Aenedae Magnanimity

[intended to post 4 hours ago]

Good Afternoon.

I have come back this afternoon from meeting up with Antonia and her daughter. Antonia's daughter has grown up quite a bit and she looks adorable. Antonia was trying to get inside my head but I did not let her. I think I can have the minor satisfaction that her control techniques failed. But it does remind me that I am alone, and for all her teasing and taunting, there is the hope and promise I find of being close to her and letting her in my head again.

In a parallel story, I feel control when I control what I (don't) eat. These past few days I have resisted food, or rather; eaten with a limited diet. I am 224lbs today (even before I had a poop, and my 2nd wee). This is a good sign; although I do feel it is too good to be true. I have already achieved my weight target for the next week's goal; and I reset next week's goal to 224, now that I've reached it; does that mean I'll have to set next week's goal at 223? Don't get me wrong, I do like that I've lost weight, but I know from experience that losing too much weight means I'll gain it just as quickly. On the other hand, after seeing Antonia today, the feelings I felt; the uncomfortable reality that she was once the love of my life and that I lost her; gives me pain. I feel like giving into mia (or whatever I might call this 'not eating' habit) gives me power.

Giving into this destruction, gives me the validation I seek. Giving into the destrcution gives me the strength to face what I am scared of facing. Antonia asked about my PhD applications, she knew that it was a sensitive topic (especially since I got rejected from Ghent). I hate how she's trying to get into my head. I hate that I gave so much of myself to her. I don't want to give away anything emotionally. Giving too much away means they understand you, and that gives them power over me. Real autonomy comes from deception. Lying with your face,machiavellian control over yourself in order to control overs. Master one's own body, one's heart.

Right now my heart feels like its pumping on overdrive. When I look at her face I feel a loss of interest in all females and anyone for romantic intimacy. Perhaps this feeling is some kind of disappointment, some kind of burrowing inside myself. Perhaps a loss of interest is a sign of depression. Does it depress me to see her again? I feel a little down. I'm not sure how I feel. It pains me to realise that she was one of my great regrets in life; that I didn't stay with her and live with her.

I want to purge right now. More than anything. Mia's validation seems to be the only accessible form of success. When I was 18 I thought about great characters of literature, in particular, Aeneas. I thought of Aeneas as the great hero. What would Aeneas do to cope with such emotional turmoil? Well, Aeneas would cry a lot and curse the Gods. Hmm, perhaps that's not a good archetype. Maybe Aeneas after he sees his father in the underworld, and knowing his destiny. When Aeneas came to know his greatness, he had closure over the loss of Pergamum; over leaving Dido (parallels particularly apt here) and gave up his past to accept and embrace a new, but difficult future. Perhaps I can be a little more like that Aeneas. I need to let go of the past. My ex kept trying to make me compliment her but I was having none of that; she then said something to the effect of: 'If you aren't interested in what I'm wearing then it suggests that you are not interested in me as a person anymore'. That really captured how she tries to get to me. I loved her.

Now I need to get on with what pitiful life I have in the rubble of my own undoing. I'm still trying to rebuild things. Trying to get out of unemployment; trying to earn a living. Perhaps the realisation I'm avoiding is the futility of life itself. I am crying a little bit at the moment. Meeting her has upset me, as it has also reminded me of my failures not relating to her. I'm trying to build my life and in doing so I've had to get over feeling depressed (what I'm feeling now), and get over my issues of motivation; which is a constant battle. I've been really good for the past 2-3 weeks with my schedule. It's only been these past 4 days that I've had to put things off, and that's because of 1. Tutoring on Thursday, 2. Feelign tired on Friday. and 3. Unexpected online tutoring on Friday. I allowed myself a day off yesterday, but I cannot justify it with good works as I can for Thursday and Friday.

I don't know what I'm going to do for the rest of today. I feel like crying and hiding away. I don't think that's the best idea. My head feels tired, as does my chest. I am also a bit teary. Perhaps I'll carry on with my pointless futile (life) schedule. My schedule consists of looking for jobs and applying to them, and if I do that constantly, I'll get an interview once a month. What kind of fucked up life is that. It's my life and I can't trade in. I must make do with what I have. Perhaps if I exploited a bit of heroism within myself, I might survive this difficult patch that is today. Be a Hero, man; and you'll pull through.

Did I just make £60 in 24 hours?

I've finished an online tutoring session. The girl was very, um, how can I say: suicidal? I tried to calm her down as much as is appropriate for a £16 an hour tutor in an online tuition session, but I think I did help her. I knew in the first 5 minutes what I was going to achieve, it took me 2 hours to just say to her 'aah don't cry!'. But hey, she's paying.

I'm a bit behind on my schedule. Notably because I'm tired from yesterday's walking, and I'm tired from tutoring now and that took about 3 hours. 1hr planning and 2hr tuition. This feels like such an unproductive day, despite the fact that I made more money in two days then I have probably in my whole life. God that sounds depressing. I'll say this though. when I am thin I'll advertise myself as a sexy escort and maybe I'll make more money that way. Hopefully, maybe I can pay my way through a PhD? I could be Beau de jour, except not successful, or smart, or as literarily apt at wordsmithery.

I feel really beat. My mum said something that upset me and i'm not going to let it get to me. I should be glad that I earned some cash. With luck, the letter that I sent off to the HR last week will have been recieved by them; as well as the bank details form and the terms of engagement I sent to them. I was *hoping* it would be all ironed out by now, but I suppose administration can be slow in a big organisation with a HR function. That's why they have HR cos there are so many people, I guess. I don't know shit about HR. I have an interview with a HR person next week for a HR job. Wtf is all this HR talk all of the sudden?

At the moment I seem to be juggling so many things in my head right now:

• New tutee (and booking next possible tuition date)
• Interning - I'm behind with work
• Job offer I got 3 or so weeks ago
  
• Money for counselling - I think I'm sorted for 2 weeks.
  
• Losing weight
• Ex visiting this weekend
• Halloween celebrations with friend
• Rachmaninov on thursday
• My bloody schedule that is getting filled with all the above (which are good things) but it means I'm getting pressed for time

I've done a lot this week, I think that much is certain. With all the social visits planned, I may consider just cancelling all the tasks for saturday/sunday. I am, however, trying to hold the fort. I was good this week with all the catching up, but today I'm a bit short of energy. Ugh. I might take a break forcibly. Why is it that I feel a bit giddy and down just on the cusp of things getting good: I made some money, and I did loads this week. I owe it to myself. 

The more I do, the More I have yet to do

From Today's episode of Dilbert.

I thought this particularly relevant. Yesterday was a busy day. Perhaps one of the busiest days I've had since the funeral of my neighbour. I got up at a relatively modest 8:30, I was awake/conscious around 7:30 anyway, but I was lazy and cold not to get out of bed. After preparing for the day, as I knew it would be a long one; I only forgot one thing in packing my bag: my book chair! That's small change really.

I got on the train as per usual, I kept up with my reading although not by much. It was a highly entertaining read as I was travelling most of today. As I got into the office, the cute Swedish lady in the other organisation which shares the floor (of the much more important and influential organisation) was making some small talk with me, and asked if I'd join in with a workshop that they were holding with an eminent professor of Religious Studies. It was really interesting, despite the fact that it meant I was behind 2 hours of work. I did 3/5 of my tasks anyway. I found the talk really insightful. Afterwards I met with the other Intern who was really nice, and I went for an extended lunch break. I was wearing my shemagh today, and I untied my hair. I felt so glamorous and pretty as the wind made my hair float a bit.

After 'finishing' ''work'' (so many things in scarequotes, even my 'job' is a scarequote); I went to the tutee's house. It took a while, I missed the train and it took ages to go on the tram. The tutee lived in an area that I have not only heard of, but never would have visited unless I had to. I think it was technically Greater London; but that's a bit of a stretch. Like saying Twickenham is Greater London. Tutoring was quite good. I really got a lot out of it. I hope that she did too. The tutee told me that she worked as a youth worker (or something like that) and she had no formal qualifications upon starting her degree. I could tell that she was scared, despite the fact that she told me that she felt intimidated by uni. I told her to use that fear to make her work hard. We talked about lots of things and mostly it was about making the theories relevant to the real world. I was paid some wonga. I went home, and it took longer than usual. I've not really been in a tram much and I felt a bit uncomfortable being in the corner as a big black guy was in front of me and he was really fat. It wasn't that I was uncomfortable that he was black; but that he was eating fried chicken in front of me (the whiff was tempting me to binge) and if I stood up to say excuse me to get off the tram; I knew that he was too fat to scootch up to give me space. Then this chinese family with loads of kids got in the way; the little boy was cute. Am I racist for saying their ethnic minority group when describing them? Either way; I am seriously not making up that the black guy was eating fried chicken, I know its a stereotype but there you go; he was eating it out of a polystyrene burger case.

I got home (after longer than I needed to take); I had a quick meal of mum's lamb curry (yeah if you think anything cos I'm asian then you are rascist! :p), and basically warmed down, I looked at some porn, and chatted to cute girl from Norway. I like her, I told her that I like her. But I don't know if she thinks I just like her of if I like-her like her.

Today, I'm behind like shit, but! I've got another tutor. I'm planning to do an online tuition session. I've set up a google docs that we can edit together, and I'll see how I work with her. I'm waiting on her, but if I'm lucky I might get paid another £32 (minus paypal fee) . I think that means I might have been paid £60 in two days? It sounds like a pittance, really; that's just the cover for 2 weeks of counselling. But hey, money is money, and I should not sniff at it.

