Wednesday, December 30, 2009

redemption day

The past few days have not been eventful. I spent the days since boxing day mainly masticating and watching television with some additional mastabatory procrastination. I purged yesterday and today. Mainly from too much christmas indulgence.

Today I managed to 'finish' my dissertation proposal to send off to the potential supervisor. He suggested some more revisions, however. on the plus side, I have about 3 days to complete the revisions and a little bit of praise. The supervisor says that my revised proposal is a lot better than what I previously sent. I am going to send off a set of proposals in addition to this one I am attempting to complete. It is good that I have a potential supervisor who is willing to give advice. Now, only my poor grades are against me in the application. Not so great but better than my situation previously.

I am considering to invite more referees to contribute for a reference letter. Tomorrow is new years eve, and I'm off to a thing wearing a tuxedo. I have felt a lot of sloth lately and it is only this morning that I gave myself a good kick to get motivated and active. A song by judas priest helped me get out of bed called "Turbo lover". It just has a funny association to me.

I look at my belly and see the signs of sloth. I am also thinking about the next girlfriend, whoever she may be. I think I need to expand my social life a bit more. This may sound eerie considering the posts that I was thinking about writing during my slothful period over the past five days; but I'm feeling bright and optimistic. Or rather, busy.

I have to re-learn the coping mechanisms to cope with depression, namely:

1. Don't indulge in depressive thoughts
2. Get going, stupid, don't laze about
3. Masturbating can be addictive. Cum or stop, but stop taking so long
4. remind yourself of the achievements you have made in any given day
5. think about the future you are trying to realise and all of its components are in the now.

In other news, I think the antidepressants may be working. I think I might give a premature end to the day given that I have gotten to do the (probably) hardest task of the month.

Saturday, December 26, 2009

a fairly merry christmas

i apologise that i haven't been posting for a while. perhaps now is the worst time to type anything substantial as i'm off to see some more family. Anyhoo. Christmas has kept me busy while in previous days it has been through mere lack of effort. I have taken the antidepressants I have been prescribed and strangely enough, I have taken them pretty consistently. It makes a marked change in my behaviour and with the posssible exception of yesterday, I've not had any big triggerign experiences.

I'm off to run. Toodles.

Monday, December 21, 2009

The ideal woman (my mental fantasy)

The ideal woman ould have grown up in the 90s. That would make her either slightly or a bit older than me. Maybe when I was in my childhood, she was in her teens-early 20s. I'm attracted to older women. I fall absolutely gaga for strong women. I am attracted to caring, nurturing, and yet disciplinary women. I want to be a toy to the older woman. I want to be her lovely secret indulgence, her plaything, her prize. I want to be special for her, and I don't want to be inadequate. I want to have something in me that only I cuold give. I want her to prize me for my body, my lovemaking, my intellect, my creativity. I want her to be like a nurturing teacher whom has a soft spot for the prized pupil. I want to be her star pupil, her only pupil (ideally), and I want to be good for her.

I want her to sit on my face, I want her to give me instructions when I give her cunnilingus. I want her to say "I'm a lucky girl" and i want to indulge her sexual greed with my body and all I can give her. I want to have coffee with her in posh coffee houses and have her inform me on the nuances of architecture or victorian art, and I can tell her about Virgil and 17thC science. I want to live with her and we can have a room that has a whiteboard. In the room with the whiteboard; my study, she will teach me mathematics and physics, I can try to show off my knowledge of logic and proofs, and then she will rub out all the notation that I've written and say to me in a diminutive manner "you silly little boy that's wrong", and then correct me, I'll apologise like a pathetic little dog and she will pet me and say "don't worry, you are still a smart little boy". I want her to be superior to me so I can have something to aspire to and exceed, whether I will or will not does not matter, but I want her to challenge me and make me feel small.

Despite all of the aforementioned things, which will ultimately be superficial; she will be my partner, my lover, my friend, my comfort blanket.

I feel better now having just recited a fantasy just going on in my head. I think its these new antidepressants I'm on giving me these feelings, or listening to PJ Harvey

Saturday, December 19, 2009


is my current bank balance.

I raped my account at a concert that I had went to last week. I tried to give a kind gesture of loving gratitude, the short of it is that I raped my bank balance. Now it's a week to Christmas and I'm running out of time for presents. I knew Christmas was soon but looking at GCal made me realise its within seven days!

I'm signing in to the job centre on monday, that means the money may come in on the 24th, however, there are no guarantees as it's christmastime and I can understand if things are a little more lax during the holiday period. That means I can't use that £109 to spend for presents for my family. Consequently that means I have little to give to my family. I bought a fair number of presents in the past few weeks, in anticipation of this moment, but I have not properly allocated gifts to people. I'll need to think harder about it.

In other news, I have been purging, two days ago I had purged thrice, yesterday once.  Between thursday and friday I gained 1lb. That is a bit of a bummer and a signal that I'm not achieving anything by purging. I think its fair to say given the past week that I've started purging again. I think also that I am deceiving myself that I am actually getting stuff done. All of the activities that I've done this week are filler, in all fairness however, I've located a few job vacancies to apply to after the new year. They are graduate schemes though. I saw an events management job that relates specifically to my degree subject, the good thing is that it actually relats to my degree, the bad thing is that I know nothing about events management. I'll need to bullshit for that one.

I am slightly thinking about applying to more postgrad places, as the season is coming up. I am gonna apply for only funded places. I cant afford to even think about going on to self-funded courses now. Another thing to consider is that my life is moving on and I'm getting older and more desperate. I cant wait forever. I hate having to give up but...

Yesterday I looked at myself and I realised that I hate myself, because I failed to aspire to what I used to be, what I used to see as high intellectual and elite standards. I'm now job centre material, when before I was on the cusp of being a prestigious phd student under a respectable professor. There was a point when I had a flash of knowing that it was all going to fall apart, that was when I failed the MA essay.

I want to cry but I see no point. I want to scream but it will do no good. Purging is the only constructive that I have. My throat hurts at the moment and I haven't eaten so no point. I have a GP appointment later, I shall ask him kindly for help.

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Once bitten twice purged

Bulimia warps my thinking. On theplus side I think I got a fair amount done today. One of the tasks that I had been putting off for so long has now become invalidated. That's positive I guess, no task. It was just about to snow when I went out jogging. I spent about an hour, 3.5 mi and 5.5k of jogging. I also did some situps and chest presses. I quite liked excercising in the snow. I am not only not used to the snow, but its also cold and I am unknown to the risks; so I did a short session.

Being up since about 5am has given me a positive vibe, going out jogging has also helped boost my mood. It is for this reason that I want to purge later on, well, now. My mum is away, my dad's asleep and I got a few breakfast items that I wish to expound. I feel less and less resistance to purging. I do not think it is wrong and I don't like that people are so violently adamant that it is wrong. People say to me when I tell them, things like "don't do it", or "I don't care, just stop it now", "don't you dare!" was a recent one.

When people say things like that, how can I not purge? surely because they are understanding and sympathetic to my mindset and all the conflict and troubles that I have? I don't feel troubled right now, although I do want to give a secret two fingers to them; not only that I feel that it will make me slim again. In addition I dont have anything to lose except my food. My life isn't very valuable right now anyway. I think I'll go downstairs and I'll see how it goes; maybe I'll jsut eat a steak, watch star trek and cry.

ah, that was a good shit

The past couple of days have been quite hard. I think, however, that I have reacted to these feelings that I am having in a positive and constructive way. By that, I mean, I am not doing too many of the no-no's and perpetuating the negativity in my actions. I have been moving a bit forward with my schedule and am slowly clearing up a full timetable. I have been mostly been clearing up my GReader, but little things like that, and rituals such as brushing my teeth and shaving. I woke up early today. My first getting up was at 4am. I went straight back to sleep. I then woke up again and knew it was time that I had to stay up. It was 5:30 or thereabouts; I spent the time masturbating and the aforementioned Greader clearup.

I finally woke up around 6:45, shaved, brushed teeth and finished off a beef curry that my mum had made from a sirloin steak (boy that's posh!). My dad came home from his nightshift, we had a nice chat and then I got bak to look at my schedule. I think that I will do a set of mini reading tasks, do some downloading into my external HDD to clear up my GReader and then I may go for an early (or therabouts) jog. If the latter were to be the case I should be ready to jog by 10-11am.

Okay, posting over; back to the ranch as my teacher used to say

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

The upper hand

I am sitting in front of my desk with a plate of parsnips.I heated them for 40 seconds and not a minute because I felt so hurredluy angry that I could not bear to wait any longer standing in the kitchen with my mum behind me. It is quite cold. today I am wearing my fingerless gloves. They must be two years old now.

I was called by the people from 'psychological services', I don't know their real name because it is all fucking acronyms. They have asked to refer me to another acronym. I think it is reasonable for me to say that I do not have much control over my feelings right now. I do not like admitting this because I always want to be in control. Even over the little dukedom of my room or even if it were my desktop, I have certain ways of doing things and although they are revisable, I have the flaw of wanting it to be my control, my dukedom that I claim majesty over.

