**WARNING: CONTAINS BITTERNESS**
The rumours are true.
The Great Graduate Depression has ascended and I have fallen victim.
16th of September, 2015 marked the three year anniversary since the day I officially moved away from little Solva to the big wide world of Gloucestershire (Cheltenham to be exact). Three years and now it is all over.
I HAVE FINISHED UNIVERSITY.
Lately all forms of social media are littered with news about Fresher’s week, with fresh faced students posting statuses about their new flats/friends and how great their induction day was; I am avoiding Facebook until this dreaded week is all over…
I can almost hear the cries of grieving graduates all over the country as each one refreshes their news feed to see their old life flaunted right in front of them.
No longer am I filled with excitement about the prospects of the future, but a deep bitterness of days gone by; I spend my evenings lying in bed eating wotsits while watching a slide show of my life as a fresher and wishing for the chance to return to my old flat, and experience the ecstasy of nerves and freedom of September 16th, 2012 all over again.
The Great Graduate Depression.
It really is real.