Today (Sunday 27th)

I woke up quite late today, from about 1pm. I played a facebook game, masturbated, got out of bed, masticated, watched star trek and then I decided to go for a jog. It was difficult on my lungs. I chose to go at a faster speed and went a third of the distance.

Upong returning home, I felt a greater sense of motivation. I changed into some new clothes before showering and decided to get some things done before I go away for the week:

1. Recalibrate my shcedule,
2. Get into my schedule (Migraine made me incapable of focusing on the GCal)
3. Put tasks into gcal:

i. Foldering some documents
ii. Putting away rubbish and dry clothes
iii. sorting out clothes (not done yet)
iv. Make a bag for the travel
v. Get a bag for the return (ex wants to get rido f my clothes)


I'm glad that I'm getting stuff done. I feel like my sense of target is dulled, I don't have clear goals but I feel as if I am just coasting, not pushing myself and I don't have my eye on the prize. That must change.

Saturday, 26th September

On this day, i went to see my estranged cousin. I haven't seen her for about 15 years, or more specifically, I have not spoken to her.

She is all grown up and late 20s, she has been married for  few months now. She has married a guy who is essentially a techie geek. We have some things in common although we haven't seen too many of the same anime. I used to be into anime but now I keep busy with other thinsg. Perhaps I shall start another anime some time soon?

I also was blighted by a migraine today. That was quite bad. It took out all the scheduled tasks of the day.

My ex-girlfriend (it will be difficult saying that) asked to bring a big bag so that I can take my stuff back with me. I might take one of my dad's work bags, although that might get his company in trouble if a non-employee is using it.

It is upsetting that my girlfriend is making such actions and gestures, as if to cut me out of her life. I suppose from her point of view it is clearing emotionally and physically my presence.

Losing her is essentially losing my support network. I am without support when I get down, and I am feeling pretty down.

I woke up very late today (on sunday), and I got up slowly. I'll write about that in my next post...

I'm alone again

I'm laying in bed, with my laptop on my chest. But I could easily be in a field, alone, desolate. I want to fire a flare, call on a siren, or just walk slowl, not too fast as to expend all my energy. I walk through a field, alone. I pass various crops and the moonlight provides ample lighting to see forward, but all I see is an endless field; no people, I am alone, again...

I've been de-boyfriendised, I've been dumped, broken up, lost.

I feel very much alone in this desolate field. I feel the cool air but my worries make it difficult to take it in. I am inhaling stale air and I feel as alone as the time when I was in that train station about a year ago, waiting to go home, without a place to stay for my masters and I had missed the train. The battery on my phone was dying, and my MP3 player was running out of juice. I was alone, the only one in the station in nearly complete darkness.

I feel almost a religious need for salvation. I feel an almost divine yearning as a succur for my pain. I have to do things differently. I have to move forward. What do I do? How do I move forward?

I know the pits, I know the old roads of depression. In this field I am left in, with no directions, no knowledge of the area and no map, where do I go? I suppose from now I make my own route, but I'm afraid of ending up where I once was.

Typing with my eyes closed

I think that I will take up a suggestion that I have gotten from someone. Close my eyes and just let my fingers type. I hope just that this is grammatical.

Today I feel a certain heaviness weighing down on me. I feel it is from the realisation that my relationship is basically dead with my girlfriend. I feel a certain kind of heaviness and inner inadequacy. I feel a sense of being alone, isolated, and stuck in a void of which I cannot escape. I decided to carry on with my schedule fotday so far as to do something constructive. I also decided to go for a jog once I had finished all the things that I had shceduled for the day.

I have applied for an internship at this place that related to my work with the ADC, it is a mildly, vaguely academic kind of job but it won't make me have a PhD. I have been thinking through the hours of today and I have felt a big heavy sense of doubt and loss inside me. I feel a sense of giving up, I feel a sense of hopelessnes. i have been trying to fight this sense as much as I could today. I have been jogging, and I pushed myself a little bit further today, although I did not give it my all and run out of steam, as I felt self-conscious in the ghetto gym with all the people around using the machines. Most of the people who go to the ghetto gym normally go in a group.