I think this is the reason why I react with anger. The guy called me from 'psyholoigical services' maybe an hour. I asked him that if I were to be assessed, I need to be assessed by someone who holds a doctorate. This sounded impulsive. I think from the perspective of a normal person, my behaviour seems odd, my behaviour appears 'mental' in the normal sense of the word. I am starting to be a crazy again, not the normal kind of person who is just depressed and pathetic, but a peron who is seen as visibly weird and deviant, a person that people will call colloqually although not without some terminological accuracy, a nutter, a psycho, a weirdo, a mentalloid and so forth.

My ex said she cant help me anymore because of our personal relationship compromises everything she could do to help. I purged again since the last post. That makes two. As I type this post I can't bear to look at the laptop screen. If you were a person, blog, I would not be making eye contact with you. As I chew on these parsnips I contemplate the idea of purging again.

If I said something outrageous I am afraid it won't happen, or that I have no genuine impact in order to realise it, but I'd say it, in the terms of Antonia, to channel my intentions and send out an intention to the universe so that the situation may manifest itself: what is outrageous that I want to say is this:

I want to get better
I am getting better
i will put this behind me
I am moving forward
I will move forward
I am improving, getting better as a person
I am not getting fatter but fitter
I am getting fitter
I am attractive
I am beautiful
I am wanted
 I am special

between the last line and this one, I paused from blogging to hide in my cupboard and cry. It was a contingency that I had considered in reorganising my room. I came out of my room after having a few thoughts, and then did some situps and quadricep excercises, my back feelsa little tender now. The inclination I have to go out to the pub to see that friend I mentioned in the past post has gone up a bit.

When I was hospitalised I got angry because I hated myself for submitting to them and getting 'institutionalised'. My anger stems fromfeeling so helpless. I don't like feeling helpless and so I react with threatening violence or pointing out logical fallacies and knowledge gaps (which, given my masters education, isn't hard to do on people). I compare it to the scene in star wars revenge of the sith. When Palpatine is found to be darth sidious and it seems like his plot was completely foiled and everyone knows his big secret; they push him into a corner where it seems he cannot escape and he reacts to it by getting his lightsaber hidden in his sleeve and murdering the jedi council members. I love how he had a weapon and a symbolic and literal trump card up his sleeve.

I get aggressive, apparently according to Antonia. I get aggressive by my own admission to the medical mental health staff. I find it painful, distressing, when they try to help. I strive for the upper hand, but there is an extent to which my violence and aggression fantasies are seeping into reality. I dont know who I am as a person anymore. I can't be an aggressive person because I am not an alpha male (so Antonia says of the latter).

I think that I have done a fair amount today. I have also said 'surmise' a lot in sentences, or in my thoughts. In addition, I find something disconcerting: Antonia sees me in a way that I don't agree it, almost like how my parents mischaracterise me. I fear that she no longer understands me. I am now alone again.

Today a few positives have happened. I have booked appointments, followed up the telephone interview, applied for a menial job, looked a few places for a job to apply to (I've not done the last two for a bit of a while). I fall into this 'upper hand' mentality because I'm afraid of appearing openly vulnerable and helpless.

I want to purge again today, I just need a chance...

nhs day

Today I got up about 9:30, out of bed and fully organised by 10:15, out of the house to the blood genre by 10:20, back home by 11:30

It's 1pm now.

I was rejected by the blood people to donate because I have an opthamologist appointment later this week. On the plus side, at least I have an opthamologist appointment later this week.

I called the local surgery for a GP appointment. I also called 'psychological services', the ones whom I had put the phone down on. They said they will call me back. Well the real story is that the first time I called today I was referred to someone through hold, and they asked me to recall the past telephone interview. I flipped, had a trigger and put the phone down.

I then thought about a conversation that I had with Antonia two nights ago. Antonia said to me, after I had opened up to her, even  opened up to my own self-deceit of a thinly veiled anger, that really covered jealousy that she has a new man that she has casual sex with, who lives in switzerland, owns 10 houses, 5 cars and is a holistic healer. I can't compete with that, I can't compete with the guy who had a caravan and advanced music technology in his van, DVDs, sound system and so forth. I CAN'T COMPETE WITH THOSE GUYS BECAUSE I HAVE NO JOB OR MONEY. I HAVE NO ASPIRATIONS AND NOTHING I DO HAS WORKED FOR ME FOR THE PAST 18 MONTHS. I AM A COMPLETE AND UTTER FAILURE AS A HUMAN BEING.

It is often said to be uncouth to type in caps. I type almost as if to communicate screaming. I purged today, my mum heard. I thought I wouldn't be heard. My nephew is in today. I called the psychological services back, I feel like I am down a few rungs in the ladder of confidence. I am crawling back to the mental health people after two hangups. I'm upset. Its nice to feel in control and to think that I have a plan. I dont have a plan, or better still, none of my plans have worked.

In other news, a girl, I mentioned her in previous posts; ugly not attractive, boring, trying to be a posh-o, naturalised chinese/british and whiney friend from university; keeps inviting me to things. She texted me twice, facebook messaged me twice, wall raped me with 'thanks for your cheeky message' (in relation to a reply i gave that she replied with a facebook message, making the wall post redundant and creepy). I ate some parsnips and a bit of pork fat that lay on the bone that I was masticating off over last night, there wasn't much pork on the bone yesterday either but I was just finishing the parent's sunday roast off. I think that I shall purge a second time today. I had 2x 200k chocolate lunchbox snacks. Naughty naughty. I need to purge them.

I feel like the fight to not purge is really redundant. Why boher fighting it. I can improve my life in other ways but that.

i didn't even write a post about the last weekend. Maybe I should, maybe I won't. I won't write about it in this post. Let it suffice to say that  lot could be written of all the feelings I went through that past weekend, and it was not good. I have perhaps to introduce a new character to this blog. Perhaps one that readers will think differently of me when I tell you about him.

Today I realised a feeling in me that makes me feel very vulnerable and weak. I'm scared. I'm jealous of Antonia and all those guys I can't compete with. They are all bigshots owning pharmacies with degrees and houses and investments in Zurich. All I got is an empty packet of pringles and an owl from the british museum on either side of me. I might write an email to Marc Maron; my favourite comedy, just to not face the overwhelming and negative thoughts.

I do not fear that I am returning to old thought patterns. I am seemingly willing to return to them. I feel like I have nothing to protect me from them as the coping strategies are not surviving well.

I look forward to purging. It's the only delight I can allow in my head right now. There is probably a sense in which I am not recognising how good life is in the context of all the girls that express interest in me. Adding to that, why am I banking my self esteem on what a girl thinks? I suppose it is because I have nothing else to feel good about, especially because my body is fat again. I'll purge and maybe do some more weights. I did about a hundred dumbell reps today and jogged quite hard wearing only a t-shirt, trousers and boots to the hospital and back.

You, blog, I found hard to tell these things to. I found it hard to write about my feelings and weaknesses since Monday because it feels harder to open up, and more of a protection just to bottle it all up. I always want to be the man with the plan, the man with the trick and trump card up one's sleeve. I don't have a trump card. I just have a doctors surgery appointment card and a form to fill out to give evidence of me looking for a job when I sign in for JSA.

Here's to hoping that this is a problem that requires tricks, techniqes and mental discipline to fight. Winning this battle wont make me proud. It's a dirty war and a battle I do not choose to get involved it, it chose me.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

busy day

i'm going to be quick in this post today because my mind seems to be in that analytical frame of thinking and i am not very eloquent. Today i have done the following;

1. Packed bags for travel
2. Packed presents (well my mum did) for antonia and her daughter
3. Got 'goodies' (alcohol and choco) for ex
4. looked after my nephew
4. prepared my book reader for the weekend
5. prepared my mp3 player (audiobooks, pictures and music) for travel
6. Did some weights when my parents took the nephew home to his parents
7. re-booked ticket to leave a day later (at antonia's request)
8. recieved an invitation for a sort of date with an old uni friend (girl) but had to turn her down because i'm away this weekent
9. ex is texting me and seems to be amicable and nice to me, maybe she wants to sex me
10. listened to a lot of classical music
11. thinking about not packing my laptop (I'm full already, and I have put a lot of stimulating books, music and two magazines in the travel pack)

Today I have been busy. My emotions are in a different way when I'm busy. My parents are nice about the fact that I am visiting my ex and her daughter. i love them dearly. I was hoping they would be part of my family. My ex hurt me in such a deep way that I do not think that I'd like to get back with her again. Sex, however, is a different matter...

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

deja vu

I had a series of thoughts just now that i felt that I had had exactly about 5-10 months ago. I do not find it assuring. I was thinking to myself:

I'll take these books downstaris to clear up the room
Objection: If I take it down I might not be as motivated to continue working on the proposal
That's the way it is if you are living with the parents
Have I had these thoughts before?
I guess it would be different if I lived back home again, I'd hate it.
If I were in this situation at home writing a proposal Id have even less of a chance than I did now (now being indexical to about janurary)

This isn't good, getting repeated thoughts exactly foreshadowing my life now

my brother called. asking me personal questions about how I am post break up. Didn't really wanna talk to him about my personal life. I think he's going out with his ex girlfriend. That sounds funny, cos I might be closer to my ex. He said it's good that we are still friends. I still have begrudging resentment and a sense of betrayal. but we are still on speaking terms.