Oh, how about that...(telephone interview invite)

Let it be said that I have a bit of an issue with dealing with anger. It's something I'm working on.

Okay that said, lets mention something else. As well as two applications today, I have also just recieved an invitation to a telephone interview. It's admin (ugh) for the HR section (ugh) of a publishing company (ooh?). Good sign perchance? Anyway, lets get on. I'm doing application number 3. I also need to plot a course to travel to the tutee, which will be long. I hate plotting routes. I kind of dread going to tutor tomorrow. One thing is that I don't feel in my own mind that I'm secure enough to tutor someone, in addition; I've not recieved a second comfirmation from her that I'm doing this session in her place. Also, I'm anxious about being the only person in the office (of that organisation) tomorrow. That irks me. Where did those two cute editor interns go as well? I feel like its just me and the boss sometimes, and that makes me feel a bit tense; looking into her eyes, seeing her puppy dog face while trying to keep a fake face. I keep wondering things like, is she that much older than me?

I have to say that I'm making good progress today, I need to stretch on for just a bit more, then I'll relax! If I had a third hand I'd pat myself on the back. I hope the cute girl from Norway comes online. She's cute, and funny I can be myself around her, which even for an online contact with someone, is a delight for me. Sometimes I miss being me. A girl once said, being better is like an old friend revisiting.
Anyway, I digress. APPLICATION!

I have a saying, the more I do, the more I have to do. I should add to that: the more I do, the more I post about what I'm doing. Except when I'm actually busy and stressed and I don't post at all.

My life in shoes

Good afternoon,

I thought I'd make a post about a history of my life in shoes. At the moment, I've cleared up a lot of my schedule tasks, I've disregarded quite a lot of my job applications that I scheduled because I thought of reasons like: I don't want to work in PR, or I don't want to qualify as a social worker. Two applications sent is a good sign all the same. I'm a bit anxious because tomorrow I'm interning (on my own, boss is away) and I'm tutoring, well I think I am anyway; I've not heard back from the tutee. Most of my day has involved exploring GReader, where the glut of articles never end. Neither does my 'to read' list of books. Life is inevitably an immortal struggle of learning and reading for me.

I was looking at the guardian fashion page on brogues. Although I'm not perhaps a fashionisto about these matters; sartorial matters are often concerns for me. On reflection, shoes seem to be an issue of status and self expression.

When I was little I wore whatever my parents gave me, often they were cheap and embarrassing shoes that had motifs like 'superted' or 'teenage mutant ninja turtles' on them. They probably weren't 'official' either. Back then, when Woolworths existed, there was that amazing range of clothes by ladybird. I considered woolworths to be quite a fun place when I was really young (like under 6-7) because of the novelty of the clothes they had in my size. Growing up later on, toward the end of my primary school days; I became a bit self conscious about image. I was making more friends and being londoners, and kids; there were cliques and means of self expression.

I saw that my older siblings wore trainers with brand names on them like Nike and Adidas. I thought (I have no idea why) that these brands were in some kind of heirarchy and you were the best if you had x,y,z brand. I was taught that by consumerism and the community of friends I kept with. Who knows, if my parents didn't take me to Jesuit school I may have ended up differently; maybe not unemployed but wearing a hoody and trainers in my council estate with my babies' mommma going to my shift at morrisons. I grew out of an obsession with trainers and the status associated with them. However, I did appreciate the utility of trainers, they were light and I thought you could wear them to all sorts of occaisions, and run with them. That sense of utilitarianism is a norm that informs me today.

Skip a few years, I was extremely boring in secondary school. I had no social life and few friends, the friends that I did have were largely school oriented. Now thinking about it, my life was pretty shitty and boring, and as such, the story of my shoes are plain black and indistinctive. Come sixth form and I became a little bit more academical, I felt a fashion style emerging from me. I was interested in 'smart' and dressy things like suits and waistcoats. This is a borrowing from my boring ways of secondary school sartorial. I liked to wear dress shirts and I survived any of the fashion fad flops of that era (the early 00s); my hair however, was a different story.

I had three different pairs of shoes during sixth form that I grew attached to that i found self defining; I had these red brogues (that's why the guardian article triggered a memory) which were really snappy, eccentric but smart. I suppose that was the personality that I put forward. Even the bullies respected me in sixth form, lots of people thought I was crazy. Even the gothic pretend-'crazy' guys were like 'GET HIM AWAY FROM ME'. I guess that I had a reputation of being a silent guy, and you should never trust the quiet ones. They say often 'it's always the quiet ones'. Eventually those shoes were worn down so much that they broke at the middle. They are still fondly remembered to this day.

In my second year of sixth form, I discovered myself, I knew that I wanted to do acertain subject in university and that I wanted to be an academic. I suppose that idealised perception of me was the foundation of the man I'd become and the person I am now (albeit not a loser). In my shoe life, my feet stopped growing, and at that point I realised that the shoe size, and these feet would not really change. Shoes had to embody permanence for me. My mum always taught me that I shouldn't engage too much in the throwaway society, despite the fact that after she taught me this; she'd recklessly purchase from clothiers that sell items at ridiculous prices. Scarity was replaced by indulgence . I guess my parents started making more money and started to be financially secure.

I started wearing these light brown (I can't think of a colour; they were kind of camel but darker) chelsea boots. Those boots defined me, and in a way they still do. I found myself in that year. I felt those boots made me feel strong. They went all the way up my ankle, and looked smart, but they were also a bit macho. It was also risque but an acceptable amount of risque, like wearing leggings (which I also did during colder months - I got ridiculed for it but I had a warm arse). My clothes became a uniform, and part of the mental image I had of myself when I was in my head-world. Those boots were vital to that image.

Come university. My boots broke. There was a hole in the sole, due to overuse. I still wore them, but they got permanently damaged and ruined my feet (I wonder if that's where my feet fungal issues come from...). I tried to hold on to them for as long as I could. They were permanently now with a squelch, and a of couple inches of mud around the toes picked up from the hole. I was depressed at uni, I have mentioned that story enough times now. The shoes told that story; I tried to hold on to thsoe chelsea boots, those memories for so long that it hurt me and went against me. The thought dawned on me, the unbearable realisation: I needed to change, I needed to shift, I needed to let go of the past.

Summer 2005, approach second year of university. I found a pair of shoes that I wore consistently. They were these cheapo shoes from a low quality menswear retailer (I think they were from 'Officers' Club'). They had these cool climber looking soles and a suede-like upper. They were fun to wear and although they were not the best shoes in the world, they defined me for that time. My life was full of anxiety and certainty, and my shoes represented that. They were low cut at the ankle compared to the chelsea boots; which symbolised a lot of insecurity and vulnerability for me. It was a vulnerability I wore on my sleeve. It was very apparent that the anxiety and depression was very difficult for me during that year of my life. Eventually, I survived second year, and I made new friends. These shoes represented the seed of change, and my moving forward, perhaps I realise this only now but I certainly did not then. I felt lost back then. These shoes were flawed, they got soaked in rain, and did not dry for days. I still wore shoes wet from two days previous and they fucked up my socks and I left wet shoeprints everywhere. Perhaps my seminar tutors were too polite to tell me how silly that was. I had enough trouble in my life anyway, perhaps they saw that.

The year after that, was when I attempted suicide. I dont want to go into it too much on pain of upsetting me (where today is a pretty productive day). I'll just say that those climbing shoes I wore on second year eventually stopped fitting my new mindset. and they fell apart; much like everything else in my life at that time. When you live for only yourself, you can fall so easily into the hell you create in your mind. When you have someone to stay strong for, like a girlfriend, or a child; you force yourself to survive. That's what my ex taught me, that's why I admire her so much as a single mother.

In the third year, I wanted to go back to chelsea boots, I forgot just now that I bought a pair of these cowboy style boots. They had this silly little metal ring around them and I think they served no purpose. They looked cool and they were this dark brown and had a distinctively metalhead aura about them. I was kindof a showoff or poseur at that period, which still shames me a bit today. These boots fell apart as a gesture of the shallowness and ficklety of my imagination and social life. Deservedly so.

After those shitty chelsea boots. I went into a whole different direction. Come my masters degree, I obtained chelsea boots with steel toe caps. These boots were much like in principle my teenaged sixth form self, but they had a hardness to them, literally and symbolically. They were protected by a steel cap. These shoes became protection, and aggression. These shoes were heavy. For me, those shoes represented endurance, strength, audacity, bravery, protection and something I cannot find a word for. They satisfied many crowds. I developed a 'smart-casual' look that made me blend in anywhere from formal to social to highly informal to academic. I perhaps became a little bit obsessive about wearing the same clothes constantly. Perhaps I still am that way toda. Once I moved back home, I began to soften up my dogmatism about my clothing sameness. All the same, the steel toed chelsea boots stayed. I think I must be on my 3rd pair. This most recent pair is perhaps just under 2 years old; but it feels like a long tradition. Those boots, identical to the first steel toe in proportion, colour (and steel toe) have become something defining about me, and they still are. My ideal is to have clothes that fit all situations. I wear those boots in interviews, social occasions, going out; all sorts. However as all things my head has softened a bit. I now currently have 4 pairs of shoes (all obtained since my MA finished) and they are oriented to different situations.