Upon returning home i decided to piss about for a little while more, then eat, and then I decided to play the piano. I played introspectively, examining the pedagogy and the emotions of the pieces I  have been playing. I have also been playing my old repetoire and I have been improving on my technique as every session passes. I am improving in my technique of piano and in my jogging. I have been actively reading more and listening to more podcasts. I am trying to keep to this system that I have created. in a sense, this system is a culmination of what I originally created during ym 'A' levels. This systmeatic line of thought and resasoning and organisation of my thoughts and actions into this comprehendable and indexically sorted manner gives my life structure even if it does not give it meaning.

I realise that I do not go off on digressions and dig up some kind of emotional significance to it, i have dulled my senses and ina a big sense i have just been struggling to get on with life and have essentially made my life a bit more boring.

It has been a very long time since I have been intensely typing in this manner as I have not been doing exegesis and I have always been careful about how I conduct my grammatical manner and syntax and spelling after my horrible dissertation revlation. As I type I realise that I am a fast typist if I rely on my inner thoughts to guide me. I could just type and type and type and go through all the things in my head, in my psyche as it happens. I Feel that this could be a potential for catharsis as i feel so much heaviness. Having a big 'brain dump' onto the keyboard may help. i'll try to practice this method in later dates and see how it goes.

My wrists are hurting so I'll stop posting for now.

A bit down

This is a month of a lot of memories. I've lived through about 23 septembers in my life, however I think that there are a few that I have not really remembered much, some I've just remembered now (2002, and 2003 especially), but othres which dictate my immediate past.

There was a time about a year ago when I thought to myself: where will I be in a year's time? or two years ago, where I would be in 2008. It's not great. I'ts not the best situation I've ben in, perhaps this is the worst situation in my entire life. However, I must not give air to that kind of thinking as it will only bring me down. In other ways I think that I am quite well. My fitness is getting better, despite the weird fact that my weight is increasing instead of going down or stablising. It is not as if I am snacking more, or if I am, i am not paying much attention to what i eat. Perhaps I should make more note of what I eat. I have a calorie counter on my website profile for the thing I use to monitor my weight.

Anyway. I thought that I would do some writing, I think because I have not posted in a while that really talks about myself.

So this past weekend, I was making a photobook for my sort-of-girlfriend's daughter. She's going to be three years old. I spent a while getting all photos of her in the past 6 month period. She does appear to have grown up a lot. I love her dearly and I think of her constantly.

I was playing the piano on Saturday when my parents were out of the house. I rediscovered my old 'sixth-form' self in the piano. When I play, I enter into memories of when I've practiced. I tend to be very memory-focused and involved when I play the piano. It felt nice to be someone else, someone different, and rediscover a particular aspect of me. Of course, I'm a bit rusty, however, my technique is getting to the level when I was in college, perhaps even better! That is a prospect that I quite enjoy. I am moving forward and not appealing to the old past.

Talk about Rammstein has come up lately; their music video 'Pussy' has come out and a couple of my friends are facebooking constantly about it, and the Rammstein tour. I have a lot of memories about Rammstein. Perhaps I'll wirte about that one day.

I've also been prone to waking up unacceptably late. I've been thinking about whether to set my GCal tasks to start from a later and more reasonable point so as to acknowledge and account for a realistic completion of the tasks I have, on the other hand, I feel a sense of complacency in re-adjusting my schedule insofar that putting the tasks further is bascially an acceptance that I am lazy. I shall try to start early. A thought I had now is that if I go on later in the day with my job applications and tasks, I shall be feel a lot more tired and perhaps sleep earlier and feel like I'm actually having a work day. The other plus would be that I would have gotten more done.

Okay, enough procrastination by blogging. Onwards!

Present for a three yar old

Memories of Marie are coming up lately, although she's not in the forefrong of my mind. Her very presence in my memories, and my life during a difficult time of my life is unwelcome.

I'm buying a present for my girlfriend's daughter, whom I love very much. I'm thinking of getting her a photoalbum, as well as a proper present. While doing so, I'm clearing out and reorganising my Picasa account of photos. I am going through the 2007 file. It was an eventful year in my life, depsite the depression. The next year began 'limbo', which still lasts even to now, despite me making real efforts to get out of it.

So I'm going through picasa at present, and I'm struck by a costume party that I was in during december, and Marie was there. Marie refused have face pictures taken of her, but I see her hair and her head. I am debating inside myself whether to delete this memory of her, or should I keep it for a future time in my life when I will be a different person and have a different response.

I also see Moriarty. I think that I shall delete it..or at least 'clear it up'

Unwilling to change

No, the title does not refer to me.