I wish I could do more with this proposal but tongiht I am just frazzled. I'll continue tommorow, as much as I hate giving up right now, my concentration has finished.


Today (deja vu?) I have been putting more thought towards writing my dissertation proposal. I feel like it is more urgent now and for probably the past 3 weeks, it has been putting me off doing EVERY other task, including looking for jobs. This is no good and this must not continue.

I am blogging with reluctance because I want to get this proposal finished. I find myself increasingly frustrated because I feel that it is a bullshit proposal. I have been thinking about it in quite a few ways and trying to explore other avenues, as well as just trying to write something down to send off to the supervisor. I feel stuck between mediocrity and the highest order of thought. My problem is that I belong to neither. I am superior to the terms of the mediocre intellect such taht even teaching 'A' level is beneath me, and yet, I am coming to some negative conclusion that my thesis proposal may be no good at all.

I don't want to re-invent the wheel and I want to have a focussed and specific remit for the thesis, but some other issues that are tangential and slightly related keep coming to my mind. On the other hand I feel like I am not writing enough down. I am thinking of the maxim 'cut if you have the guts' right nowl. Although I can't cut out too much because I MUST put in the things that the proposed supervisor has suggested to me.

I feel like a right old loser today. I have been banished from the university world of academia and intellect, and I do not belong anywhere else. This past year and a half of limbo demonstrates that.

Oh, in other news, I booked an appointment to give blood for next week, and booked a train to see Antonia. She wants me to visit her and for some stupid reason I agreed. I suppose it is the possibility of having sex with her. I am really inviting myself to getting hurt again, and inviting myself to her just undermining me all the time. I'm lonely. Although today, thinking about my thesis proposal again and not ignoring it has made me ignore that. In a sense I have been busying myself but in another sense I have just been procrastinating while actually thinking about my thesis and what to write. Fuck. One step forward, but lots more to go. I hate this. I wish I had this kind of motivation to get a job and improve my life.

I problably wont' even get into this doctoral scheme I'm applying to. Why do I bother sometimes...

Monday, December 7, 2009

Easiest £100 wait

Just came back from the job centre and gotten back home. My sign in time is 9:40, not only did I get it signed before that time, I'm back home 5 minutes before that time. I won't say that I'm 'happy' about it but considering the past plights I have had while waiting in the job centre, today was an easy two weeks of getting my job centre money.

I feel that the way to forget the fact that I am in this shitty situation is to buy things. The desire and the lust to spend excites something deep inside my brain. A mechanism that provides reward. In a sense, I think that is why I purge. I haven't actually purged in a while, but it feels like I have on account of indulging in Mia's temptations.

I have been thinking a bit about that girl who messaged me, lets call her Hannah. Hannah is an older woman, somehow I find that attractive in a woman. A mature woman who likes me as a sexual toy but also takes me serious as an intellectual. I feel like maybe how a woman might feel of an older man in a patriarchal set of presuppositions. Hannah strikes me as a secret depressive, this has let off some triggers of my past behaviour. I felt protective and caring of Marie and everything she wanted I woud try to do for her. I don't want to be that person again and I must respond differently in order for the situation not to repeat itself. It is weird thinking about the possibility of another girl when my ex is warming up to us getting together again. I want to give up on Antonia. If I go back to her I will compromise some part of my integrity after what she did to me.
The other day I was thinking about putting my money somewhere where I could make it turn into more money; maybe gambling or the stock market, or some kind of way to turn capital into more capital. A part of me has a lust for money. I want to live in my own home, I want tohave a life that doesn't involve me hiding my masturbation from my parents next door. I want to use my bedroom to have sex, I want to have my friends come over without stepping on anyone's toes and just do what I want. Maybe I'm asking for too much out of life without putting anything in.

Speaking of putting things in I put on a bit too much weight over the past few days. I have decided to go on a fast, that is to say, a day fasting; I will not eat during sunlight hours and dine during the night. I found it a weirdly spiritual and humbling experience when I fasted in the past.

Oh not to forget, I have an interview at 2pm, that's like 4 hours from now. I better get the printer online. Fuck.

Back to life. It does at least look like I can get the day started and get things done.


Saturday, December 5, 2009

deferring strategies

while jogging, I felt a strong sense of distress. My motivation was quite low. I did manage 3.6 mi, 6.5k and a few upper body and ab excercises in addition to the jogging.

I am tempted to purge. Another coping strategy presently involves binging. My coping stragegy for today consists of a very distinct kind of binging. I bought 8 packets of prawn flavoured crisps in between the adverts for Star Trek Voyager and DS9. I was scoffing myself in front of a fine episode of star trek.

In a moment of feeling gloom for myself (ex girlfriend facebook related trigger), I was thrown a proverbial life jacket. The girl whom I had sent a message to on a social networking site who seemed to warm up to my background and intellectual interests, as well as my long hair and androgynous looks, had sent me a brief message of an apology. The lady didn't reply because she was busy with other things and in her words, was feeling quite depressed.

While not to poopoo on her plight; I did feel a sense of assurance. Unpacking a double negative; the lady from the social networking site seemed to like me, and it wasn't because of me that she didn't reply. The lady intends to email me with a longer reply to our conversation that met a three-four week stop.

Today I attended to one of those tasks that I have been putting off for ages, that being, what I call 'foldering'. I also reorganised my drawers. In a way that a single thing like recieving a message from a social networking site that changes your mood completely, I also had an upsetting, disressing talk with my ex on msn. She upset me a great deal. I also came to the realisation that I am terribly alone. I have no one to talk to about my feelings and i feel captured and helpless. I am 23 years old and I'm living with my parents. I dont see any short term improvement and the longer this horrid situation plays out, the further away my aspirations can really be realistic.

Someone please throw me a life preserver and save me. I was feeling fairly content throughout the day, despite a few triggers (because I was organising triggering documents). I did a lot of good work today and untangled a big problem of mess.

I hope to move forward

Friday, December 4, 2009

Hyopthesis confirmed

I didn't get the PGCE place from the interview last week. A GTTR letter told me so.

After finding out, I felt upset. I ate all the hobnobs and a bit of the dauphinoise while watching star trek. I think that I feel better now. I considered that as binging. I have decided to clear my day, and go jogging now.

Hypothesis: I may not have gotten the PGCE place

I woke up properly around 10:30 this morning. I woke up around 8am, left the TV on, and then I went to sleep again. I opened my eyes with a bit more physical strength, but still weak and tired, two hours and a half later I had a wank, and then a big shit. It wasn't a painful excretion, but it was one which expounded a lot of waste. After a few minutes of sitting in the toilet for a significant period of time (shitting). I felt all that tiredness go away. Instead of wanting to go back to bed I decided to brush my teeth. Brushing my teeth is a symbol of order in my routine. It is normally a good sign of a day.

i did about 6 scheduled hours of reading in about an hour. They were minor reading tasks. I have a hankering for hobnob vanilla creams. They are 70kcal per biscuit. I think I'm going to have a lunch break and watch star trek. 6 hours of reading isn't bad in an  hour but I'm going to pace myself. I'm just on the cusp of not having a GCal block.

Oh yes, I got an email from a university 'thanking' me for my application. I take this as a sign that my application for the PGCE (the one that I was interviewed for last week) was unsuccessful. The way that the application scheme works for PGCE is you apply successively to each university. Failing one gets you to apply to the other.

I am living a fair bit through memories of previous years. Yesterday was Marie's birthday, coming up is perhaps the most difficult aniversary of them all. The first PhD rejection. I'm not sure how I will experience that one. I'm going to remove the reminder from my calendar.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Didn't get the library job

5pm. A short email from the HR manager; I skim-read these emails to look for keywords to find out their immediate conclusion instead of all the filler words like 'Dear Conatus...'

there was a 'we would like to thank you' - I thought that might be positive. Then I saw the sign that I didn't get it 'unfortunately, we couldn't....' et cetera. For a brief moment I ws actually filled with the hope that I might, even with a menial job, have a change to climb up and improve my life and be somewhat normal again. That I can have the money to be independent, go to pubs and buy things; have one night stands, meet girls, live on my own, have sleepoers, parties, games consoles, free time, pizza takeaways and most importantly, no more job centre waiting.

Unfortunately it was not meant to be. I know that these things take time and I am really glad to even get to be shortlisted. When my parents left the house I was considering whether or not to purge. I sat by the toilet pondering. When I faced the mirror, I saw my fat body. I distracted myself by shaving, as I did not shave in the morning. I sat, pondering. It's now or never. My parents are rarely both out of the house and this was the perfect moment. I decided, for some reason not to purge. I decided to focus my attentions on cooking. I considered making a mix of fried vegetables. I was also pondering takeaway chinese. I decided to chop vegetables. It took me about an hour or so of constant labour to chop, peel, boil, crush, and prepare a potato dauphinoise. It's been in the oven now for 15 minutes.

