director or whatever they call him. He was nice and sweet but it was a bit dull. I knew most of it from my obsessive reading of the SOAS website. Well, I wanted to be informed, didn't I? Beforehand, I said hello to the girl sitting next to me. Throughout the entire talk I scanned the room thinking "maybe one of these people will become my friend?" before thinking "no, of course they won't, you ignoramous, and by the way, what the hell are you doing here?" At the end, someone shouted my name... Oh my fucking lord it's only F, who I went out with for about 2 months at the age of 16. I was misguided. Oh my lord. No no no. Etc. Then I saw this girl who I sat next to in English and German for 2 years in sixth form! Which is far acer cos she's so lovely. We talked for ages. It was kinda surreal as I think she had a very different impression of me than the real me. For example, we were talking about college, and I said how miserable I was, and she said that I always seemed okay... then later (unconnected to the previous conversation) she said that she was bad at acting and that I seemed better at it (something to do with me going into uni for my undergrad in my pyjamas). And it just made me think, what the fuck? I seemed fine then, I seem fine now. But am I really? I admit I'm only writing this now as I've had a bottle of wine. But am I fine? I don't know. Ask me when I'm sober and I'm like "yeah yeah yeah I'm great". But inside I'm so scared and I don't know what the fuck is going on. I spend far more time worrying than I should. I do all the things that I like to think that I don't do. I don't know whether I'm irrational. I don't think I'm going to make friends this year and I like to pretend that it's okay because I already have friends. I already have friends, right? I just don't know anymore. I feel very alone. Oh whinge whinge whinge. I think I am far more messed up than I like to think and seeing as part of the agreement of me staying in London this year was that I have therapy blah blah, so I guess I should. Thing is, I hate people who talk like they've had therapy. I have some prime examples to give but I can't because it was told to me in confidence. Then again, people who should have had therapy who haven't (again, I have a very good example), talk out of their arse and fuck everyone around on a long-term mission statement of slowly ruining their own life, so which would I prefer?

Anyway. I met some nice people. We went to ULU and had a pint. When we all went our seperate ways I walked about 200m down the road and had a panic attack and had to hide in the Waterstones. I then wandered aimlessly for a while and bought a new jacket. I got the bus home but half way home I got off and got the bus back into town and got all my hair cut off.

Now I am pissed and feeling less alone, though wine is not your friend, I should know this.