My mum notified me that I have another letter. It's the offer letter. How redundant. I receive an offer letter at the same day that I recieve the same rejection letter. I guess I could try to be positive. I got a PhD offer, yay!
For three days I lived in hope. Now, I dont have that hope. I know I got rejected. Okay. It's done. I've said it, I've released that specific hope and intention. I suppose I could say, I suppose I should say, as Antonia would have said; I can now fly on to other things now that I am free.
Do you know what I really want to do? I want to cry and then put my fingers down my throat in some kind of symbolic desperation as I frustratedly seek release. I have been released. It's just not the world I wanted to be into.
What a birthday present. Rejection. What's next, cancer? I wish I had a break.
This is a sign, I'm not going to stop purging. I've opened pandora's box and I'm going to put my fingers down it until the only thing left is hope. Maybe pandora will make me skinny. That's the hope. Oh, I also got a letter to postpone my eye hospital appointment. I wish I was attractive and had a girlfriend. That's the shallow kind of validation most normal people find appropriate. I'm crying right now. Inside, I am not sure how I really feel. There's a part of me that says: please keep going, man. Please keep going. You have plenty of things to do. It's a kind, sweet, supporting voice. A voice that says to me that I have a busy set of tasks that I can still fill my life with. I can still have a full and busy life despite all that has happened. The wait is over, I know. I was kind of expecting a rejection; but then I had that little branch of hope and then it got taken away again so quickly. Three days of bliss and hope, just to remind me of what I could be.
Now I'm left with what I am. I have options now.
1. Continue with being a good boy and apply for jobs, do the internship, spend time at the police station and then maybe I'll be thin. Happy? Who knows, probably not. I'd rather be productive and self hating than just self hating. I hate myself already.
2. There's productive and self hating (explored above), or there's self hate that's so strong that I become powerless to help myself. Maybe I could spend a few days in a mental hospital. Would that be good? I'd like that. Day patient or something. I don't know. I feel really,hopelessly upset. I tried the mental health option. I am asking for help
Will someone help me?
Can someone help me?
I need help. Please make it better. Make it go away. Please make it go away.
My challenge for today is go about my day without showing how I really feel. Maybe thats the only power I have. Going about the day, the days; the weeks, without showing how I really feel. Perhaps that disconnect of having these feelings for real, and pretending to be someoen else is my only hope of control. In short, it means going back to mia. Mia is my little secret. I'm going to keep her, and no one will know. I need to keep it secret cos its the only thing I have. I only have my secrets left. I have lost face. The only power I have is to not give myself away. Maybe I can take embarrassment passively. I need, to purge. I'm going to do it when my dad goes to work (hopefully today if he will), and when my mum goes out to drop my nephew home.
I'm 24. I have no job. No girlfriend, no money. and now hope. I have a masters degree and my dream was to get a PhD. I've lost that dream's chance of being real. Now all I have is the girl who destroys me. At least she'll make me pretty. There's a little whispering voice inside me, I've been hearing it since yesterday. I want to do more than self harm. I want to end it. It's just a little voice, though.
I had this big playlist when my girlfriend broke up with me. All I could do was hold on to it. listen to it until it went out. I feel frozen in this feeling. AC/DC is playing on and on. I hate this kind of rock music. I am just listening to it, holding on and hoping that this feeling, like a candle filled with hatred; will slowly extinguish and disappear. That's all I want to do now; burn metaphorical candles until they have used themselves up and have turned into nothing but vapour and an ashy wick.
This post is my only friend right now. I have no one else to talk to. I have no friends that I can talk like this to. I have mia, she's nice, but she's not everything.
Hide in your head. Burn the candle. That's all I can do now. Burn the candle. Antonia called this feeling the 'dark night of the soul', but I object to that expression for a variety of reasons; one being that St. John of the Cross certainly would not have considered a sinking feeilng of rejection and divine rejection and the emptiness of sin to have been encapsulated by his phrase.
Sinking is a nice word.
I want to assure you, and I tyep this as my eyes well up with tears. That I'm not a bad guy, I'm not a bad guy, I'm not terribly flawed, and I try hard to be a good person. But I need mia. I need her more than you can ever help me. You aren't helping me anyway. My ex isn't here for me, my friends aren't. NO ONE IS FUCKING HERE FOR ME!!!
DON'T YOU DARE JUDGE ME. I'm so desperate and this controlled act of purging and self hatred while I pretend that I'm a different person is the only relief I have. Its the only escape I have. It's the only way I can let out this feeling of disappointment. I keep asking myself if I deserve this...I don't know
maybe I do. everyone else is successful. even the loser guy in my group who got two Es in 'AS levels' is doing a PhD in astrophysics.
why is this happening to me. what did I do to make this happen? why is everything subject to the decisions of other people? Why can't have I make my own luck, my own chances? GIVE ME A CHANGE. Give me a chance. I'm falling apart and held together only by the lie. Mia doesn't love me, but I need her. I better stop writing this blog post and get on with my day. Like that say in counselling, we've run out of time for this week.