How ironic it is as an antidote to purging to focus my mind on cooking. I try to cook mroe intricate and technical things, so as to distract my mind and yet lust over this food, as well as making myself wait and not seek that instant sense of gratification.

Perhaps the biggest thing that stopped me from purging today is what I wrote to you on the previous post. I wrote that on this day; Marie's birthday, and the day after Antonia was abandoned, the one thing I cuold do differently so as to avoid recurrences of the past is to improve my self. I am halfway through reading an academic paper; one that is part of my so-called academic specialism. If it were brighter and less cold I may have gone for a jog.

I do not think that I have done very much today. I did not finish the proposal but I did make some way into reforming it and a vague plan for re-writing it. I have a essay writing block with it. I found that my proposal is supposed to be c.1000 and a previous blog post that I wrote was about 1.5k. I find that I am able to write quite a lot about myself and I find that somewhat assuring.

Despite the events of today, regarding my not getting a job (again), as well as fairly uneventful things going on. I feel perhaps a small victory. I need to apply to more jobs. My schedule doesn't seem to be doing my any favours these days. They seem to be tasks which do not directly help me or self indulgent.

The task I keep putting off

Probably for the past week or so, I have been putting of one scheduled task. This has led me to keep changing my schedule in order to avoid doing it, avoid thinking about it for another day, and be lazy. The task that I have been putting off is the revision of my PhD proposal. I am reluctant to do it in a sense because it symbolises the last ditch effort to apply for a PhD. My actions seem to express more about me than I would care to reveal.

Today, I woke up and got out of bed around 11. I opened my eyes around 10, but felt like just laying in bed and enjoyed the comfort of a lie in. The alarm went off around 7 in the morning, but since I didn't have a job centre appointment, or an interview; some of the many reasons why I have made a good example of myself by waking up early and revisiting my old punctual self. Getting up around 11 isn't terrible, but it isn't ideal either. In terms of the really bad insomnia I so described in previous posts I must admit that it has been an improvement. I am quick to describe when things go badly compared to when things improve. This might give you the unreliable perception that my life is a spiral to despair. What the reality is, I think, is not exactly like that; how exactly it is, however, is not clear to me.

Yesterday was an instance of a fairly good day. I had an interview for a university library. It was nice to go on the tube just a bit after rush hour and see the famous London commuting crowds. There was a woman who had an offensive smelling packet of doritos; it was the' red' flavour. I always describe it as the red flavour because you have cool original, cheese, and then the 'third' red flavour which always seems to change; spicy chilli, mexican fire etc. Anyway, it is the most disgusting stench and in a tube it is worse because I can't escape it.

The tube station that I got off from had only one functioning lift and no escalator. With a hundred odd people wanting to go up; the lift could only take about 20 at a time at a rate of one per 2 minutes. The interview I had last week took me to the same station and I decided to go up the stairs which I found slightly claustrophobic. I chose to stick with the stairs. After getting out of the station I felt a sense of tranquility walking through central london, some of the streets were quiet without cars and yet there were consistently groups of people passing by from time to time. I suppose now typing this it reminded me of my old university. The quiet student environs which is only occaisioned by the bustling groups that leave seminars and lectures after the 50 minute session.

The prospect of the interview was scary. This was on account of my great investment in wanting this job. I would really like to have this job; I could earn real money, even if it is less than the 'national' average. I could have a real job and not be a loser, sure, it may not be a graduate job, but it would be near a university and something that I would vaguely envisage myself doing. I look forward to hearing back. I am also preparing for disappointment but I am really lucky to have been shortlisted. During the actual interview, in front of a panel of three (It felt like dragons den), I answered their questions. I was somewhat nernous. I made sure to pay eye contact equally to all of them and not stare around the room. I violated that a few times. I find it hard to look someone in the eye when I talk to them. I made them laugh, as I answered questions they wrote into their notes.

I think that they would decide the candidate during the evening after seeing the potentials during the day to decide who got the job. After finishing the interview I went to the British museum, again. It is one of my most favourite spots in all the world. The parthenon has a resonance and a dear place in my heart. If I ever go insane or want to escape, or prepare for suicide, i'd firstly go to the parthenon. Anyone who would know anything about me would visit the parthenon for the final confrontation. I went into argos to indulge my spending desires, but luckily I found the products I wanted were not in stock. Also lucky is my bank balance is very low. Probably the lowest it has been in half a year. I do not normally let my balance go below 300; it is presently £96. I expect another £100 coming in next week (which I quite relish). Buying a tuxedo has its costs I suppose.

In between writing paragraphs of this blog posts I have been writing a bit more in my proposal. I don't feel a sense of writing block so much as writing my ideas in as crude a way as possible in order to just write something down. I will need to 'refine' it a lot more afterwards.

Another thing I need to address is that my Ex called me late yesterday and told me that her man has abandoned her. I expected no less. She was very upset. I wish I could help her, I also felt a strange mix of feelings an an inner conflict. This also compounds with triggering some memories and feelings that seemed to repeat themselves concerning Marie. It is Marie's birthday around now and two years ago I made a big effort to give her presents. I was one of few people to give her anything for her birthday and I thought I had the best possible chance with her. How foolish I was. two years have passed since then and they have been long and short. A lot has happened inside me but not much in terms of social acceptability and conformity. Today, on the day that I may be on the cusp of getting a job offer and a place on a PGCE course, I am reminded starkly of what I have left behind and the very things that have encapsulated my darkest years, which I still may be living; falling in love with wimen, and caring for those girls who are distressed that trust me enough to share their pain. I worry for the despair of my former love, but I also feel a sense in which she wants us to be together again. I am conflicted in considering whether I want to get together with her again (in some ways I do), with what it would be like if I did not get together iwth her and just moved on with my life. She wants me to move on with my life. All of these feelings make a cocktail that reminds me of my bulimic urges.

Lately, like say, the past 9 days. I have felt my bulimic urges rising inside, the thoughts, the invitations, the fictional girl Mia inviting me, lustfully, lovingly, to purge. It is easy, and tempting to simplify life through bulimia goggles, it is hard, with or without bulimia, to understand what's really going on inside me. Apprehending what exactly the nature of my inner conflict is. I feel that thinking about this moer, the situation of her despair developing will revert me and my patterns of thinking and acting right back to the days when I chased marie like anidiot. Waiting in the rain wanting to see her and make it all better. I ignored my own healing in order to attend to hers, when she didn'teven want me. Who paid the price for that? I did, with my masters degree grades and my non-place in a PhD.

On this day, I am waiting for interview results from a teacher training course, a job at the library and scheduled to write up more for my PhD proposal. On the other hand, i am visited by the reminder that it was Marie's birthday party two years ago, and Antonia is presently in a state of despair. I can do nothing about the past, or what happened back then, or for Antonia's situation now unless she wants me to. I suppose thinking more about it won't help anyone, I am merely repeating myself in terms of all the thoughts I have had and repetition doesn't give me anything new only more sterss. They say in depression circles that when you fear a recurrence or return to a previous depressive phenomenology, remember that what happened in the past may not necessarily repeat itself exactly or at all in the present. The one thing that I can do now is attend to my own life and situation. Concentrate on my life, on my goals, on my moving foward and advancement to my future. I have only myself to blame if I fail or distract myself. I will do now what I didn't do two years ago. That is what I will make different of now so returning or reoccurences will not be so. I will now get on and keep myself busy. It's the proposal for now.

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

The world has gotten a little bit smaller

I woke up a bit earlier than my insomniac last week had allowed. I woke up by myself around 8-9am. I lay in bed for most of it, and masturbated for a while, before getting up around 10:30. I decided then to go out for a jog. It took about 80 minutes. I took a new route today, I went for 5.3 mi, 8.6k. The route had unfortunately fallen short of my previous route, but on the other hand I must admit that it was a new route and I just wanted to explore.

I am currently living in the area where I grew up. I suppose in many ways this is a luxury and a curse to still be in the place I've lived in since I was a child. I know some friends who envied me for staying in secure and familiar locations and keeping all my friends, on the other hand, I envy their adventure and well-travelled nature.

I was entertaining the thought of jogging the route that I took to school. I went about 0.4 of the way; I get off normally at a tube that goes a far distance away from a shopping centre near my school and normally walk from that station. I can do that aforementioned route and the route that I did today partly covers the journey to school but all that seperates those two is a road that links them, it is a fairly long road, but not as long as the roads that I paced down today.

Looking at my body now, I see that I have red patches on my belly. I dont know if that is from the cold, or not having enough oxygen/heart activity pumping through it, but I think it is a good sign of improving fitness. I am a work in progress and I am not by far a fit person. My man boobs are still there and my bell still portrudes. I am talking to an obese girl on msn who I hate increasingly.

