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.

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.

Punctuality

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.

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.

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.

"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

Positives:

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.

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.

Bastards.

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.

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.

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

Purged

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.

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.

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.

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.

Card shop

I went out to the card shop today. It is a number of notable birthdays this month, so I had decided to get some cards, and go outside for a walk. The last thought in my head was reluctance on account of my injury yesterday. My reluctance was based upon my accidie instead. I managed to go out and walk to the card shop. I had observed that there are a lot of gendered cards. I am not close to my sister, and I am not in a position to make jokes with my dad, being entirely dependent on his money and house and food. I had found cards that do not express too much sentiment that I am likely to give. I decided to give a card of simple sentiment. I don't say 'I love you' to my sister, I've been somewhat physically and emotionally distant to her. My sister and I used to be really close, but that was a very long time ago. I was a ten year old who used to knock on her door, her ideosyncratic response was "entree".

My sister used to inhabit a very small room, it was probably quite oppressive, as I felt oppressed living in that room a decade later. I should now scrawl on the cards and dish them out for birthday purposes. I feel that my motivation is very poor today. I can say that I have done a few things today, but I feel like it isn't enough. I shall continue to strive for today.

...as mud

Moving forward is a bit difficult when you choose to struggle with the present.

I have a lot of things to dwell on, lots of things that I can say that upset me and that push me into a depressed state of mind.

What is important, however, is to move forward, move to the future and immerse myself in the future that I am building for myself. I have felt myself reluctant to move with my schedule this week. I attribute this to the task I have set for myself last week, I have been ripping CDs into my Dad's new hard disk drive. It has been a lot of effot and some agitation.  It has been an agitation because my dad was supposed to do this task but seems to make excuses or be terribly defensive if I take up the point that he is not doing it and is wasting time. My dad replies that it is not an important task and there is no rush. My reply is; you could have done it over the past three weeks when I have been reminding you, but you have just lazed about doing things on a whim instead of planning tasks and getting things done systematically and in an ordered fashion. My parents and their flaws are so aggrivating that I feel inclined to just give up complaining and pointing out their flaws, I think that I have already reached that stage. I am powerless financially to criticise them. They say how they paid through my university fees and my living fees and I have no right to criticise them. Not even if the point is valid, they would say.

There is a saying that goes something ilke: take the log out of your own eye before noticing the flaws of others. It is biblical, I suspect. I need to focus on my own flaws, and I have a lot of them; here's a list:

1. I am a giver-upper
2. I didn't fight hard enough for my relationship
3. I am slothful
4. I don't push myself hard enough
5. I am too complacent with this limbo that I am living in.
6. I am not envisaging the future that I want.
7. I am not where I want to be
8. I have disappointed myself
9. I am fat
10. I injured my leg
11. I am not confident and assertive enough
12. i fucked up my masters degree
13. I am 23 and wasting my life
14. I have jealousy and envy and hate, and yet i find it difficult to face myself and improve who I am, find it difficult to make things right.

I will make things right, undo the mistakes that have ruined my past two years. I will move forward and become a new person, I will make it all better and improve this situation. It will all be resolved when i use the strength of my will and demonstrate my strengths and realise that I am in control of my destiny and I can make it all right for myself.