1. Chelsea boots, brown. - Default, except in special situations
2. Trainers - training, shoes that I need to put on as fast as possible (like when mum asks me to go to the post office etc)
3. Doctor Martens rigger boots (extreme weather situations: mud, ice, wind; showing off; airsofting)
4. Parade shoes - extra special smart events, such as funerals, weddings, and other such posh things. Recently, I've increasingly used my parade shoes to go to the office, and I'll wear them as I start my new job. I like how it makes me feel smart, when I wear a dress shirt and a smart jacket on the tube. I feel like a sombody instead of a nobody. I love the 'clack clack clack' sound it makes on the floor as I walk in the tube station, I feel elegant and almost feminine. In my shoes, I'm changing. That's normally a way to find that I'm changing in other ways, if my past is to be relied upon.

I'm surprised that I wrote a post entirely about shoes. Perhaps now I can understand why people have such preoccupations about them in fashion magazines. I don't take shoes lightly, and I try as much as I can not to disrespect them either. I do want to get mroe shoes though; particularly shoes for climbing/tactical situations. The Riggers are durable but not flexible.

Learning about myself

I felt weird about going to counselling after the first session with the lady counsellor. After this second session, I feel like I've made some progress. I talked a lot, I don't think she talked much at all. I came to a personal realisation; an epiphany of sorts. I am trying to find myself. Trying to find eminence. I remember times in my life when I felt special:

• Senior prefect at school
• Performing as a piano soloist
• playing in the school band
• Singing in the choir
• Helping out with extracurricular affairs
• Being involved with societies at university
• Learning about technical things in my degree
• Getting close to original thoughts
• Feeling like a somebody
• (purging)
  
• (being thin through purging)
• feeling sexually attractive

Except for the last three, there is a pattern with all of them. At least, I see one. When I expand myself to something, and someone above and beyond, someone talented and someone who was young but also highly abled; I felt special. I felt if this is my foundation what kind of special, dedicated and caring adult would I be?

A washout. Which is the real answer of my life.



The tension in my life is having the aspiration and meeting the reality. Being on a helium baloon like Pooh bear getting the honey; and then finding the bees. POP, and then suddenly I'm covered in shit.

Anyway lets focus on positives. Today I've cleared half of my schedule already (it is a full on day I must add); and I have pretty cool research tasks for the intern office day. Just when I was thinking of leaving...

Another positive is that I will (hopefully) get to start 'work' from next week (probably).

(Chris Waitt's) redemption

I saw this film a while back called 'A Complete History of my Sexual Failures'. It was about a guy who talked about how all his relationships failed and attempted to find out how and why. Part of it is narrative, another part investigative journalism; its all humour.

At first I thought the guy was pathetic; but then I thought there was more pathos than vanity to him. There was a point where he thought about his longest girlfriend, and how she has now gotten on with her life, pregnant. It reminded me of my ex, and how she got on with her life. There was a moment when (due to his erectile problems), Waitt experimented with Viagra; he then went out asking various women on the street to have sex with him, naturally he got arrested. After he came home from jail he considered that his moment of madness came from a trigger of upset after thinking about the heartbreak over his longest girlfriend. I can totally understand that.

The film had a happy ending, one of the girls he talked to in his mad viagra binge was a cute Russian journalist (or photographer? --- photojournalist perhaps?) who gave him her number, he calls her at the end and the film ends with him explaining her and how they start dating. I thought that for a man who was pathetic (and he was a bit of a funny one), he found redemption in having another chance. There was something that really hit me at the end of the film; he said that the more he spent time with the new and cute Russian lady; the less he thought of his ex and how he missed her. That was so sweet, I only hope one day that happens for me.

- Dobby from Peep Show <3

I started chatting to this girl recently, online. She currently lives in Norway and she's soon going to move to London for a new job. I like chatting to her; she seems really nice. I told her about all sorts of things and she even accepts that I'm a little bit depressive. She's really geeky too and knows loads about hardware and software (yes, she's in IT!) and she is much like Dobby from Peep Show. I don't know if it's going to lead anywhere but its just nice having someone to chat to. I recall her telling me last night that even though it's been a few days since we started chatting; it feels like years to her.  I thought that was a sweet compliment.

I don't let many people in to my life, or my mind, my thoughts or feelings. I distrust so many people. I'm surprised that I told her so much. I'd love to see her when she moves to London. I bet that she'll make loads of new friends and won't have time for me. That's how nice girls end up. I'll be a long forgotten former novelty. Hey ho; lets have no expectations about it and just get on with the day...

Unlearn

I have this constant feeling that I've missed the boat. I've missed out on life, or rather; three years of what my life could have been. This upsets me deeply.

I got an email today advertising about a masters' programme. It was a masters I attempted three years ago that ruined me. In some ways I am unwilling to unlearn what I have learned. Sometimes its important to unlearn. To let go of habits and things that you think you do for your own benefit, or things that you sdo simply because that's the only way you know. Something's gotta give, that much is sure.

I shaved today. I'm not sure why. I suppose I had a bit of doubt of bearing facial snuff, feeling insecure about the tuition on thursday, or the impression it would make if I started the new job later this week. My anxiety has gone right up at the moment because I was looking at the masters degree. There's one masters degree that I saw that looks like it could launch a person into all sorts of thinktanks, and their alumni have all sorts of glamorous careers and high successes.

I feel like such a loser right now. I live upstairs in my parents' house without a job and doing a shitty internship. I don't have a girlfriend and I'm fat. I'm also really smart, but I'm the underachieving kind of smart. I was really good at lectures and talked well (well, for half of them); but something happened and I lost that sense of drive.

There are so many reasons to be depressed. So many reasons to cry. I think that's one of the reasons I made the schedule. The schedule was put into place so that I don't wallow all day and night, but do things. Yesterday was really productive. I can list what I did:

• Sign in at job centre
• Apply to two grad schemes (that's two things)
• ----
• Job search
• Contact HR
• Sent off basic disclosure
• Later on in the day I also sent off (seperately) the bank details form and terms of agreement
• I got another tuition request (who didn't reply back yet) and the details confirmed of another tutee who contacted me on sunday. I'll need to confirm that I'm tutoring her on thursday.
  

I *should* be proud of having done so much yesterday, and how doing things now makes the ball roll for later days. Yesterday for instance, I changed all my coins so that I could have a note to pay the counsellor (now I sound like a right loser). I should be proud that I hopefully won't have to keep visiting the job centre. I should be proud that I'm starting work, and I'll earn money. I should be proud that I managed so much, and how yesterday symbolises an improvement and a step in a forward direction. Today however, leads me to a feeling of regress. Thinking about my academic failures invalidates everything I am as a person. Perhaps it is that which I must unlearn.


When I started this post I had a feeling that I did not have the articulative powers to express myself succintly. But I managed to do it well in this post. I used to write this blog thinking that if i wrote about it, I don't need to think about what I've thought about and listed, it's already in the archive of my memories and expresses something about me; for many things I've posted, I've let free ccertain thoughts, feelings and justified certain rituals to myself; but I cannot yet get over what happened between 2007-2008.

Wish me luck for my day.

I'm not good at the unexpected

I have a schedule of pre-determined tasks, and I have to shamedly admit I've not attended to any of them. Things have gotten in the way of my attention, which I list thusly:

• Contacting HR 
• Job leads I've found from the JCP
• Sending off a letter to HR
• I've recieved another (that's the third in as many days) tuition enquiry
• I've recieved an email just earlier from a HR role I applied to, which basically asked if I was okay with the salary (uh, yeah...) of the job. Is that a good sign? I don't know

I've almost finished these tasks which have suddenly come up. But it does not bode well for my actual schedule. I've learned something about myself that I've already sorta known: I'm not so good at dealing with the unexpected.

Okay, I've sounded off.

ugh, semi-conveniences of life

Good afternoon.

So far today I have done the following:

• Contacted HR
  
• Signed into job centre
• Changed pennies into £5, so that I have enough to give to the counsellor tomorrow
  
• Prepared letter to send to HR

I've found out that the HR people have NOT receieved my terms of engagement and bank details. Predictably I expected this to be the case. No harm done however; because having to wait on the basic disclosure form means that I would have had to wait anyway. I've also learned how to print addresses on envelopes using a word processor! This will reduce and trouble with sending my letter. I'm also going to go to the post office and make sure that my delivery is recorded.

Enough dithering. I thought I needed to sound off before I went out of the house again. For nearly 1pm I dont feel that I've done terribly much. Other things I need to do:

• Everything listed on the schedule
• Await a re-sent bank statement form and terms of engagement letter; fill it out, scan it and then send it off (email won't get lost)

Here's to keeping busy. I've managed to sneak in some lunch. Okay, off I go.

Between two worlds

Good morning.

Something is going wrong in my mind. I know yesterday was a positive day, and I'm glad of that. I also hope this coming week will also show me good prospects, if I put in; I'll hopefully get out.

Morning are difficult for me. I live in this weird head space during the mornings. I feel like I don't want to get out of bed. This probably sounds menial, but for me that was normally the most difficult thing about living with depression. I should say that over the past few months I haven't been as 'depressed'; sure I've had hiccups and low moments, and I do sometimes purge; but it's not like it used to be.

When I first get up, I feel like I want to cuddle. Being on my own I get my teddy bear and cuddle him, and my head goes to places. My head goes to fond memories of Antonia, or fantasies of cuddling someone (a generic someone). How tempting it is to just hide in my head and fantasise. To go into my mind and just burrow in there; escape from reality and indulge in that which is not.