Often I think about, or laugh at the people I either despise the most, or whom I'm most afraid of turning into. My dad, in some respect, is one of them. My dad is fat, lazy and today it came to a bit of a head. My mother was pointing out how he shuold really make an effort to lose weight; what he then did was act in a defensive way. I decided to get my place into this issue and just told him upfront three things:

1. You are fat
2. Are you willing to change and push yourself? (suggestion, that he was not)
3. If you aren't willing to change and push yourself, what example are you setting to your grandson; what kind of example are you giving to him as to how one should be?

My mum then said to let the issue go. I realised that I said what I could in as most an articulate way as I could, and I took leave. My dad has a habit of drawing me into my most flawed of states. I used to have friends who also did this to me. My dad is a lot like me, or perhaps vice versa; if we could get away with it, we would just let things linger and do nothing about it.

I don't feel that I am entitled to saying things about my character unless I have some kind of evidence to show for it. In that sense, I am as much a hypocrite telling him to lose weight and make a change than anyone else. Sometimes I find the criticisms put to me as the most powerful ones, such that I use them when I think about critiquing other people. It is a limitation of one's thinking to apply one's personal experience immediately to a third-personal generic context.

I find my heart heavy presently. Often in these times I would just pause and mull about things, have internal discussions that I would never remember again and have this delusion that I had gained some inner wisdom. The inner wisdom comes from callouses by real life; not by sitting in a darkened room and staring out of the window.

If I am to admit something it is this: I hate my life. Now that I've said it, I will move forward from here.

Interview post-mortem

Okay, the interview happened. It took about 14 minutes I suspect. The lady interviewing was quite intimidating, formal, and authoritative. I was pushed back and almost forced to be a submissive person to that intimidation. This lady was asking questions that I didn't really know how to answer. I was intimidated and beaten down.

Here are the facts as I see them:

Presentation : I had a high pitched, nervous and faced pace voice
Questioning: I knew about 60% of the questions that the interviewer asked about the industry#
Next stage: There were 50 people who had been interviewed by telephone, The next stage involves 14. That is 36 people cut off the list. That is roughly over a 1/5 modality and chance that I will get through.

Good luck me

The interview for the job that will get me out of this hell that has been the past year

In about 48 minutes I shall have the telephone interview for that really special job if I get it. There is no guarantee that I should get it, because of the job market etc. I have been tasting and sniffing success in it. I have been investing a lot of my emotional energies and projecting realistic visions of how it will turn out. I'll get the job, commute for about 3-4 hours a day on the tube (whilst getting a lot of reading done in the time), do 7-10 hour shifts, get home at 1am, sleep, have trouble in insomniac days, have sickies during november-early march due to flu, and watching the wonga come in while I hopefully make time to jog and have more money to address my inner consumer.

I'm afraid of success. I want to overcome this fear so that I can get ahead in life, even if this is only for a year or two, a job that pays 18k in this recession is fucking awesome. The option is this:

would you rather have a job than be unemployed?

However, the possibility of a job coming in scares me for reasons that would have been poignant pre-recession:

i. Is the pay good enough?
ii. Is this where I want to be for the next 2-3 years?
iii. What about my PhD dreams?

New problems and issues come up:

1. My finances
2. Possibility of a mortgage, pension fund, savings and investments
3. The future...

I cannot acknowledge any kind of future that will be different to now unless i am willing to take a step forward. I want this job to happen, and yet I'm scared of moving forward, I'm scared of getting the calouses that life brings.

Keep calm, and carry on

It's officially autumn

I shouldhave written this post about 5-7 days ago.

The temperature has gone down, it is raining consistently either every day or every other day, it is starting to get dark again, and fashions are beginningto change.

It is quite fun to jog in the rain. I went in my boots the other day and I found it to be quite pleasant; the cool air and the water from the ran hides the fact that my body is heating up and leaking sweat fro underneath my shirt. I feel like my body is starting to look different in theweek that I have been working out I oticed hat performing a situp takes more effort, although less pain andphysical labour to perform. I noticed that my reluctance is from my memory of how much it had hurt.  I must overcome my instincts and bad habits in order to overcome my mind and become a new and better body.