Monday, November 30, 2009

The odd dream

I had an odd dream this morning. I had a dream that I was a labourer working for a daily basis for some building contractor or some kind of open site with other workers. I recalled that they gave the workers a free lunch and some of the other manual labourers were threatening, and it was in Wales. I had some kind of associations with my ex girlfriend while I was working as a labourer. There was a builders breakfast that was served in a queue, they gave us a work uniform/fatigue to wear and some of the people there were regular contractors who gave some assurance to the new entrants like myself. I was looking forward to the sum of money that would have been paid cash in hand to me. When I woke up I felt a realisation and perspective more of how to interpret the dream, as it did seem pretty mysterious to me while in the dream. I thought it was a dreadful dream and I thought I would be very unhappy if I worked explicitly for money rather than a job I would choose to do and reasonably enjoy. I then felt a sense of how the eastern european workers may feel nowadays, and that this may be their daily plight; the insecurity of cash in hand, how no one is out there to vouch for you except fellow workers, and a certain sense of old fashioned proletarianism.

Writing these thoughts down probably display me as some kind of lazy slothful person, I found the dreams terrifying and I felt a somewhat mild sense of relief, thinking that such would be my plight if I lived with my now-ex. It is hard to have any kind assurance these days. In other news, I have recieved an interview to volunteer with the local police force. The role that I have been invited to is probably administrative, and I dont currently feel anything at all about this.

When I woke up properly this morning, I have awoken in a somewhat representative fashion that has been established over the past few days. The first thing I do is get up and put my alarm clock off at 8am and then go back to sleep. I am trying to set the right time for me to wake up, that is early enough for me to stay up but not too late to be lazy. Too late is 1pm. Presently I find it exceptionally difficult to wake up between 7-8am and I fool myself into going back to sleep. When I type this my rationality seems absent in my actions. I have an overwhelming disposition just to listen to my body and go back to sleep. I assert to myself now that this is not the right approach. I must not allow myself to sleep late. I got up about a quarter to midday today. Late, but not too late by more extremes I've had in the past.

Lately I have not been keeping to my schedule, or any kind of routine. I jogged once last week; granted, my reluctance to jog last week was as a result of my flu nearly 2 weeks ago. That's passed now and so I am able to face the future in a more positive manner. A few eventful things had happened last week, and I was looking forward to them the week before. I felt a sense of excitement and joy about the PGCE interview, the other interview invite I had recieved (That's on wednesday this week). I had bought a tuxedo and had the telephone interview as well. With the excitement of two weeks ago and the unusual amount of activity that represented a culmination of all my applications and actions of previous weeks; I have since then, felt a sense of depleted motivation. Now I am at a lower gear and my concentration and powers of action are more difficult.

The silence in a conversation

If I spent the first few moments of writing in this blog/diary  explaining or trying to vindicate why I haven't opsted for a while I suppose I would do this activity all the time. Writing in this blog is like talking to a friend. Although I have a few friends; it seems that very few of them are on my side and are allies in my battle against my depression and increasing sense of despair. I stay guarded from my friends and family. I entertain a position of silence and submissiveness. The other day I felt a flash of anger, I wanted to insult people and assert onto them a sense of superiority from my masters degree and greater wisdom and intelligence as well as being physically imposing. I then paused to think that being angry and violent to people is like a fantasy to me.

My anger fantasy is my desperate desire to want to have control. I suppose it is like the rapist's anti-feminist assertion of power over women; the desperate want to assert brute and mindless power by inciting fear and sexual violence. I think that anger is in all of us and I am by no means a sexually angry person. My anger, however, reflects that deep down I have a sense of grandeur inside me, a desperate need that I want to achieve a powerful place by means of working hard to where I want to be.

My life right now represents everything that is antithetical to that. I am powerless, if I visit my ex girlfriend I willhave to be amicable to a man who is a complete fuck. As I type this I feel a desire to throw down my table and scream. I've learned in the past that if I were to throw something down in anger, I would have to pick it up, and probably repair, or dispose of a destroyed object. There is nothing more humiliating than seeing the results of your anger than picking up the pieces of what you have thrown about and destroyed. I suppose my life is like that in another sense. My life right now is so because of my lack of persistence at finding a job; my lack of effort during my MA studies and the explanations of my subsequent rejections from PhD programmes; I am living with my parents as a result of my lack of committment with the woman whom I had loved very much, warts and all. Now she is with a man as old as my dad and she intends to have another child, with him.

*Pause typing to cry*. End pause

Writing down these feelings, I in part imagine to be some form of catharsis. I do not realistically envisage any kind of catharsis in depression. All that happens is that you cry, and cry some more, and cry because you have spent so much of your life crying and not doing. It would seem that a solution to this is not to listen to this desire to give in to the dark feelings and despair. This can be difficult because there is a certain indulgence that is being denied when we deny our feelings. Aristotle writes about the positive nature of catharsis for the moral life of a person. Is it for me, a positive, or even tangible thing to engage in catharsis? Is depression perhaps, just an endless wailing of tears, if I had allowed it to be? I think it is the latter.

In writing this post I have kept a list of things that I wanted to talk about. I listed definitive things that I wanted to list down and I have also let myself go free forming on my thoughts and feelings as I imagine that I will come up with new thoughts and feelings as I type this down. Writing this methodological remark encapsulates this latterly spontenaity. I also realise that my grammar and lexicon are more of my own mind when I type this. In normal life, like when I humbly sit in the queue at the job centre , or am talking to my parents, or some friend or family member who is asking about my current hell of unemployment; I dumb down, and I feel that I slowly accept a droll cockney ignorance. This blog, this diary of my thoughts may be the only preservation of myself in this battle against myself and my mental death. I suppose that is why I feel so eager to type here. When I talk to my ex on the phone, she seems reluctant to talk to me because my phone has a very weak microphone and she cannot hear me. It is usual that I speak too quietly on the phone. When I speak to others, I speak with a quiet sense of defeat, and I wish not to talk to anyone at all. I prefer the comfort of groups because when you are with more than two people; you can hide behind both of them whilst giving the appearance of conversing. There is not a profound and intimate interrogation of one's personal life in the group conversation, except, of course, when the whole group turns on me. That situation I somewhat dread. I am being slowly led to an insight about group conversation. Some people, my dad, for example, seem to dominate a conversation in a way that is entirely negative. To push a certain agenda constantly or single topic of conversation; conversely, to change the subject to irrelevant matters or not to stick to a subject at all, seems to put the art of conversation to a detriment. Constant non-sequiturs are common among people I have talked to; sometimes changing the subject is apt. I fear, after typing this down, that I may excercise this.

*Pause, to reflect, and cry a little*. End pause.

Just now I have unveiled a revelation about myself which I think triggered a sense of upset. I reacted to this by my desire to purge. I then paused, took a hankerchief from my interview suit to wipe my tears, stare in the mirror, sit on the floor and think through some things, and then I weighed myself. My weight is 218.8; that is for all concerns and interests, my 'default weight'. I've lost 2lbs since my last reading. That is a positive sign. I'm going to play up the positives as much as I can.

What I realised just now is that there was a time when I was with my ex and the man who is now her partner. This guy talks a lot of shit, and being academic and intellectual, I felt obliged to tell him that he misunderstood the theory of relativity and he should consider the background of the developments of 19thC mathematics that underlie the theoretical physics of Einstein. This man talked a lot of shit about hexagons and new age glossy pseudoscience without any knowledge of mathematics, physics or the philosophy of science. I tried to explain some basics of classical logic to him and he kept going off on a digression about antrhopomorphised depictions of the universe. I often think about this conversation because there are so many flaws in the argumentation of his that I need to bring up all of my skills against him.

Later on it was said by my now ex that she felt uncomfortable in the environment, 'energy' - so she calls it. Because I dmoinated in a conversation that made her feel not only uncomfortable but unable to be herself. This immediately connected when I thought of my dad and his style of conversation. I have adopted a subtle and very negative flaw of his. Being silence, and embracing the silence in a conversation, in a sense, making a strong effort not to be the person I normally want to be, is liberating.

I have decided to break up my thoughts into multiple posts. I feel after typing and emotionally exploring for an hour that I cannot emotionally write anymore, or probe into my thoughts. On my list, I have more to say.

Monday, November 23, 2009

Stoic frustrations/Thank you for apologising

Today I got up quite early. I put my mobile phone/alarm on my table and away from my bed so that I would have to get up early. I had a period of about 10-15 minutes where I felt quite horrible and groggy. After that short period of grogginess I felt better. I got up early to sign in to the job centre. As I got into the job centre, there was a short queue as the building had not opened yet. The queue at a job centre was a sight that I have never seen before, as the doors were often opened. This image was one that I see on the news all the time and actually being a part of it made me grow up a bit and humbled me.

I had a long wait to sign in. There were 2-3 people who signed in before me despite me handing over my papers earlier. I observed a lot of black people. There were a lot of people who probably were aged between 17-20; they mentioned how they wanted to go to uni and were thinking about going as an alternative to unemployment. That sounded refreshing that these guys would turn to education so willingly. I saw a few asians, eastern europeans and midget women. A few obese people were there as well. I recall a man who was probably between 35-42 who came with his adorable little daughter, she was smaller than my nephew and probably even younger; but she was walking and she had the most adorable lexicon. The little child said: dada, mama and byebyeee. The child also had a tiny T-shirt that had a picture of Elmo on it that said 'tickle me'. Seeing a child can give me instant joy. I love adorable children and I find them a source of joy in my life. My parents often bicker although when my nephew comes for his weekly visit we often unite in our adoration of him.

