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...
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...
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