Memories without triggers

As you may very well know, I've been sending off for applications for jobs, internships, charity and voluntary work, and various freebie things ( HC2 exemption form and benefits)

Often when I am on this binge of applying for jobs, i am asked to provide information which may be on my CV already, or more specific things about my past. Such as being in the ADC and my role there. Thinking about the ADC and other things that upset me about that time. I feel like I have realised a few things about myself that I do not like. I hate how my body language and nervous tics make my true feelings apparent. I find nervousness and shame and embarrassment hard to deal with.

I remember when I was a child, when I went to, in my first year; there was a summer fayre towards the middle of july. There was a fancy dress competition and I realised this around the day before the fayre. What happened was that I took an interest in having a costume. I wanted to go as 'Bill and Ted' from the film that I saw. I wanted to dress like a cool dude, with the floppy hair and the rock music teenager look. I thought that it was cool, and that I would think highly of myself if I dressed in that way.

I attempted to communictate this intention of going into the fancy dress competition. My parents made me wear some lame-ass jeans that had some child like motif o make it obvious that I was abuot 5 years old and not the sexy man from the diet coke adverts. i didn't wear jeans very much for many years to come and I considered that they were the epitome of cool, I later thought that tracksuits and sports gear (read: Chav) were cool but that was in a different fashion era to now.

I think that I had a denim jacket as well, I thought that was really cool, having jeans was cool, but having denims was majorly cool. What really made my outfit 'cool' was a baseball cap, which the design of which I have no memory of now, but I recall it had some childhood corporate symbol on it.

I walked into the playground of the school on a weekend (unfamiliar territory for me). As I entered the playground I suddenly came to realise that the fancy dress procession had started, I went there thinking I would go into the fancy dress competition and win and put all the others in awe of my great costume. I went there intead, finding that the procession had not only started, but I was not in it, my parents had no intention of entering me into it, I had no Idea how to get into the competition, and my parents didn't really care either way if I got in or not, or even acknowledged that I wanted to go.

When I think about this memory, I realise my complete obliviousness to how reality works; my oblivious to the PhD application, I just automatically assumed that I would get in, that there was no grade issues about it, and that it would all sort itself out because I know that I am worthy otf it. The truth is this: I wasn't worthy of it, my grades didn't merit it, I was too busy chasing a stupid brooding gothinc girl with shallow intellectual credentials and I failed even before I stared. I realise now as I did then, that I never had a chance in the first place. I could blame the people around me like my parents who took no appreciation of my wish to get into the competition, or to help me out with it; but really its my own lack of appreciation of the underlying frameworks in which competitions and competitiveness occurs. Competition is fierce and I need to be able to beat the others and be better than them in order to move forward.

What often takes place is that I have a self-realisation within me that I was never good enough in the first place, that I had no chance and that I was an outsider who hopelessly and unsuccessfully tries to fit in.

I also realise that I can't go jogging again today as some kind of emotional catharsis on account that my legs need time to heal and I need to take care of my body to effectively excercise.

Note to self

I got up very late. I have a task from my mum to vacuum the upper house. I shall do that as soon as my dad stops pissing about on the guitar. Further to that, I think I shall go for a jog instead of sitting and waiting. If I get a jog done today, then I  can have a shower (which I feel is duly needed) while having my excercise done, and feeling a sense of achievement despite getting up so late.

Note to self: Drinking alcohol at night helps dull one's nerves and responses, but does not put me to sleep. While it does not help me sleep, it certainly does not help me wake up.

Link :How not to fail at life

I found this particularly relevant to me. It says everything I needed to hear, and half that I already knew.

It's brilliant as it is insulting and funny. I hate goths from now on. Fucking wasters

Bene-fucked

I have returned from the job centre. There are so many reasons that I feel aggrivated and low:

1. I missed the train by one minute, if I didn't go for that piss, I would have gotten the train. It was my fault that I missed the train.

2. I decided to go to this cowboy asian minicab establishment. They clearly overcharged me, as the controller told me a price, that I later told the driver, going into his car. The driver then laughed and said something in his native language accompanied by "seven-fifty". I felt a bit of ridicule, I had no choice but to accept this condition.

3. Further to this, I sat in the horrible benefit office I waited unnecessarily for ages as I did not know how to 'sign in'. I just had to give a document to the woman on the desk and wait to be called. I was just waiting to be called with no one to call for me.

4. The woman on the desk then told me that I was entitled to '0.00' weekly benefit. This was slightly frightening, considering that I am going through this humiliating process of self-mortification for not only 'nothing', but at the loss of my dignity and seven pounds fifty. I have no incoming money and I feel pretty shit, having basically no money.

