I am 37 years old/young.
My grey matter has been atrophying through the years; sometimes at great speed, swept along on a torrent of chemicals both licit and illicit.
Recent years have embraced the calm of sobriety and a growing desire to retrain the decaying muscles of the mind.
A tentative start was made in 2006. The tiniest dip of a toe. Determined to fill the cravings for substances with something more substantial, words rushed in to fill the cavernous abyss. Who would have ever thought that writing academic papers could provide a greater high than drugs?
Surprisingly, the powers-that-be in their ivory towers of academia nodded their heads sagely in agreement. I was in.
For four years I have devoted every spare moment, and some that should by rights have been devoted to other things (like food, exercise, friendships and sleep) to maintaining an implausible grade average from my loungeroom. Philosophy is a strange world to study in isolation but somehow pyjamas seemed to suit the subject matter. For a while at least...
Which brings me to...now.
I have plunged from the cliff of the known. Of comfort, stability, routine. I am hurtling towards the new, the unknown, the scary - from the tranquility of 5 acres of rainforest to the chaos of a campus to which 50,000 people head on a daily basis.
This is my journey as I begin full-time on-campus studies to (finally) complete my Bachelor of Arts degree.