Having emerged from the cocoon of the children's home, I am feeling somewhat shell-shocked and alienated by everyday reality. Last year, I wrote in this column about my life at the Maumbury House children's home in Dorchester, Dorset. Now life is quite different.

Within the space of a few weeks my sense of belonging and my sense of identity have diminished almost to nothing. My differing brands of neurosis still manifest themselves from time to time and my view of my own capabilities, self-image, self-esteem and overall sense of individuality have become a complete haze.

I am in the process of making decisions about my future. Specifically, I have an opportunity to attend university this September. Although the concept of university evokes thoughts of parties, friendship and ever-changing experiences, it also evokes thoughts of loneliness, debt and consequent failure.

Identifying the advantages and disadvantages has been, and continues to be, physically and emotionally draining. Part of me refuses to become engaged in the world of academia, competition and conforming to classroom rules. Yet another part of me yearns for excitement and the chance to broaden my knowledge and awareness.

My quest for freedom and happiness is like being on an emotional pendulum full of moments of laughter and, yet, despair. Embarking upon a journey of self-discovery at this time of ambiguity has taught me a great deal about my own needs, wishes and aspirations. I have become aware of my predisposition to wallow and latch on to childhood memories in an attempt to escape the transition to adulthood.

I have learned that my inability to accept change often leads me to dismissing every opportunity that passes my way. I have a self-destruct button that I press in times of uncertainty and in times of pressure. I avoid commitment and challenge as if they are the plague, and the reasons for this remain a mystery. I am an enigma to myself.

A number of paradoxes have come to light since I left care. I have become aware that the things that inject me with a sense of warmth and comfort are actually the things that prevent me moving on. I have become aware that freedom and friendship are the most fundamental treasures for a person to possess. These treasures far outweigh all the other elements by which we become consumed later in life.

My eating disorder has reached the centre stage of my life once again, clouding my judgement and preventing me from thinking positively. Realising the severity of the bulimia and anxiety has been a poignant experience that I have found frightening. The eating disorder is helping me conceal the pain that I feel. I know that laxative abuse and starvation are not the solution, but my difficulty in deciding my future is making me feel as if I am sailing towards an unknown destination. I find strength in these words from an Irish poet: "May the road rise up to meet you."

Heidi Osborne is a care leaver