5. I had a cry on the train station platform, I was trying to hold back my tears. I was listening to a song, Coil by Opeth. It is particularly emotive

Must try to be positive. I feel a strong urge to hide away in my bed

Opeth Coil TV4 w Nathalie Lorichs (HD version)

For a lazy day, I've got quite a bit done in it.

Today, after waking up quite late, I have recieved an offer for an interview. I have been offered an interview for a job making subtitles on films and tv. It's a job that involves heavy touch-typing. I saw a document that lists the amount of time involved for the labour. It is shift work and involves long hours.

it is scary. It is scary of the prospect of having a job. In a sense, after all this time looking for a job, this is one that I wuoldn't hate doing, however, I feel in some way scared of it. I feel afraid that I will succeed and my job will work out. The job pays 18.5k with a possible pay rise (after experience) to 24k. All of this money talk does appeal to me, however it still does frighten me regarding how much time I will spend at the job.

I feel scared of getting a job, acknowledging that I'm 23 and I'm nto getting younger. I'm scared of waking up one day, being late 20s or early 30s, and not being where I want to be in life and being absolutely stuck and bored and dull and lifeless.

However, perhaps that's the most I can look forward to in my life.

Today is also the day I sign in to the job centre. I've not recieved any benefits money, despite applying, for it and the job centre stuff benig sorted out. Perhaps it takes 28 days or so to sort out. I hope to get the backlog monies. My mum has cut off my money, so I'm a bit scared regarding money. Perhaps if I earned proper money, I could live on my own and be independent.

Coconut milk

This might not make much sense, if any.

I love coconut milk. I love its taste, its fattiness, the bits of coconut flesh inside, and most of all, something that it symbolises, some kind of purity, perfection. It touches me deeply, I feel like, I want to be coconut milk. The cream of the crop, some kind of symbol of milk, and coconuts.

Anyway, I was thinking about this when I came back from my jog. That's right, I had my first jog in about 2 months. I have been jogging with my leg brace thingy on, and I've also been doing some situps and leg excercises. I didn't overdo it, I stopped before I really tore up myself, but I did inflict some pain, and I learned to jog at a pace where I can go far, albeit at a slower speed, but it makes me feel continuously the burn inside my lungs. Upon doing the situps, I felt this burn, this sense of shame, shame about my belly. The other ghetto boys were doing some tough guy excercises, and I tried to just phase them out, get on with my workout and not worry what they might think of me. In order to have a nice looking body, I have to start somewhere. Awkward and painful situps was where it started. Bring on the pain, hope for the abs to come through.

Deus Sex Machina.

Finally, things actually feel like work!

I went for my 'first day of work' with the voluntary charity work. I felt for brief moments in my 4-5 hours there, that I was genuinely making a difference.

Upon going home, I realised all the things I've got to do. I need to be in the mindset of deadlines and actual work. I need to be ready for when the day comes when I get an offer for work. My plans seem to be assuming, and in my own psyche, I am assuming that work isn't going to come. I need to be open for it in my mind.

I've got another GCal block at the moment. I've not been able to reschedule the tasks I had set in the 5 days I was gone from visiting the girlfriend. I thought I was going to lose her this weekend. In a sense I wish I did, I already set myself up for it after she talked to me, and then the day after she was all lovey-duvey and we had sex again.

Bizarre moments of antiquated social relations

I was at McDonalds and while being served; one of the waiting staff asked:

"How can I help you Master?"

The man was black. I felt immensely uncomfortable about this.Part of me laughed, another part of me thought. What the fuck?

Like a fatty artery...

I'm stuck.

My weight is not changing, it is sticking at a consistent 216.8. I've not been excercising. I have set an arbitrary date of the 15th September (I still think it's july in my head for some reason). I'm really out of shape. I'm very overweight on the BMI Scale (30). My target of 175 lbs must be achieved. I was expecting to reach it by now, but now I am estimated another year (considering mild changes).

The bulimia saga didn't really help with anything, the masters situation did not help either.

I'm going to see my girlfriend today. On the train, and I hope things will work out well; she's not in a good way with me these days since moving out.

In other news: I find travelling on the underground very draining. I think its a great way to get tired, go to sleep, and use up a bit of energy.

Here's to hoping.