For three days I lived in hope. Now, I dont have that hope. I know I got rejected. Okay. It's done. I've said it, I've released that specific hope and intention. I suppose I could say, I suppose I should say, as Antonia would have said; I can now fly on to other things now that I am free.
Do you know what I really want to do? I want to cry and then put my fingers down my throat in some kind of symbolic desperation as I frustratedly seek release. I have been released. It's just not the world I wanted to be into.
What a birthday present. Rejection. What's next, cancer? I wish I had a break.
This is a sign, I'm not going to stop purging. I've opened pandora's box and I'm going to put my fingers down it until the only thing left is hope. Maybe pandora will make me skinny. That's the hope. Oh, I also got a letter to postpone my eye hospital appointment. I wish I was attractive and had a girlfriend. That's the shallow kind of validation most normal people find appropriate. I'm crying right now. Inside, I am not sure how I really feel. There's a part of me that says: please keep going, man. Please keep going. You have plenty of things to do. It's a kind, sweet, supporting voice. A voice that says to me that I have a busy set of tasks that I can still fill my life with. I can still have a full and busy life despite all that has happened. The wait is over, I know. I was kind of expecting a rejection; but then I had that little branch of hope and then it got taken away again so quickly. Three days of bliss and hope, just to remind me of what I could be.
Now I'm left with what I am. I have options now.
1. Continue with being a good boy and apply for jobs, do the internship, spend time at the police station and then maybe I'll be thin. Happy? Who knows, probably not. I'd rather be productive and self hating than just self hating. I hate myself already.
2. There's productive and self hating (explored above), or there's self hate that's so strong that I become powerless to help myself. Maybe I could spend a few days in a mental hospital. Would that be good? I'd like that. Day patient or something. I don't know. I feel really,hopelessly upset. I tried the mental health option. I am asking for help
Will someone help me?
Can someone help me?
I need help. Please make it better. Make it go away. Please make it go away.
My challenge for today is go about my day without showing how I really feel. Maybe thats the only power I have. Going about the day, the days; the weeks, without showing how I really feel. Perhaps that disconnect of having these feelings for real, and pretending to be someoen else is my only hope of control. In short, it means going back to mia. Mia is my little secret. I'm going to keep her, and no one will know. I need to keep it secret cos its the only thing I have. I only have my secrets left. I have lost face. The only power I have is to not give myself away. Maybe I can take embarrassment passively. I need, to purge. I'm going to do it when my dad goes to work (hopefully today if he will), and when my mum goes out to drop my nephew home.
I'm 24. I have no job. No girlfriend, no money. and now hope. I have a masters degree and my dream was to get a PhD. I've lost that dream's chance of being real. Now all I have is the girl who destroys me. At least she'll make me pretty. There's a little whispering voice inside me, I've been hearing it since yesterday. I want to do more than self harm. I want to end it. It's just a little voice, though.
I had this big playlist when my girlfriend broke up with me. All I could do was hold on to it. listen to it until it went out. I feel frozen in this feeling. AC/DC is playing on and on. I hate this kind of rock music. I am just listening to it, holding on and hoping that this feeling, like a candle filled with hatred; will slowly extinguish and disappear. That's all I want to do now; burn metaphorical candles until they have used themselves up and have turned into nothing but vapour and an ashy wick.
This post is my only friend right now. I have no one else to talk to. I have no friends that I can talk like this to. I have mia, she's nice, but she's not everything.
Hide in your head. Burn the candle. That's all I can do now. Burn the candle. Antonia called this feeling the 'dark night of the soul', but I object to that expression for a variety of reasons; one being that St. John of the Cross certainly would not have considered a sinking feeilng of rejection and divine rejection and the emptiness of sin to have been encapsulated by his phrase.
Sinking is a nice word.
I want to assure you, and I tyep this as my eyes well up with tears. That I'm not a bad guy, I'm not a bad guy, I'm not terribly flawed, and I try hard to be a good person. But I need mia. I need her more than you can ever help me. You aren't helping me anyway. My ex isn't here for me, my friends aren't. NO ONE IS FUCKING HERE FOR ME!!!
DON'T YOU DARE JUDGE ME. I'm so desperate and this controlled act of purging and self hatred while I pretend that I'm a different person is the only relief I have. Its the only escape I have. It's the only way I can let out this feeling of disappointment. I keep asking myself if I deserve this...I don't know
maybe I do. everyone else is successful. even the loser guy in my group who got two Es in 'AS levels' is doing a PhD in astrophysics.
why is this happening to me. what did I do to make this happen? why is everything subject to the decisions of other people? Why can't have I make my own luck, my own chances? GIVE ME A CHANGE. Give me a chance. I'm falling apart and held together only by the lie. Mia doesn't love me, but I need her. I better stop writing this blog post and get on with my day. Like that say in counselling, we've run out of time for this week.
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