The truth is, reality sucks. Life sucks the moment after I get out of a womb-like comfort; be it after sex; after birth; or out of bed (on a cold day). My negative dispositions are coming back. I must be more vigilant in combating them.  Lets talk about other things, the world of dreams can wait until tonight.

As I got up, I listened to a song to perk me up back to reality. Music is the one joyous thing that is not really present in my head-world. I called the HR people who want to employ me for my 'job'; but the relevant officer isn't available. I expect to get a callback any minute now; or I'll call them when I get back from the job centre. When I finish this blog post; I'm going to get ready to head off to the JCP, I'll sign on, get home and hopefully if I havent' received a 'call', I'll call them as I get home.

It seems that between today and the 29th October; I've got a hell of a lot of deadlines to finish up. This means there will be a fair few applications that I'll need to complete this week; as well as tutoring (hopefully), interning, and counselling; my week looks fairly occupied. Not least to mention where and how I'll fit in jogging/training, halloween celebrations, and meeting my darling ex this weekend. I suppose, you could say this week looks busy. There's something weird about me. I don't work too well under pressure, but if I work independently and on my own initiative it looks like I work well.

Anyway, now that I'm back in the real world, I need to get on.
:)

Positive (with a scratchy face)

Good evening.

I know this perhaps sounds a bit weird, and possibly regressive; but I realised hthat I haven't left the house in 5 days until today. I went out this morning to do a jog/train. I realised the different environment of the cold outdoors; cars were distinctly wet, some were frosty and there was a bit of sleet on the pavements. This contrasted much to tuesday. How much changes in a week...

Speaking of changes, lets speak of positives. I've lost anough lb. Mum's made a roast today, so I may regain it tomorrow. I have also jogged, and I worked on my arms. I was quite cold so My motivation was a little low on the track. I did, however, make 3 miles in my jog, and I did do a bit more than usual on my arms. Motivation is something I fight with constantly. I hope to can keep up this pace. I've also realised that over the past 7 days; I've sent off 12 applications. Compared to my last count of 10 last week, I see that as progress. I feel like it's progress. I've got a whole week full of applications, and the more I apply to jobs; the more I end up chilling out in the evening watching videos. My overall productivity has improved.

Let's talk about hope and prospects. I've recieved my basic disclosure form. This means that I can soon start work. Come tomorrow I'll contact HR and begin to roll the ball. I'm already contemplating all the fun things I'll purchase. I hope one day I'll earn enough money to rent out a flat or a room somewhere, and I can start living independently. Here's to hoping anyway. I want to leave the nest. Have a life of my own, you know; things that people my age are supposed to do. I knew of a girl who left school after GCSE's and now she lives with two kids on her own on benefits (from different dads, might I add) and she just dotes about meeting random boys and pretending to be intellectual and authentic. Oh have I mentioned? She's morbidly obese. Fuck. Sometimes life can be good (living on your own, independence), but then it can be totally shit, from your own doing (obese, two kids, no qualifications, living off the government completely).

I want to start giving back; pay taxes, even though they are higher than normal. I want to put something back into the world; even if they haven't given much to me. I suppose compared to that fat fuck of a harlot; my life isn't too bad. In other ways, it ain't so great either. She gets laid more than me, even though I'm objectively more attractive than her. Maybe white girls are a desired commodity. Asian guys with masters degrees in arts subjects are not. I'm a niche market.

Over the past few days; I've also grown a semi-beard. I have a one beard a year quota that I'm trying to fulfill, another 'fear' I have is that having a beard will go against looking presentable in my new job. Well I probably won't start at least for another week. I want to just grow it out so my sideburns are even, then I'll do a goatee. The great thing about being a man is that you can change your look and grow a beard. Maybe its' symbolic or something. It scratches my face a little bit. I had to put E45 cream on my face to ease the pain.

I've recently got a new phrase: the more I do, the more I have to do. I'm glad that I've kept upright and active these few weeks. It also sucks that my balance is decimated by counselling, paying for dental fees from 6 months ago (the fucking vipers want me to book another appt too!), buying a basic disclosure certificate and another week of counselling. I feel weird about talking about myself to this lady counsellor. I hope I'll get over it. My first counsellor was female, I think of her fondly; she looked like a mental patient (in an endearing way); she had pigtails for a mid 40-something; I could smell her vagina (which means she didn't wear perfume - don't ask how i know that - I have a hound's nose); and she wore these big schoolgirl thigh high socks. If she weren't really old, she'd be like some schoolgirl fantasy. I remember when she left the counselling service; she wrote me a card. I kept it to this day. It's in my memory box, somewhere.

It's halloween next week, I've got a thing with a friend that we try to do every hallow's eve. In addition, I'm probably meeting my ex; interning; counselling (aforementioned) and perhaps I might even go socially out as well. I'm currently negotiating with a mature student who may be interested in tutoring. For me, it will be a charge of a two hour session every week of £16x2=£32. Hmmm, I think I'm going to take her up.

My motivational tendencies have shifted a bit lately as well. If I take a couple of breaks and slow pauses during the morning/afternoon, I can be active even after 5pm/6pm on my schedule and fill out further tasks. I think this is a good sign. My mood is good, my will is strong. Lets hope this leads to something good.

Things I need to do:

• Applications
• Weight loss
• Start job
• Earn money
• Save Money
• Counselling
• Keep positive

So, now I'm going to end this post, because I keept fazing out in writing this blog; so that means I should do something else.

Jobservations

Things I encounter as thoughts when job hunting:

• I hate being asked for my degree exam results, such meticulous and boring detail. Who needs to know that I did a class on the rationalists, or theories of utopia (my degree should have been called useless studies)
  
• I find it weird if I'm sending multiple applications to the same HR officer, or office/department
• I think the world is small in industry that I might bump into someone multiple times; whatever organisation or sector they are in. So, its important not to make a bad impression. I'd rather be the quiet one in the office who gives nothing away than the loud 'funny' one. Funny to one person isn't funny to everyone. Being liked is such a contingent thing, being hated (for valid reasons) is such an ultimate thing as well.
  
• I hate being asked a 'new question', it means I need to input a new 'pre-written response' to it, and it also means I have to think.
  

Weird dream world

I'm glad that I'm upright. There's something about this cold weather, or perhaps this time of the month; that is affecting my mindset. I'm starting to feel increasingly disoriented. I find it far too easy to get distracted, to fall into some reverie and sink into my mind. I must stay in reality. Last night involved weird dreams, too weird to describe. I can bearly remember them either. A lot of my dreams also reveal subconscious desires for a particular archetype of a girl. It's interesting because although I can't remember anything about the archetype; she seems so appealing and also is nothing like previous girls I've been involved with. I think she's realistic too.

So I'm awake now, and trying to get on with my schedule. Even writing this post I find it difficult for my mind to focus.

Let's talk about positive. I've finally recieved my Basic Disclosure. This means that a process will unfold from this point:

1. Inform HR that I have the form
2. Ask them if they want it posted to them
3. Ask HR if they have recieved my banking details properly
4. Send HR the form
5. HR Recieves form
6. I choose shifts
7. I'm allocated shifts
8. I start work
9. Wait 4 weeks
10. I get paid

I feel like I need to apologise to you, to myself, to the world. I'm sorry that I'm so dim-witted right now. I'm not sure what's going on inside my head.

Oh, let's list a positive. I lost weight today and I'm well on my target weight! Perhaps that sets me up for losing weight to go down to 225 next week, and then further still. One can only hope. I have suspiciously not expelled any stool over the past 3 days. Yet still have I lost weight. Am I constipated again? I hate when that happens, that surely cannot happen because I have eaten a lot of veggies and had a lot of water. Odd.

I'm going to end this post so that I can do a job application. Wish me luck. My disorientation grows.

active mind

Good evening.

It's a late 9pm when I am posting. I've applied to two grad schemes today, and did a lot of job searching and other minor GCal tasks. Perhaps it might be said that my mind kept slightly more active today; or perhaps better put, I kept busy with minor procrastination tasks, and then I did a little bit of searching, and then a lot of job searching. I've committed not only today's tasks but some excess of those tasks over the next few days. However It should be worth noting that I also scheduled a lot of applications for this month and november. I'm going to start applying to graduate schemes again. Lets' see my luck this time...

I watched a bit of TV, I also ate a reasonable amount. My time today passed by quickly but I did spend a lot of time. If I were to be the counsellor of my conscience; I'd admit that what I did was 'a lot'. But it's not enough. When will  it be enough? It will be enough when I get results. It will be enough when I start making gains. I perhaps did more today on account of the fact that I didn't train today. Perhaps I'll allow myself some training time tomorrow.

When I look at my dad, I see a failed person. My dad is so lazy, i mean, he does his job and he does a good job. But there is the emotional labour of being a dad, a husband and a grandfather that he is utterly shit at. My dad reflects all of the flaws I most deeply fear not only that I might have, but he reflects the flaws that I do have. I must be better, for myself I must improve.

There are moments of despair when I jog. Moments when I am out of breath or I feel like I've simply run out of steam. Moments such as those are terrible, destructive. I feel constantly like I am underachieving in life. I wish real life had an equivalent of reading more to improve yourself. I wish reading and the skills I've attained through my attempt at bettering myself had a real impact on my successes as a person. I feel like a failure for the fact that I am trying to impove myself and my situation, and it seems to lead to nothing.