The way that my girlfriend treats me is upsetting. I made her a photobook for her birthday, she didn't like it. She is making me feel guilty about it.

I don't think that I deserve to be treated in this way.

By the way she treats me, it brings me down. At a time like this, when I'm unemployed, living with my parents, and barely in any financial situation to be independent; I do not need at all a negative influence. I have enough in my life to upset me, that I'm trying to overcome. I could try to ignore her and let it slide, or I could adapt and counter it (or I could just end it).

I'm hurt, upset. I am inclined towards going into my bed, laying down, and thinking about how down and dreary I am. I can make an excuse that because it is the night, and I've been on my feet all day, that I could cry the night away, that I coule hide away for just one night.

I don't want to. I'm sitting on my home-made compromise desk, staring in front of this computer, typing these words. I think that some kind of expression of my current feelings will ease my situation. I feel the finger movements, the clack-clack sound of the keyboard's keys being hit make a difference, easing my mood.

I think that I shall busy myself tonight, at least to get some practical things done. My girlfriend is constantly complaining about that bloody photobook. It would be best if she just let it go. I know how she feels, why does she have to affirm it all the time. I already know what she thinks of it. I wish she would use some wisdom, and compassion, to allow me a finite amount of shame for the present.

My plan for the rest of the night:

1. Sort out GCal Block for the next few days
2. Have a bath.
3. Set clothes away for possible re-use tomorrow.
4. Possibly write more blog stuff as catharsis.
5. Go to sleep while audiobook plays in the background.

The day's events

Today, a lot happened. Inside, a lot of feelings were played through, and my esteem on one hand has been raised, on the other, my esteem has gone down. But with both effects, I feel like I have a more realisitic grip on reality, in addition, I feel I have a better grip on how to sort out my life. I just hope it works.

I feel as if my ideals of meritocracy have not met reality. The reality is, people get jobs, and many do not; there are more people than jobs, and although there are many people who are able and willing and quite good, they end up on the dole, with a lower self-esteem and aspiration.

I went to a recruitment consultancy today. I went as a condition, or suggestion, from my job centre. It was a london firm, professional, and all of the girls were quite sexy, young, and friendly. They were the archetypal noughties office, friendly, sexy, a bit kinky (probably, one of the girls had these very sexy sandals on, showing very pretty feet, as well as an eloquent tattoo on the side).

Everyone in the workshop was from the job centre. The consultant who gave us advice, was a very interesting person. The fellow was mature, yet 'cool'. Probably childless, probably unmarried, probably stuck in a 30s macho mindset. I don't often venture into the city. All of those corporate types, in their suits and posh clothes intimidate me. It exhibits a kind of middle class sentiment and ideal that people like me were fed to aspire to, but have probably been snatched from realising.

The man in the consultancy (I shall call him Giles, because that seems like a city slicker kind of name) was honest. The facts as we know very well are evident. There aren't many jobs about, and what we really want to do in life is probably going to have to wait until the real capital of the world (the kind in your bank account) pays the bills, improves one's life situation and self esteem.

The credit crunch has made me more aware of money, it has made me weary of it, and yet desiring of it. I want money. I want it really badly. I am changing in a lot of ways. I want it really bad. Money won't buy me happiness, but it will eliminate the unhappiness of now.

The other people that were there were:

i. Male, asian, engineer, polytechnic graduate 2009 summer
ii. Male, black, environmental science, polytechnic 2009 summer
iii. Male, eastern european, wants to work in admin, or any job that gives money, until he can start a business. What business? He doesn't know: it's clear that his goals are too vague to be realised
iv. Male, white, cockney, mickey mouse degree from mickey mouse university. Wants to do sports journalism. Experience with intern, besides that, no experience
v. Female, black, acturarial degree from polytechnic, she's got a nice qualification, but her english isn't great, she didn't answer the competency test question quick enough; and she didn't seem on the ball enough to succeed.

All of them were sub-par graduates, but I am not perfect either: Here is my profile:

vi. Male, asian + disability, russell group arts degree postgraduate + undergraduate in social science/arts combo, unemployed for a year, looking for jobs.

I felt a bit good that I wasn't on my own. I felt a bit good that I felt superior to them, too. I was the older dog, perhaps old enough to be shot in the head and put to sleep (my flaw), but I was a bit experienced and worn down, yet, I knew a bit about how to survive. This meeting was by no means useless, I learned a lot.