I was in this wait to sign in for around an hour. I managed to miss the hourly train home so i was stranded on the station. At least there was a metro to read for the space of 15 minutes and a nice article on how men are becoming more image conscious. After reading the metro I decided to leave the waiting room and stand outside while listening to the mp3 player blaring from my heavy metal playlist.

I was frustrated at the long wait at the job centre but I was slightly absolved of that when the man at the desk apologised for the wait. I felt a bit more sympathetic that he had acknowledged the wait and that it was slightly irritating. Establishing that it is the second signing in that I have had on the basis of my new claim; I have to go to this mandatory monthly thing that I have already went to in my first claim. On the plus side at least I get money into my account. That seems to be the only thing that my lousy self seemed to focus on when I was being frustrated by the riff  raff that were passing by me with their lack of social mobility. I was thinking about all the things that I could buy with an account that has about £380.

I was then having a few triggering moments while I was waiting both for signing in and going home. That little girl reminded me of Antonia's daughter and how she is constantly growing up. I thought about going jogging again. I may go after this blasted job centre meeting on monday morning. I have made my schedule quite busy this coming week, and I need to be far more organised. I think that waking up early was a good call, and I may try that mobile phone trick more often. A good hot drink also helps.

Since coming home, I have been preparing materials for my interview tomorrow. I am nearly finished with the preparations, all I need is to finalise my lesson plan, print it out, and then plan a route. It feels very long to me as I want to just give up and lay down. I am quite tired and that will make for a good night's sleep.

Today was the scheduled telephone assessment for my counselling. After the call had ended, I went for a wee and started writing this blog post, with intermittent pauses and monologues to myself while typing, I think that the outcome may not have been as good as I initially sought it to be.

The interviewer called me an hour late, she had apologised with an explanation that seemed valid, and given my previous delight at people apologising for genuine things outside of their control, I overlooked the previous anger that I was building up to throw at them. During the interview they had asked me questions about my condition, they seemed to be very superficial, but important to establish some background of where i am and so forth.

I pointed out some things that I found difficult to answer; one question was posed as if it were a conclusion from the previous premise but if that were so it would have been a non-sequitur so I clarified that up with them. I also found some questions difficult to answer because the condition of the answer was to give a number between zero to eight.

How badly do you want this depression sorted out? In a scale? I can't say. I want some way to move forward and to find some resolution to the situation. Some of the questions seemed very forward and in such a way that I am only able to answer with a pause and in the intimacy of trust. Neither factors I had in the case of a phone call. I ended the phone call when I answered a question and I made the point that things seemed to be phenomenologically similar to how my depression was in the past. I don't know about specific medical words or anything like that and I stated that I did not want things to end up the way that they did last time.

The woman did not know what phenomenology was, and asked 'you are worried about the nature of existence'? At that point, the penny dropped, I had a somewhat triggering moment and I said with grace, calm and bluntness: That's ontological, you fuck.

The call ended and I had a brief, controlled moment of anger. They haven't called back. I was preparing to fire some hate at them for not recognising that phenomenological self-report is an increasingly recognised term in the recent literature in philosophy of medicine and medical humanities. I felt a vigilante sense of victory as i put the phone down on them, and it reminded me of what happened in the past. I now, in the time I have taken to pause and type this post, perhaps regret that decision of deriding them. They might not follow up my case. I won't have a chance to abuse them any more. Perhaps most upsetting is that I've shot myself in the foot in terms of advancing my progress. Back to work.

Sunday, November 22, 2009


Today I have had a very late wakeup. I got up around 2pm and I have found my motivation quite low and most of my day has been very difficult in trying to get something done. At the moment the two things that I have put the most conscious effort in include getting to sit on my chair and looking at my schedule and doing some minor rescheduling.

I have been listening to an audiobook today called 'the borderlands of science'. There is a section on how people are cranks about presenting nonsesnse theories of everything. Somehow I am reminded of my current situation. My doctoral dissertation was rejected, and I am no longer part of the academic establishment. I wsi h to have an academic career and present my thesis but I have been excluded and kicked out finding any outlet to express myself. Some of them have masters degrees, as do I.

I feel that I may be a crank, since I fulfill many of the conditions for being a crank. In between finishing this post I went to procrastinate by practicing some piano. It was somewhat productive b ut it made me very aware of my limitations and my difficulties. I have difficulties but right now I seem not to be righting them but just seeking rest and escape. My head is not concentrating very well at the point when I am on the cusp of getting out of unemployment limbo.

I must keep fighting or else I'll stay in this hellhole forever.

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Sickness and weakness

I have been ill for the past couple of days. I am still a bit poorly today, but at least now I have a greater functionality. In the past few days I have felt a distance from my depressive tendencies, although not always from my anxiety. I started thursday morning having slept for maybe some 90 minutes. I left a Michael Shermer audiobook on, I then felt the need to go to the toilet, as one does; as well as a slight stuffiness in my lungs.

I had quite a long poo, and as I sat in the toilet for longer, I felt more and more ill. I then stood up to wipe myself, and then it happened: I suddenly felt the need to vomit. About 4 hours previous to the vomiting I ate burnt toast. It was entirely burnt and consisted mostly of black carbon. I vomited it out, but I had also been dehydrated. Dried burnt toast without much 'liquid' sustinance made vomiting difficult. I vomited a few more times after that. I woke up my parents. The pain was too intense not to make a noise as I was vomiting involuntarily. Because of the dehydration and the struggle, I suffocated a bit while trying to vomit. I managed a slightly horrid looking membrane mixed with brown powder and sesame seed.

I also went to the toilet a lot more, while vomiting. One time during this morning i had sat on the toilet bowl and needed to vomit at the same time, so I puked in the bathtub right next to me. Luckily the consistency was thin so I could use the shower hose to rinse it out without any suspicion. I had been drained of fluids that morning and I could barely drink anything out of extreme pain. The rest of the day I spent bedridden with the hourly need to get rid of anal fluids. My parents were good enough to get me lucozade, and not complain about my personal hygiene or unkempt room.

The day after (friday), I had more mobility, but I still was quite ill. My temperature had gone but I did still have some signs of diahorrea. I did get a little bit better eventually; to the point of eating, and drinking lots of lucozade. I had a slight problem of being a bit gassy. I couldn't tell if I needed to fart or have a shit; at times it was both. I changed my underpants about 3 times on thursday due to 'accidents'. My parents brought home takeaway, which I was barely able to eat.

Today I have been a fair bit better. I felt that this morning I would be able to go out tonight with a friend. At present I feel that I may not be as sure as I was earlier. My tummy is still hurting a bit and I had a mild headache. I still seem to have intestinal problems as well as a sense of fatigue.

With the exception of a bit of today and yesterday, I have not felt aas depressed during my physical illness. It is as if my head was dealing with the physical pain more than all the things going on in my life, and I allowed myself a 'break' from things and that I would allow myself to reschedule things and nothing right now was terribly urgent. The world would still turn on its axis despite my illness and life will go on. What is two days in the grand scheme of things?

Today, however, now that my functionality is a lot better. I have decided to make a start on things, what I have actually done is minimal but I have been fairly active today compared to previous days. I have had my first solid shit in about 3 days. I also think that my insomnia has been slightly countenanced by this period of illness. I ought to have a shower at some point and mark all the things that are worth noting in my schedule.

I felt that noting down my illness and absence (even if it was a couple of days) is notable. I like noting things in terms of stages, and all the little changes I undergo. My weight has gone down a lot (from diahorrea), but I have regained about half of it again.

I am not sure when I can start jogging again. I am suppsoed to be jogging tomorrow but given the events of thursday I am allowed to be lenient. I also went 10.8k this week, so I dont have too much to prove. I'm not in physical shape to push myself anyway.

I know that no one may actually be reading this, but I feel that writing to you helps in little ways. You (the blog) are like a friend, and I can tell you the events of my life in an honest way. I can also be selective in order to affirm certain parts of my life story. That isn't to say that I am 'lying'. Although the narrator (me) cannot always be honest.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

5 things i am positive about

I am going to make a real effort to say something positive today, so I decided to make a list of 5 positives.

1. My book review has been mentioned in amazon and the publisher that made the book
2. My JSA situation seems to have finally been sorted out (whether they will pay my backdated claim remains to be seen). I have finally, money going into my account. That feels very weird.
3. My friends are organising new years day. I need to get formal evening wear. I am happy that the shop 'suits you' has serious discounts on their formal wear.
4. I went 10.8 kilometers yesterday, and 4.5k the day before. I can see more curves on my body, that is to say, curves that go in.
5. I woke up an hour earlier than I usually have today.

(I think I'll go further, as I'm on a roll)

6. I really love this melodic death metal band I'm currently listening to, Scar Symmetry. I know they are commercial and all that, but as a first listen, it is the best music I've listened to in a few weeks, given that I've got a horrible playlist of my parents late 80s CDs.

7. I think I am the fittest and healthiest I have ever been. Except for the running sores on my feet, I feel pretty good. I had a bit long shit today and it felt good expuonding all of that fecal matter. It felt like all those lbs and calories are leaving my body for good.