I hate the bitterness and embarrassing shame hidden over pretend foolishness that my dad has. In all of my memory, my dad has never talked to my sister. There's some underlying issue that happened in the family when I was a toddler that I don't know about. Every time I bring it up my mum, or someone else treats me like I've committed some transgression. I hate what this family tension has done to us. It has torn the family in half in trying to pretend it doesn't happen. My dad is so complacent about it he shows no virtue in this issue.

Sometimes you can talk about the external world so much that you forget about your own development. Sometimes you focus on your own development too that you become too self-involved. The world seems so complicated right now. I'm constantly trying to learn about the world and learn and improve myself by means of checking out blogs and listening to podcasts and listening to music. I also enjoy leisurely pursuits too.

I feel like an inadequate outcast. I feel isolated from my peers and from society at large. Some days I wake up and I don't feel like myself. Really, I don't know who 'I' am anymore; who is the subjective agent of experience? What are his traits? Sometimes I feel what I have described in previous posts as the stupour. Perhaps the stupour is weather related. It often tends to be in cold weather when I feel disoriented and almost detached from my physical body.

I also notice that while I try to express myself, I also find there is only a certain amount I can say until I love my lucidity. Thus I end this post.

visualised introspection

last night I chatted to my ex.

She said things that cheered me up, made me feel good about myself; but in doing so I give something to her: control.

She was saying how much she missed my body, my hair, my lips, my chest and my cock. She even used her little nickname that she used to give it. It upsets me when she talks to me like that, she's leading me on when I know it will lead to nothing. She knows I'm not getting any, and she can have anyone she wants. It especially hurts knowing how ugly and fat I am.

In my twilight imaginations, I envisaged running away from people who threatened me. In my mind-world, it was me, alone but pursued by unfriendly foes. On one side was mia, the most dangerous woman of them all, because she is the woman inside me that wants me to purge. On the other side were people who hurt me, Antonia included. I felt alone with these figures pursuing me. There was another man though who I ran to. This man I always understand as my 'other self'. The person whose voice I used to hear, but hear no longer. Inside that man was brotherhood and friendship, like how I have with real people in the world.

Perhaps its a visualisation, a symbol that I need to be more involved with real people, and with more male company. Even the voice in my head is female, that's scary. Who has binkers that are gendered?

Today has been slow. I woke up slowly, had a bath, felt cold, cooked slowly but it was nice (salmon and veggies) and sent only one application today, on the other hand it was a grad scheme. Most of my tasks today are tackling with the smaller tasks that I've set myself that plague my schedule, namely, investigating grad schemes. I need to apply to more graduate jobs (I'm applying to other stuff too, of course) if I am ever to aspire to graduate employment. What I'd do for a hefty wage. I bet if I start earning 30k, Antonia would say stuff like 'lets start over again'. That hurts.

Perhaps I'll focus on trying to get more done. Right now I'm trying to clear up GReader, I've got loads of Guardianjobs RSS'd on there. Here's to hoping that I get enough done today. My life seems like occupied monotony. Speaking of monotony, I need to do some of that intern work I meant to do yesterday. Ugh. I wish my basic disclosure form came in soon. I WANT TO WORK!!

the ball of knots (anxiety)

Good morning.

My anxiety is taking a turn for the worse today. Why am I anxious? perhaps that's a good place to start. Maybe I'll make a list, to comprise my stream of consciousness.

• I have the general thought: Nothing seems to work
• Specific thought: my computer (nothing seems to work)
• Specific thought: My playlist metadata is all screwed up for some reason (Nothing seems to work)
• General thought: life (nothing seems to work)
• Specific thought: peer envy (my life doesn't seem to be working)
• specific feeling: loss, jealousy, disappointment (peer envy, my life doesn't seem to be working)
• Specific thought: my body isn't what I want it to be
• Temptation: mia, ex girlfriend.
• Feeling: hopeless
• Grounding for hopelessness: news about spending review

Solutions:

• Take a deep breath
• One step at a time
• Do what you can
• Remember your past fondly, the persons you were made up the person you are now. I sincerely believe that you are maturing

For want of precis, I think my thoughts and feelings are crystallised in these words. I hope my anxiety eases today.

Why do I feel permanently slow witted?

Dear me,

This morning I woke up late, but I have deservedly kept quite occupied this week. I may consider going for a jog this afternoon, or perhaps I'll stay in my room. Unique about today is that I am not interning today. I *should* do some work, but then again I'm not being paid by them. My boss is nice, and cute; she reminds me of an awkward girl I knew from uni. She may well be that same person (she isn't, different name); she probably did the same course as her, probably did all the charity stuff that she did and she was probably editor of the news show on the university radio station and a member of the Christian Union just like her. Good on her. At least her life isn't shit.

I feel sometimes like I'm the old guy at the club, the guy who didn't do so well in life and he's in the same course, or cohort as people younger than him. I feel like I missed the boat, missed the train, missed the tube of metaphorical oppurtunity. I'm too lazy, that's my problem. Perhaps I should stop listening to Paradise Lost.

Lets talk about my day. Yesterday I went training, applied to two jobs, kept up with my schedule, and same old same old. I Lost a bit of weight between yesterday and today but not much; I hope I can go down to 226 soon. Perhaps that's a reason I should give to job. I masturbated, fell asleep and listened to some audiobooks. My life is dull, were it not for all my learning. I've lately adopted this state of mind where I feel entirely blasee and slow witted. I'm not a dumb person but I seem to play the absent-minded one pretty easily. Antonia and her daughter are visiting the city next week, I was texting her to arrange a meetup. It happens to be on the same day as halloween, which is going to make things difficult since I have plans. I'll have to do my halloween celebration with my mate on sunday afternoon, rush off to see the ex, then go home. I think I'll be sweaty. At least we are still talking...I still care about her.

So, lets talk about something else. I've got a potential tutee asking for my services. It's on a subject  I actually did at university, and its' a bit far away (in Surrey). Am I going to go to surrey for a journey that takes 1.25 hours from the office in north london for £15? Well, I spent 1.5hrs going to and from the office for even less than that (nothing). Having a tutorial wage could supplement my upcoming 'casual' job (presuming the forms and stuff are sorted) and, any money is money. I suppose I need to not be picky about work these days. Even though I'll earn a pittance.

So, I *guess* that's positive. Tutoring  'A' level subjects to a person who is going into a university system that will bugger them royally into debt with prospects of unemployment and depression. Maybe that's just me. Ugh. I hate my life. Maybe that's why I feel so slow witted. I'm not positive enough. If I had a date, or a girl interested in me, or a job, a proper job; I might feel better. For Now I must soldier on.

I know this might sound weird, but I think in some ways I have more drive and ambition with my present situation than someone who is comfortable. This memory, these memories of two years of limbo will haunt me, or push me. That's the choice I must ma.e How do I let the world affect me? As a power for motivation? or an anvil pushing my further down? I'm glad I ate spinach for breakfast. Shame about the pork. I hope mum's aubergine curry is still on the menu tonight.

Okay, lets get on.

Politics of difference

I have applied to two jobs today, and they have led me to procrastinate a bit. Why? Because both of them are actively recruiting for 'non-heterosexuals'. I was thinking to myself, could I pretend to be queer (defined as: non heterosexual) to get into a job? I would almost do that, because it's damn hard to get into a job. This sounds like the premise to Judd Apatow movie. If I may be frank, what the hell does it matter what sexuality you are, unless you are working as a porn star or something, and even then; lots of people are 'gay for pay'.

I've read a lot of blogs about feminism and gender issues. Am I becoming a closet feminist? Perhaps I am. I am not reading enough Aristotle, it seems. I was also reading about on wikipedia about the life of Justin Fashanu (sic); that's tragic, I can't believe that he's the ONLY professional footballer to come out. That's crazy, it's also terribly sad. The world is still pretty intolerant, I guess that's why people do affirmative action. I wish I was scooped up on an affirmative basis, I mean, I'm a minority ethnic, I have a disability, and a couple of mental illnesses (anxiety and purging). Maybe I need to maim myself and then the applications will come flooding in.

In other news, I'm still bloody waiting for my basic disclosure to come in. I WANT TO WORK!! I hope the HR people successfully recieved my application.

Chilly mornings

Good morning.

It's cold, I can't go about wearing a thin t-shirt anymore (note to self: put something on). I am inclined to buy a gilet. I think it's been in fashion long enough for a fuddy-duddy like me to wear. I often associated it with those guys wearing jack-wills quasi-chav gear in my university seminars; but perhaps it is functional. I thought it weird that jack wills clothing was so pretty and yet, so street. It's what rice white people interpret of sports gear, overpriced, sporty yet not doing any sports, and trying to fit in.

I think yesterday was technically a productive day. I sent off two applications for jobs, then I went for a job, did a bit of job searching and went counselling. I should probably say now, I felt awkward counselling. I think I'll list the reasons:

• I'm not fully sure if I can sustainably afford the sessions, let's just say for now that I can. Hopefully when I start the new job I can do once a week. But if I start a FT job I won't be able to go at the agreed time. Fuck.
  
• This makes me sound really prejudiced but I have to come out with it; the counsellor puts me off a bit because a) she's female (and that makes it a little difficult to express my body issues and fear of women) and b) she's really young, like probably my age!! That puts me off because of the peer factor that people like De Botton talk about. I don't want to talk to a 'peer' about it, I want to talk to an outside agent, like an old man, or an old woman. Someone at least 10 years older than my older sister. Someone who looks like they have a PhD and have known suffering. I shouldn't be so prejudiced. She's also a little cute.
  