One of the fellows asked: I want to use my degree for my ideal job, but won't it go 'stale' after a while?

My response: Keep it fresh. It sounded a bit urban and slangy as a neat slogan. My point was, use your own interest (if it's genuine) to pursue the subject. In environmentalism, or sports, follow the season (pun). Keep up with the literature, current affairs, and any grassroots stuff going on.

I've got to think over about the events of today.

The negative thing I mention, is that my mum's input of money will stop. Which is fair, I cannot rely on her handouts. It's been 4 years now.

conceptualising depression

I wanted to write a blog post, mainly for the sake of doing some 'writing' on my part, to conceptualise and distinguish, in my own mind, the difference between my actual thoguths and experiences from a process, so as to take away the power of that process of depression and what it has on me.

If I externalise this problem, I may have a chance of overcoming it before it takes me. I would like to diagnose problems, and solutions that may follow when applied to myself

Symptoms

The symptoms of depression that apply to myself are as follows:

i. Feeling of lack of motivation: not wanting to do anything
ii. Everything slows down and becomes an effort
iii. Disappointment, sense of failure

Strategy

i. set yourself definitive tasks, feel a sense of achievement at the end of the day.
ii. 'Do what you can' - Maggie, my first counsellor, taught me that.

2 years

Today I got up, at first, by my own instinct. I somtimes have a natural tendency to wake up by myself early, although normally, as in this case, I go back to sleep. Often I contemplate the option, seriously to stay up from the point that I get up and I can get more done and feel a greater sense of achievement, and a better sense of self esteem. I got back to bed, however. I quickly got up again, as the alarm on my phone went off. I lazed about a bit longer, getting back into the bed, laying there pretending to be awake. I then realised the point at which I could not possibly stay in bed any longer, so I had a shave, masturbated, and then put my clothes on. I responded to orgasm very quickly. I feel like masturbation is heartless and overly 'rational', when quick, however, it is not some act of self-love, and it is better than having a long one that takes away my time.

I put on my clothes. I was quite excited to put on my new base layer, it was cooler, being smaller, and more like a T-shirt. I noticed how thin it made me look, the deception of having lost a lot of weight was lost when I had some trouble in attempting to locate some trousers that had fitted. I got up early because I had an appointment with the doctor. I hurredly found a suitable pair of trousers that I wasn't 'too fat' for, and went off to the surgery. I later realised that the appointment was tomorrow, but I would never say that waking up early would be in vain.

I have an interview later for the volunteer role. I ought to plan my route and leave in good time to get there early. Maybe I'll get a job application or two under my belt before then. I'm just getting on, without too much thinking or feeling. I know that all that feeling stuff is hurtful and I know the patterns and 'tricks' my mind makes to depress me. I have all sorts of reasons to be depressed, but I need everything, all my resources and emotions and efforts to find a job.

I have trouble visualising the future. I feel like, my PhD dreams are as far away as they have ever been, and limbo has made me accustomed to the daily slog of being nothing and doing nothing. The social stigma of being unemployed and the lack of self-esteem I have. I think the onyl thing I'm looking forward to is the money that will come from my benefits, if the backdated order comes through. I'll buy a bike, and a new laptop, both of which I need. I feel like consumerism is my opiate. Having money and going into a shop, buying things, is my only respite and source of self-worth.

I might look if there are any psychotherapists about that don't charge (too much). That is the morning I have had; that is my zeitgeist.

According to my records. It is the two year anniversary to the day when I started purging, I stopped about a year (or 13 months) later. I spent a bit of effort in writing this post because I wanted to give a snapshot of my life now, and how things are different. I used to live in my memories, now I want to move from the things I lived through.

unpleasant surprise

I went downstairs to get a midnight snack, post midnight, whatever.

As I went down to the kitchen, I thought it weird that my dad left 'raisins' on the table, i had a coke zero, then on my way up, I saw another nasty raisin on the couch, I had half a mind to eat it. I then looked closer. That's no raisin......ITS RAT SHIT!!!!!!

I feel quite sickened inside. My parents never want to call for an exterminator, they are quite tight in a lot of respects, always suspicious and financially tight, yet hypocritcial when they want to be on the latter issue. I HATE knowing that there is a rodent pest downstairs, it makes me feel less secure and it makes me feel unsafe in my own home. That's why I hated the student flat I was in last year (that i recently moved out of)u