8. In 2 days I have the doctors appointment, next week I have an interview for the PGCE as well. In short, its kicking off, so long as I keep running, or walking, or crawling, or moving forward by some kind of abdominal worm movement.

Saturday, November 14, 2009

"only white people divorce"

Antonia's friends didn't really have a stable family structure; most of them were single parents, their das walked out on them and their kids, if they had a dad at all, had a stepdad. I was going to be part of that harem; part of that problem.

I find it secure in some respects that the familes that I have grown up in have been so stable, it's a catholic thing, it's an ethnic minority thing; its a thing about being from a 2nd generation migrant family. My parents fight sometmes. My dad is a very flawed person and my mum has minor flaws. In the case of the latter, I may excuse as my mum is wonderful and is a very kind person.  My dad, by contrast, is consumed by his own sloth and gluttony. I constantly fear seeing myself in him.

There is a family across the street. They had a son. I say 'had' as he ran away. The father of this family may have married once before, he seems to be in a different world to his wife, and his estranged son. The father is a bigoted and hateful person and it is due to his poor values that his life ended up in the way that it has.

The negative post

I feel that at the moment, things are a bit shit. Here's a list:

1. Memories: I saw pictues of antonia's beautiful daughter in my computer last night, it put me to tears instantly.
2. Memories: Toast - reminds me of being in the nuthouse
3. Memories: The shirt that my sister bought for me maybe 2 years ago on christmas barely fits me. At the time, I was offended that she got a 'large' size for me. It was too big in my bulimic state.
4. Inadequacy: I realised that I am still fat, and my belly portrudes too much by standards of wearing a dress shirt. The clothes that I currently wear give the illusion of muscularity/thinness but that is just an optical trick
5. Inadequacy: I have no job, no girlfriend and I live with my parents. I am 23 and I have never had a paying job in my life.
6. Inadequacy: I've been to the nuthouse, and if I'm honest, I dont envisage any way in which I can have someone fall in love with me again. I ruined my chance and everything has turned to shit.
7. I feel like I am being torn up inside and I feel increasingly that life is futile. There is no ideal political order, no moral or spiritual order that will culminate in some eschatological vision, and the more time that passes I grow older and without a PhD. Life is excruitiatingly meaningless. I act as if it is not. But I see less and less cause to get anything done

Effects on my behaviour:

1. Insomnia
2. Lack of motivation
3. Being behind on my schedule (relates to 2.)
4. Possible gaining of weight
5. Increased feeling of low


1. I jogged 6.5k yesterday
2. Some of my old clothes still fit (or better put, fit better now)
3. I have an interview for a PGCE
4. I have had a fairly normal girl reply to me on a social networking site. Honestly, i think it will be nice to have someone to chat to but besides that I feel like things are a touch futile on the relationship front.
5. I seem to be using up less time masturbating
6. I have gotten some concrete tasks done despite my accidie. It is not as if I have reverted to the past mindset that I used to have.

I have finished a couple of audiobooks this week, which is nice. I also seem to have a surplus of podcasts.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

The outcome of two kinds of graduates

Yesterday I was invited out to Liverpool street to meet up with a friend. Jon works as an intern in a bank; his internship is giong to end in a couple of months and he has gotten the taste of money.

When I spoke to him, he seemed, as he has always been, optimistic and like some kind of 80s yuppie. What I found entirely confusing was that this guy, who had been working behind a bar since his graduation in October 2008, got into a banking internship by july-august. Good for him. In the space between August and today, he has gotten the lust for money. I have always known him as an ambitious individual. In university he used to sell used cars, it is that kind of audacity that he has where he speaks a lot and dazzles others. I certainly was.

This fellow wants to work full time in a bank, he wants to work hard for money. His world of aspiration, the city, executive priviledges and greed are alien to me.

My life was one of working hard through my teens. I was very insecure and very lucky. I was insecure about the grades that I had gotten in my GCSE's, I was just about lucky to get into 'A' levels, and very very happy to get not only a place at university, and a pretty good one at that. Excluding the fact that I had depression. I was lucky to get a 2:i, and to get into a masters. I fucked it up when I chased Marie and Antonia during my studies. I didn't realise that my academic life had ended. i hope it may continue.

In september 2008 was the stock market craziness. Now it is hard to find a job. I have done a few interviews and the only positive that I held on to was having love. I've lost her now, and I can't find a job. I have been trying.

Perhaps getting into teaching is my best way out. Of course that PhD plan may be open, but I'm not counting on it. I hope increasingly and sincerely, that my teacher career may take off. In more positive news, I have heard that heads of departments at schools get a higher pay. 25k a year isn't something to sniff at. This isn't the most ideal of worlds. The climate outside is cold, desolate and inhospitable. So is the economy. My friend who works at the bank occupies a world that a graduate like me could never enter. He never worked very hard, yet he won the stakes. I worked my balls off and wanted an academic career. I have been chewed out and living off my parents. What hopes does a university graduate like me have, when so many others are in the same situation as I? In a sense I must just fend for myself, but I fear what will happen to wider society when such conditions which are unresolved and, recession or not, this problem will worsen.

Job seeker confusion (and introducing the 'Johns')

I think it was in some work by Carnap, or Thomas Kuhn that identifies that within any given system, there are no external standards of its verifiability. I think this as today, I have received two contradictory messages from the JSA people. One letter says: your claim for JSA has been cancelled for the sign-in that I missed, of the claim that I was not getting any money for and was rejected the whole time.

The phone call that I had recieved by contrast says that my claim has been reviewed and I am entitled to £50.95 a week. that's £101.90 a fortnight! That's better than my current ingoings.

I woke up very late today. I missed a doctors appointment by oversleeping by an hour. I had also woken up quite early and I thought for some reason I would go back to sleep, assuming that I would wake up or get out of bed in 5 minutes to get ready. Alas, I missed it. I did get out of bed at 10am, I put on some podcasts and then went to sleep. I woke up about 2pm and I realised how behind I am with my schedule. I have established such a tight schedule that my depression may get in the way.

Yesterday I went to a comedy night. Two of my friends from secondary school and sixth form invited me. One of them works at a music instrument company and is kind of high flying. John's girlfriend is - I'm not quite sure how to put this - a recording artist. I know this just from happening to know this, but he's never told me. I respect that. John's girlfriend is beautiful and so is he. They fit together. It seems that their relationship is getting more adult and mature, and he does not seem to like that. Jon, who used to be inseperable from John ( we call them the 'Johns'), is doing an internship at a major league financial something or other. I dont understand his job and I take it that he just about understands his. John's friend who came along last night was a friend from his university, he is a high flying banker or something. So, basically, they all looked like bankers, 3/6 of us probably6 did count as bankers. At the comedy night, they had seemed to realise this and it was funny. I felt distinctly underdressed compared to them, but I did not regret what I wore. I brought my most expensive and elegant long jacket and I seemed to fit in the capital among all the people who seemed to mean smoething in their jobs, and I mean nothing.

I didn't talk much, I don't have much to say. It was nice to see my friends again. I feel no jealousy as I used to, only pride that they have made it in their lives. Now I think I shall have time to make it soon. I then considered to myself that  I am uncomfortable in my life, and it is this lack of comfort that gives me an edge sometimes. In a sense, I am lucky to be where I am. The outsider always has the edge, the lack of comfort. I feel that right now comfort is the one thing that I have sought out of desparation in the lack of acceptance of my current position.

I shall try to be more positive. I am slowly getting over the breakup with Antonia. I am willing to see other people. Or, failing that, fuck.

I have been feeling distinctly lonely lately, with not many people that I can really talk to nowadays, even on the computer. I woke up really early this monday to go to the job centre. It fucked up my sleeping system, as I went to sleep in the afternoon on monday. Since then, I have very bad insomnia lately. I have been going to sleep at times like 5am. I suppose this is to blame for not getting into to doctor's surgery today. Going to the doctor is like seeing a priest. There are so many spiritual and personal issues that one has, as there are medically relevant ones for me. Here are a few:

1. I started purging
2. I have insomnia
3. I have depression that seems to  be more difficult and challenging to deal with
4. I injured my knee
5. I have carpal tunnel
6. I need help wih mental health issues, but all I get is a one month wait and an invitation for a telephone assessment that has a three week wait.

And to section me they only needed a day.


In other news. I have started purging again, and I really like it. I like the feeling of purging and how it feels like someone loves me when I do it. It feels like Mia understands me. Mia loves me, Mia knows what I'm going through. Mia won't leave me, Mia is always there, Mia will hold her gentle hand against my forehead while I despair. Mia holds me on her lap as I cry.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

My news in a list

So much seems to be going on that I think that I shall make a list:

1. I got an invitation to be interviewed for a PGCE
2. I got a prospective tutee who emailed me, she's going to be challenging to teach (student with disability) but I think I may be willing to take her on for tuition
3. I got the letter from open university about teaching (neither acceptance nor rejection letter)
4. I lost a bit of weight. Funny enough.  I am at the start weight from when I started purging. I do not think that I look the same though. If I were a pessimist I would say this shows that nothing has changed in 2 years about my shape. An optimist in me though says that I am in the best shape of my life and that I am on the road to better things.
5. I was practicing piano yesterday and discovered some blues chords
6. Social networking news: a girl commented on one of my pictures (a girl that i messaged) and said something nice; another girl who is part of a couple invited me for some kinky fun (which, although isn't a relationship, or cuddles or anything intimate, is quite smoething to look forward to); two old friends fromt he past have talked to me on msn. Both are girls, both have told me unspeakable sex things, and one of them has come out and said she wants to meet up with me and probably hook up. Both of the latterly girls are not attractive and not relationship material and I just like takling to them, but I find it assuring that someone likes me.