• Despite the aforementioned point. I mentioned something that I really find difficult to talk about. You know how some problems are so big that they can't be solved? Like losing a limb; one needs to just learn to accept the different change of one's own subjective experience and the bounds of what they may reasonably expect. I talked about the past two years, not just in my life; but in UK higher education. The Lehman brothers' crash led to the recession, which led to a big unemployment hike, a big job freeze, graduate schemes being overly subscribed, jobs being scare, internships being exploitative and most poignantly, university courses, and fundings increasingly and overwhelmingly difficult to get into.
  
• I told her, and I told myselfthat there's nothing more I want to do than academic research. Without this, I'm purposeless. This upsets me.
  
• I also told her in passing, that when I disowned my friends, I think it was mia controlling me. I also perhaps regret what I did in distancing myself from them.
  
• I felt weird last week talking about myself. Perhaps that's how counselling is supposed to feel. You open up and express your vulnerabilities, and then you walk out of the session feeling more vulnerable (and a few £s lighter, not the 'pounds' that I'd particularly want to shed (lbs) - that's a pun). It feels off-putting, disorienting and it throws off my emotional equilibrium opening up like that. Perhaps I need to, if I ever am to get better in my life. Sometimes I don't know where I stand.

I walked home in the rain, and passed a sainsburys. I bought food to gorge upon, then I also ate supper. That's a sum of three meals that day. I still think it was too much. However, I do feel in myself that there are small changes, even if my weight isn't going down enough. I shouldn't take too many laxatives either, they cause more pain than actually work. Getting home brought the realisation that I was cold, and I hid under the duvet, and masturbated a few times. I also started chatting to a cute girl online. She's from norway, and she seems like a female dobby. She's funny and jovial, also she's in IT. I perhaps shouldn't tell her that dobby is the girl of my dream. Oh Dobby, I wish you were real.

I recall chatting to a friend the other day and she told me that Dobby (because I am oblivious) is purposely 'ugly' or a misfit; in that she wears ugly cardigans and she has a shit hairstyle. I thought my friend was mean. I love Dobby's eccentricities and she is my perfect vision of a woman: understanding, funny, cute, sexy, flirtatious (who can forget the storage cupboard), and perhaps the most important thing is that she doesn't have any pretense, no play, no acting, no games, what you see is what you get; and her feelings for mark are sometimes genuine; except mark fucks it up. Also she is a geek.

Anyway I have real things to do unfortunately, than fantasise over a tv character. Wish me luck. Since starting the post and finishing it, I've put on my combat jacket. It's warm!

Embarrassing moments (when getting depression help)

I recall these occaisions at the moment probably because I'm thinking about the impending counselling session that I have later on today.

I felt in a bit of a stupour just earlier, so I decided to go out for a jog. I did, and I finished early due to the rain. I'll tell you something that's funny, as soon as I reach home the bloody rain stops! Alas, I managed to get my heart rate up, and break a bit of a sweat. I feel slightly better having went for a jog (and 10mins calisthenics). I didn't go since saturday and I felt a little guilty about that. Right now, I'm going to log my data and then have a shower (which is overdue).

I'll talk about two embarrassing memories. One time I went to the psychiatrist's office and in the waiting room was a guy I knew at uni. That was most horrific for me, I was immediately outed in a way that I could not hide. Years later he messaged me on facebook asking 'why was I there?'. He was bipolar, that's also why he left uni. Perhaps I was not so worse off insofar that I learned to get over my depression, or perhaps better put, I learned to 'hide' it well.

I remember when I met Marie, I wouldn't have thought that she also hid her depressive tendencies.. It was because she was bipolar that she had a facade. I fell for her because I felt her desparation and she felt mine; and that she cared about me. At that time, that meant so much to me.

Another embarassing time, once after a lecture, a guy from my course followed me to the counselling office. He thought I was going to the fairtrade cafe. I was *outed*. Luckily he was nice and discreet. He was a pretty cute guy. He seemed like an understanding guy too. Somehow I suppose I had a reputation that I liked the fairtrade cafe.

I'll certainly say this. I really miss that fairtrade cafe at uni. It was so delicious, and I got to meet some really nice people when I felt otherwise isolated. I think I got to make a few friends there. I did have a few friends at university, friends that were nice people. I was just hoping, perhaps unrealistically; that I'd have friends like how my other mates from college made buddies at university where they drank like mad and had one night stands and went to clubs. Perhaps, just perhaps, I'm glad that wasn't me.

I feel a little tired, and my clothes are starting to stink. I better get on.
Thanks for listening.

damaged

At the moment I feel quite inadequate. I have the feeling of going to a PE lesson and not having a kit, where all the other kids do. I have the feeling of going to a class realising I'm the only one who hasn't done the homework. I carry that feeling deep inside me in the social world. For breakfast, I ate a few biscuits. There are a couple of bananas on my bed.

I feel upset, I feel angry. People often say that the psychological damage to graduates who are unemployed stay with them for a long time. My life is one narrative of the constructed political and social reality. At the moment the thoughts are led to my weight. I wish I were thin. If I were thin, then I could be happy. I'm upset, and Mia's the one who is there for me.

Perhaps that's why I need 'help'. I don't like when my parents belittle me. I feel socially powerless. I hate feeling powerless. I wish i weren't powerless and that I had power. Mia gives me power, Mia gives me the power of control. There is nothing more powerful than self-control.

I've not lost weight because I've not given enough of myself to mia. I've become the loser that I hated so much. My friends think less of me. They all pity me. Even my ex girlfriend pities me. That's why I'm upset, that's why I'm angry. I'm angry because their pity of me is based on the presumption that I have in myself, the realisation of their pity matching my inner, deepest fear: the fear that I could have done better with my life and I had the potential to be so much more.

I want to scream. Times like this make me want to hide in my own head-world. Today I have lots to do. Maybe I'll make a bargain:

do all your tasks for today: and more, and I'll let you starve or purge. You will have your power, mia grant me control.

Intellectual laziness

I was conscious and awake from about 8am. I was listening to podcasts playing all night (again). I read Oedipus at Colonus by Sophocles yesterday, I listened to two podcasts about presoctratic philosophers this morning, and I started on Sam Harris' latest book on Science and Morality. While laying in bed feeling sorry for myself, I could always feel strong disagreement for it.

I hate the audacity of people who have novel although amateur approaches and speak as if they were the first ones to think of something. I dislike people who have a disregard for history, and the intricacies of theoretical developments.

Let's talk about the morning. I feel groggy, I also feel a strange sensation just around my waist. If I had lady parts I'd feel like my pussy organs were hurting. I don't know what organs are down there but they feel sore. I think it's my large intestine; or it could just be my groin related muscles that are straining me (why they would be strained is beyond me). I masturbated a bit much yesterday, but I did perform a task that was necessary. It was necessary to perform the folder-scan.

Coming up this week: a shitload of job applications, trying not to lose all my money and most notably: counselling tomorrow. I think I quite look forward to it. The thing that feels weird lately is that sometimes when I think about the upcoming appointment to see a 'professional'; I think to myself 'I don't have a problem'. I feel this sense of denialabout it. On the other hand I also feel that they have this power to make it all better. Just the hope forms the basis of that little belief. Little niggling things upset me. I try not to let it rise to the surface. I wish I didn't eat so much yesterday. In fact I only ate twice. I am not 226lbs. Going down to 220lbs seems impossible. I've been trying for months now. My genes and my dispositions are my enemy. I want to be thin. CAN'T YOU LET ME BE FUCKING THIN!!

I hate when things let me down; like my parents low intelligence. I hate when they make it seem like I'm being cruel because I take an effort to learn. What is the use of x? they would always ask. It's a self-limiting feature of their minds. Then again, I seem not to have made much out of my life. The story of my life is the failure of intellectual outlook; the failure of intellectualism (being well read).

It would be too ambitious to expect my basic disclosure certificate to come into the mail. It would be desirable however. I went halfway through October trying not to remember 'the memories', however, I feel that with the spectre of summer long behind us; it is slowly taking over.

I remember when I started writing this blog I felt like it was a way to express all those things in my head that I didn't have the confidence to tell anyone else. It still very much has this function for me. However I think that I want someone to talk back. I should say that this week is especially busy. I seem to have set myself a lot of research on graduate schemes. Last week I applied to 10 jobs in a space of 7 days. I'd say that, considering some days last week were filled with no applications at all (like yesterday's scanning and intern day); that's a pretty good sign. I think it is positive that I am applying to more jobs this last week than previous weeks. Yet I still feel a sense of dissatisfaction. I have much to do when I get back from the JCP, and I have a sinking feeling that it won't all be done. I also hope that I avoid the evil of food.

I've determined from my bank records (just now checked) that the dental payment and basic disclosure are not sorted out. Anyway, I better go. Laters.

shredding memories.

I remember not long ago when it was a 6pm and the sun shone brightly. The seasons remind me of how fickle life is, and how quickly things pass by.

On my schedule, it told me that a date was coming up, the 24th October. I don't really remember what happened back then fully, but also I don't want to remember. For the past year, perhaps even longer; I have associated what the present date is with previous dates of that month and day of previous years.

I told myself this morning that 'I am starting to be different' now. I told myself that I was better inside myself. I told myself that I'm future oriented now and I am focussing on trying to make my life and future better. My mood changed between now and then.

Something triggered and upset me last night. It was just a seed but a seed of a thought that really pained me. I was on facebook the other night (always a source of pain) and I saw that one of my friends posted on the wall of another saying that they wanted to invite them for a celebration. They were celebrating that they were qualifying as a doctor. I am more or less the same age as these two conversing people and it made me think: what a wonderful achievement you've made in your life. It then reminded me of how shit my life is.

My cousin who is about my age (who apparently, a mate from school went out with) recently got married, I mentioned the wedding in previous posts. She's married with a child and living the life. What am I doing? I'm scanning paper documents so that I can get rid of the physical paper but still keep the records digitally. That's what I'm fucking doing with my life. I am scanning about 120 pages or so of junk memories in my life instead of making new ones and living them. The fucked up thing is, that scanning my folder actually counts as an active day.

This morning I woke up optimistic, and I even thought to myself that I'd go to scan my folder, and that would count as a productive day. Now I feel upset. I feel upset that this is how shit my life has become. All I do is work on a diary of empty tasks, a diary of job applications where I am overqualified but I STILL DON'T GET THE FUCKING JOBS.

I'm pissed off that I'm putting off my journal submission because I am afraid of failing, so I don't even get to it. I've become afraid of failure because of so many heart breaking failures. I'll tell you about heartbreaking memories. I have a paper folder of the past two years of memories reminding me that I have wasted the past two years of my life. I have a paper folder telling me that I applied to various postgraduate courses, MPhil's, PhD's, PCGE's and I didn't get into any of them. I had 5 letters from the British Museum letting me know the same thing: I didn't get the job. I am always getting those emails, those letters, and occaisionally, the call. I have to be a bitch and say to them: thank you for letting me know. I wish I could say FUCK YOU.

But I can't

Because I'm powerless. I'm socially powerless and my only financial prospect comes from a job that pays £7 an hour that I hope to start.

I pause after quickly typing the rant above. I pause and think to myself: I'm glad I'm able to get these thoughts out.

You see right now I want to purge. I want to purge and the reasons above are why. I wanted to write this post, pause from going straight to purging so that I can articulate my feelings. I feel there's no point in avoiding mia. Mia is the only power that I have.

I went on a pro mia website the other day, and it was written as if 'mia' was an external person. Mia can appear like an external person to me, but I also noticed that mia is a presence in other people too. It is very much similar to my mia, too. When I read the stuff on the pro mia sites, I felt their anger and desperation. I've eaten once today, perhaps I can fight off mia if I just eat salad. Scanning my folder today was an important task. It also took off a lot of my pre-scheduled activities to form a much busier week come monday. I've got lots of assignments: applications, exploring graduate schemes and also a 'research day'.

Perhaps I'll just say something a little positive today. Scanning those folders and putting the documents in the shredder felt a little symbolic. The past two years were filled with bad memories (not all bad, if I may nuance it up a little). Shredding those rejection letters felt symbolic of shedding the past away. Shedding the power that those memories have over me. I'm a very sentimental person sometimes, and it's oftten hard for me to get rid of things that draw me back to old memories.

I remember once I said on this blog, long ago: I said that there were totems that brought memories full back into the past. I used to wake up with no memories of the past when Mia took over. It would be welcome to move forward in my life. I've got a new job that I'll hopefully start soon; I've got counselling on tuesday, and a job centre appointment tomorrow to prepare for. Right now I feel like laying down and simply closing my eyes. On the other side of that coin, I also feel a deep sense of inadequacy. Perhaps I'll simply enjoy the next few minutes I have of being alone in the house.

Oh, perhaps I'll inject some humour today: while scanning I was watching 2 seasons of footballers' wives. I scanned through an episode every 5 minutes and now I'm halfway through season 3. Processing information goes quickly when you are with your cock out. That was a bizarre experiment. It adds to the old adege I have: think with your dick.

The perennial question

I've been jogging consistently for quite some time. Why hasn't there been enough progress? perhaps some possible responses:

• Jog more, push yourself more (valid, although I'm pushing myself more lately than I ever have)
• Organise your diet better (more valid)
• Consider more excercise beyond jogging (even better)
• Just keep up the good stuff that you are doing

A sense of frustration is something that comes with my training routine often. When I train, I learn more about myself, my mind, my body, my attitude, my determination. I also forge a new path inside my mind, a new personality, a new attitude, a new determination. I hope that through that ironmongering, one would forge a new body. I'll certainly say this; my shoulders are getting bigger, I'm getting some more definition around my arms and my mid section is getting a bit more shapey (but not round shapey).

Today's training session was a good one. I did just under 4km, worked on upper body and legs and I learned that the thing that really drives me harder with the pullups is not just about the muscles but its more about my lung capacity. If I'm in good lung shape; I can push up to 10-13 reps. If I'm in weak lung mode (where I strain and really push my arm muscles), I go up to 4-7 reps in a set. Learning this, I interspersed the cycle machine as a warmdown/breather excercise between when I'm pumping iron.

Getting back home and entering my training data shows that I have expounded an estimated 800kcal (perhaps this is a bit over the top an estimation?). If I am to consider my calisthenics routine to be vigorous, and I'd say it was a little, I was somewhat merciless with situps, leg excercises, pullups, bicep presses, and my only breather was on the cycling machine which I used fairly vigorously. I feel like I'm cheating with that estimation. I do however, feel that it was a good workout. I went a bit further than usual with my jog home as well.

So, getting home, I entered the data, I had a lovely breakfast consisting of beans and toast. with some meaty little pork sausages in the beans (some specialised market for sausage + beans I think). Now that my body is slowing down back to its former state, I need to go for a shower and get back to my schedule. Some things on the back of my mind include: worries that the employers cant' read, or haven't received my bank form/acceptance to work. My other worry is whether the people who do the basic disclosures will reply back to me. These things worry me because I always think the worst when I send off mail. Esepcially since with my experience with the Job Centre, the worst does happen. I want to start working and earn my keep. Even if it's a shit job at least I can say I started at the bottom. I'll then earn enough to buy cool things, maybe nice clothes. Maybe I'll lose weight, maybe I'll buy a new laptop. Maybe I'll eventually get a proper job. From that point I could perhaps even move to a flat somewhere.

For now, however; I'm just going to carry on with my schedule, and problems arise when they do arise. Learning from life means to also learn about your reactions. I'm disposed to worry and anxiety. I shall let it go, have a shower, and send off applications and such.

It used to be that I was anxious: now I'm just annoyed

Ugh. One day after I get my JSA paid in, and I've already spent half of it! Fuck!

Let's list the expenses, just to confirm it in my head.

1. Yesterday: basic disclosure (£23)
2. Yesterday: withdrawal of cash to buy lunch (£10)
3. Yesterday: put in £10 (£20 overall if you count wednesday) into bloody oyster card
4. Today: paid £16.50 for dental arrears
5. Next monday: £25 for counselling

I shouldn't complain, but I am a bit tight. The more that you need to get done; the more money it costs. In a sense that's the inevitable inexorable condition of life. Once I start earning more than £10,000 a year (as if that's gonna happen soon...) I'll also need to pay NHS costs. I love that I have the HC2 exemption form, don't get me wrong. I dont' love how much life costs. All of these things I'm paying for, however; go to a wider good: dental care goes to overall teeth care (as I have teeth all my life). Counselling goes to help out my head issues (and I have a few). Basic disclosure is necessary to work for the job I got offered (p.s. woo, job offer!) and finally, the oyster card is probably a cheaper travel service compared to most of the UK's urbanised travel services. WHen I lived in Bristol; First was the empire there. They sucked. Despite that, I do wish I still lived in Bristol. I don't know actually; as when I lived in Bristol for 5 years, I was all like: ugh, this isn't as cool as london.

I know that I'm posting a lot today. I have got a lot on my mind, especially when so much happens. I also have no-one to talk to. Journaling these events seems to keep me sane, it also helps me get my head around life, and myself.

Am I a consumer group?

I hate the fact that capitalism overemphasises commodification. I hate that it consumes me. I was reading this magazine last night, it was called FRONT. It spoke to me, it had interesting products advertised and lots of the bands advertised were sorta metal (but commercial). They also called Stephen Fry a cunt. That wasn't really nice...

Anyway, after reading it with one hand, I saw this page about computer games, and they advertised this laptop, the alienware m11x. My god is it a powerhouse. It is one of the highest spec laptops for 11 inches and I would so love to own one of those babies. I could own one of those and that would be a worthy upgrade to my present shit-top. The price however, is a killer. I would spend that kind of money for a wedding ring, probably. I need to be boring and conservative and say that I shouldn't buy something like that when I've got so many other consumer needs.

I suppose a laptop like that is what they call an aspirational product. Right now aspiration is all I have. I must remember the fire within me. Also maybe a nice Gilet would be nice. I'll tell you what would also be nice; a thiner body. I've maintained the same weight this week. Let's hope I can push it down today.

One day I woke up and realised it was the middle of October...

I realise why I get up so late these days. I get up late because it is increasingly cold outside of my duvet, and in the cold weather with my tired body all cosy and warm; the comfort and warmth of the duvet seems much more appealing.

As I looked at the time on my phone this morning (10:10 am) I realised the date. It's the middle of october. I've kept so busy with my schedule that I've forgotten about the past. I'm glad. I think that I am living my life in a way where now I can finally get rid of the past haunting me. While I do not mean a complete transition away from the past; I think there are many ways in which I am now forward-looking in my life.