My ego is boosted, and some real progress in my life has seemed to be made.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

The good kind of tired

I am exhausted.

I woke up very late today at 1pm. I decided to start the day with a jog. I went for a 75 minute routine. I went a few laps around the marsh . I did some arm excercises, 80 situps (I found my record of 100 too much to beat today). I saw a man and woman jogging, the woman was hot. I presume that they were an item. The woman was fitter than the man, and quite chunky, sexy as well. I outjogged them, despite their overally stamina beating mine. I was there for longer in my defence.

My nephew is here today in the house. I practiced a bit of piano for about an hour and a half. Now I am feeling exceptionally fatigued, and unable to conentrate. I will consider this to be an off day, in the sense of not obeying anything in the schedule. My sides are hurting a bit, and my heart rate is giong in overdrive. I think that I shall take my vitamin supplements.

I think that I am hungry right now. I have not eaten anything today. I forget how it feels to be hungry. I'm feeling some serious ab pain from my workout today

Sunday, November 8, 2009


I'm going to type without thinking: for thinking involves distress

My ex called me last night, she said that she is in a relationship with this guy who is in his mid 50s, he is a hippy and lived in a caravan. I suppose I should not be surprised that thsi had happened. She said she wanted to take out her coil  and try for a baby with him. I think history is going to repeat itself for her; the man is going to run off likmy ex's other deadbeat ex partner, pregnant and alone. I hope she aborts if that is the case.

My parents are out of the house. Today I have been debating with myself whether I should purge or not. I am writing this post very flippantly and tryingj ust to state my feelings bluntly. I feel like I am a bulimic again. I want to purge again, I feel utterly distressed. I feel strangely more calm as I express this, and less disposed to purge. If I purge, I will be loveable, tortured. Desirable, thin.

I'm going to purge now.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Five things I am grateful for

I have been reading a blog post on a mental health sit that concerns whether one should let go of something in their life through certain symptoms.

Here are some things I would like to list that I am grateful for, I overlook them because I focus so much on the bad. Here is what I am thankful for:

1. I am thankful for my parents who love me
2. I am thankful for not being in debt, like student debt, council tax, utility bills, rent, or loan problems.
3. I am thankful for the luxury of having my own room, my own bed, a computer, good internet connection, a nice laptop that I got for free, free food, warmth and all the things I cherish and own I have not lost.
4. I am thankful for living in security, my person is not under threat and no one is currently intimidating
5. I am fortunate for achieving lots of things in my life. I have performed as a pianist in the past, I have written journalistic pieces, book reviews, I have given talks, seminars and run discussion groups. I have a masters.

The last one perhaps could easily turn into a negative, but I want to say that those things have made my life unique and a blessing. Not many others would have done those things. I must see unemployment as temporary, and that resolution is only around the corner.

Friday, November 6, 2009

A clear desk is a clear mind

I cleared my desk at the moment. I was watching a documentary on Iplayer about past university challenge winners. They are all exceptionally underconfident and have something very 'other' about them. I'm glad that I am not like that, although I do see a little bit of myself in them.  I suppose we have a bit of ourselves in everyone, we have those things that we see in ourselves that no one else may, or those that people see in us but we do not have any personal association with.

I cleared my desk. It made my mood change immediately. I feel a bit different now, I have brought up a small shelf from the shed into my room, that will keep somd of the artefacts in my room more organised. I have also got a big rock on my desk, that has been thtere for a while but was hiding behind my book butler, for the past 2-3 weeks I had been ripping 496 CDs, I have finally finished that now and I dont have an excuse for keeping my room in a temporary sty. It felt like a very short time in which I had all those CDs in a horrible order, it felt realyl like 3-4 days. The first day was bringing it all up, the second day was havnig a system, the 3rd day was the lazy state when I waws getting them done in any old way I could, and finding problems with the system. The last day was the finalisation and the creation of my music playlist that is about 448 hours now.

It feels a lot different having a clearer desk. I feel a lot more erratic. I miss the person that I used to be, I feel a bit dead these days not having a job and all that. I am embarrassed to answer the question 'what do you do'?

I feel a temporary sense of pleasure and that I am actually getting something done, I feel that this may just be an appearance but not a reality. It is nice to feel a bit more mentally active. I hope it lasts so I can actually get something done.

I should write poetry.

11am remarks

I've gotten up about 10, properly woke up about 10:45, breakfast comprised of orange juice and watching in the night garden, I still miss my ex and her daughter. I miss them dearly. I must move forward with my life, she certainly is. I have to rely on that big reserve of strength within.

There is a saying from Aesop that the one who complains the most suffers the least. That's probably right. The only time I ever saw my dad cry was when his brother died. One time my grandmother died and my mum cried very much. Understandable as it was her mother, but I was alone in the house. It was quite distressing to be alone with that. I called a neighbour to come over. Except for housework, my parents rarely complain about things.

I was listening to some old cds from my dad's archive. I'm listening to some pepsi chart 1997 or something. There was a song that was a theme to the tv series friends. I was actually listening to the lyrics. I forget how bleak they are: friends was a series initially about how life fucked up and didn't end up the way you thought it would when you are a young adult. The song is by a band called the Rembrandts. I bet they hate themselves for not being recognised beyond 'Friends'. It reminds me of when a girl says to a guy 'we're just friends'.

I weighed myself this morning. I have the same reading of 222.2. This means two things, one; my weight is stable, that is good. However, I'm still fat. I am definately fitter. I am that fit guy who also happens to be overweight. I see this really as a tipping point for me. This is the edge of the sword. Do I plunge the sword and continue to lose weight? or do I dance on the tip and then get fat again? My friends have pointed out to me that when I train, I must get my heart beating to a high rate so as it is 75% of capacity of what is maximum bpm. I will look at that right now as very positive.

I have been staring at this blog page, in essence, procrastinating. I feel like If I say the right thing; if I get out all of my thoughts and feelings on this page right now, I might say something that will make it all better. I think this is a sign that my will is weak right now.

My scheduled task for now is updating my CV. I'll be off to that now. Must avoid procrastination. I can return to the hell of lifelessness and accidie in the evening. Now, I can fight, I can concentrate, and win.

Thursday, November 5, 2009

I missed an interview (and I don't like it...)

I  woke up about 07:30 from my phone alarm. I felt horrible. I felt that the only thing that would relieve my anxieties and sense of distress was the option that I had of skipping the interview. I thought to myself:

i. Oh, other interviews will come
ii. I probably won't get it anyway, given my past record
iii. I feel exhausted
iv. It's unpaid, why bother
v. Its an internship to something I may not want to go in to
vi. I might end up a teacher anyway
vii. I might get the belgian PhD
viii. I might not get the belgian PhD, oh, woe is me, I don't want to do anything
ix. I would feel better if I didn't go, it would be temporary relief

I then got a call about 9:30 from the local GP. I had also gotten a call from the GP at 6pm last night. Let me address the latter first. The GP from my new surgery has a habit of calling me in the evening, and i find my evening time sacred, my parents do not go into my room, I don't talk to them very much at that time, and I wank myself silly, feeling the only sense of self-inflation (no pun here, i mean in terms of ego). The GP called last night to ask me to fill out a questionnaire, which I had already done the previous week. I was called in the morning to call a psychology appointments service. So, while they are not really answering my request for counselling by actually saying 'here's an appointment for counselling', or 'we are referring you to counselling', or 'we can't refer to to counselling'; they refer me to some psychologist fuck.

I Thought to myself, okay, I'll be stoic about this and just agree. I feel close to that anger that I used to have back in the day. But I can keep it at bat more or less these days. I don't want to sound negative all the time, although this morning was pretty depressing. I admit that I am feeling less bad today, although I could easily rationalise to myself a reason to feel bad. I also have, by another challenge, reasons to feel good. I got up today, I brushed my teeth, I am wearing jeans (human clothes, rather than undignified 'b' -team clothes that my mother insists I wear to ease her ironing duties). I have also moved forward with this counselling situation.  I might go even further and book an appointment with the GP, maybe the Nurse. I can make up a reason, I just want to go and feel human again. I can go on account of my fucked up knee; or I can make some bullshit excuse to talk about my treatment options for depression, as the GP had invited me to discuss (namely, the drugs he prescribed that i did not take). I could also go to ask for some drugs. Drugs might ease the pain of my RSI, and my knee.

Really,  I just want someone to pay atention to me, call me Mr. Conatus, and for me to feel like a person again, not a guy in a primark t-shirt that happens to be in the house when they are really seeing my parents. I'm a non-person, that's exactly what my supervisor called me when I finished my dissertation.