When I was rejected from the first PhD application, I was truly heartbroken and I felt ost in time. If it weren't for Antonia, I'd be full blown depressed. It was more a matter of coping at that time. When I started university, and in my second year; I felt so isolated that time had no concept and the past was a brutal reminder of what was and what now is not.

In these autumn days, I get up and I think to myself: when will I hear from that basic disclosure. What's the next step from now? The next step from now, these past few months is the hope of hearing back from interviews and now, awaiting when my basic disclosure form gets back so I can finally start working. Once I start working I can start earning. I'm still applying for jobs as well. I almost feel guilty that as I've only just started a job; I'm still applying to others. I must overcome guilt. It's a dog-eat-dog world out there, and dog is on the menu in the kennels.

I feel tired, and a little cold. Maybe I'll say a few thoughts about yesterday. As I got up this morning I had so many thoughts and feelings and realisations. I felt that my mood is undergoing a distinct shift in consciousness (I hate that word in a non technical sense). So, yesterday I was troubled with sleeping by my nephew's constant chickenpox-crying. I only managed three hours of sleep yesterday (okay, so maybe I have a good reason to wake up late today :) ).

I missed the train to the office, so I had to walk to the tube and take a slightly longer route to work. The tube to work gets me there about in the same time as it would have to stay in the station and wait for the next train. The difference is that I feel more active walking to the station than sitting in one. I felt awkward and weird as per usual in that office. I feel this nervousness around my boss which is totally weird. Maybe because of my fear that she's actually my age and I'm some pissant intern who should be 6 years younger than her. Man, if she was actually my age she'd be really sucessful; maybe she started jobs from 2007 instead of doing a masters like me and ended up running a charity. Fuck.

Anyway the day consisted of small tasks undertaken for her, one included setting up her email account with an old .pst archive from her old computrons (see, I'm technical). I had some lunch, which consisted of co-op reduced aisle food, and powerade. Despite my tortilla sandwich (what do you call those? wraps?) and pesto (mmm I ate some nice pesto) being half price it costed me £4.21 for the whole thing. Somehow I feel like I've been gypped. It must be the damn powerade. So I gobbled down on lunch, while reading an article on feminism and objectification, then as I was eating, the boss came up to me and explained her task that she set me. It took ages to retreive her email (as it was a big file she sent me).

I felt exceptionally tired after lunch, perhaps it was the food, or the daunting chore that the boss gave me. I managed to go on until clocking out time, I read a bit of my review book as I got home; and I spent the rest of the day just winding down. I listened to 10 chapters of a music textbook from librivox; which was interesting, but also 'light' reading for me, I know most of the Italian words anyway. I also messaged this girl that I've been messaging for a week now. There's a distinct possibility of a date with her *excited*.

So the coming prospects for this day? We'll see...

More epiphanies (and a long night)

Good morning. I feel like I have been up for ages. Probably because I woke up at 5:30. I woke up in a cold sweat, and then for some reason I let my thoughts drift without initiative. I was led to think about my treatment cumulatively in grad school. It wasn't good. The essay markings, the negative criticism and some of the things said to me I think were a bit wrong. There is a new blog out lately about the experiences of women in academic philosophy, and it's led me to think about my own treatment in grad school.

I am not sure if I was treated too well. Some of the lecturers/tutors were far too blaisee in their conduct, and I was far too easily let off to my own devices, when I was very ill and depressed. In some ways I wish that I had more help; in others I wish that I sought it. Thinking about the year between 2007-2008 brings me great regret. It caused a degree of damage to my life that I am perhaps only just now trying to resolve. This regret goes so deeply because of how it has affected the course of my later years until this day.

I hate the fact that I have a masters degree and that I'm a very talented, able and hard working person, and everything in the economy goes against me. I'm almost weary and tired of the world. Mia's control grows greater in me. If only I had that same energy I had in hating people to working on my own life; I may have gotten somewhere better than now. I'm glad that I sent off 3 job applications, but where do all my endeavours in life lead if I'm still unemployed and I'm still not losing weight.

Come tomorrow, I'm going to jog for three days in a row. Since today's intern day I'm unable to, but hopefully I'll work hard on my upper body these next few days. My knee, which was a bit tricky this week, is starting to feel better.

Perhaps I'll talk about last night now. I went to the concert. It was nice, it was okay. The piano part was spectacular and the SATB  soloists were without fault, I left halfway because I was not as enthralled by 'dominus tecum' being repeated a hundred times over the space of an hour. I decided to go to the geek munch. I quite enjoyed it. What I particularly enjoyed, compared to my previous experiences of munches; was that I got to talk to 'older' munchers instead of the usual internet generation who tend to be really cliquey and talk about things that exclude people. I found their modes of self expression facile and obvious. T-shirts of novelty, doing up your hair (okay, so maybe I'm a hair culprit too, so mea culpa hypocrisy perhaps there), and geek-ifying a lot. I would say otherwise it was a good time overall. I would go again. I haven't been out to talk to people in so long. I hardly talk to people in general.

It's been so long since I've had a face to face conversation as myself, not as someone putting on a aface, or pretending to be professional. I wonder sometimes if the real me fades away with the increased lack of contact. If getting home just before midnight, and sleeping by 2am didn't fatigue me enough, my nephew's also stayed at our house all week as he's got chickenpox and he's really being a challenge. Being a parent is a full time job and we are just part time carers for the little guy. I really do feel for my sister and brother-in-law. I've luckily gained some experience with children from my ex's little one.

Sometimes I wonder if my socially reserved personality appears socially retarded. I think I am socially retarded. I also think that I have this dualism with my personality; that's something that Mia also plays on. Being confident takes a lot of energy from me and it feels as if a strain on my lungs and my heart. Today I feel in a low gear. Perhaps sitting on the tube, listening to nickelback will boost my mood. I'm ashamed to say that I have put in three nickelback songs in my mp3 player and I was rocking along to them on the tube yesterday. It's tragic, after all the shit I said. There are these two songs which reference 'not eating', and most of the songs seem to be about being self-destructive and not where you want to be in life. I guess I can relate to those things.

Let's take stock of the next few days. After interning today, I can eat at that really nice diner I went to last week. I have been paid in so I can purchase the basic disclosure, pay for counselling and sort out the arrears with the dentist. That then leaves me with little monies to go out, but having a job would put me in a better position overall to go out (which is nice). I'll try to send off the basic disclosure, wait/hope for a week and carry on my schedule. Things of note that I could participate in include: jogging, training, upper body, more job applications, BBC recordings.

I forgot about the pumpkins. Ah, fuck....

At this rate my first paycheck will be just before christmas. Oh, Kyrie Eleison!

Saving the day (Poison on my playlist)

Good evening.

This time a couple of days ago, the sun shone brightly as if it were the twilight of the summer. It now glooms an ominous light-dark blue. It is well and truly the autumnal season.

I sent off three job applications today. Two of them were kind of on a whim, but what the hey, it still counts as three. I still have a fairly busy schedule ahead of me, and tomorrow is a crunch day in a sense: I have to buy the basic disclosure, while managing the intern business. After sending off three applications, I thought that today is as good a day as any to head off to do something different. I know that money pressures loom, but I think that I might be able to manage on a budget. The plan for the rest of the evening (the last hour was planning, weighing up in my head whether to go, and determining a route).

So I have made the provisional plan to go to a concert. I want to go to Knightsbridge and see Rossini's Petite Messe Solennelle. I haven't heard of it. Personally I do not care much for Operatic composers, well that used to be my opinion in the past. I am willing to indulge this piece, and it would be a great oppurtunity for me to go out, listen to some music and enjoy the delights of the BBC's cultural programme. If I have the time, I might consider going to a munch later on too. I've also planned a route from Knightsbridge. I think that I'll wear my intern uniform to go there (since it's polite). I am feeling a little bit tubby today. So this is my attempt to have a night out on the cheap, and still keep some of my personality. I'm going to see a classical music concert, and perhaps go to a munch. Even if I just do the concert. That would be good enough.

Pat on the back for sending off three job applications. I better head out in a moment. I am in good time anyway. I hope its not too crowded on the tubes. Alas, it inevitably would be.

List: things that exasperate me

• Computer with slow ram
• Knowing that when I get paid in with the JSA tomorrow; I've already lost about £65 of it; £23 is for the disclosure form, £25 is for counselling, and now I've gotten an email informing me that I need to pay my dentist £16.50. Fuck, man.
  
• Searching for jobs when you feel utterly hopeless
  
• Trying to make yourself appear saleable and talent when you feel totally shit
• Listening to music that is backward and unimpressive.
• Despite the fact that I keep telling myself that I'm underachieving, I feel that the more I seem to get done in my day; the more I find that I've set myself. It's like the work I've set in my schedule never ends. Furthermore, I still feel like i've achieved nothing in my life. What is sending a few job applications , searching a half dozen employers, and reading encyclopaedia articles and classical literature doing to make me a better person? Niente! (that's nothing)
• Sometimes I need to listen to classical music to keep me sane. Sometimes I need to read books with complex and difficult references to books that are equally complex and difficult to understand, in order to feel that I am living in a world worth living for.

I want to jog, but I know that I've got way too much to do today. It's intern day tomorrow so I need to do an extra special amount. Funny enough today was a day where not much was scheduled. However I feel that I must complete even more today to ensure that the rest of my time is cleared up. Keeping organised and scheduled is a nightmare.