Wednesday, November 24, 2010


At this moment I feel the stresses of life bearing down on me hard.

I 'apparently' recieved a call from the GP office in the 'morning'. If they have my number correct, then it probably was during when I tried to call the counselling office, which is a cruel sense of God's humour. Because I failed to recieve the call, I realised as I went to the GP office now, that it's too late to have the vetting form completed, and it's my fault (that's me taking responsibility). If I had more control over my tasks and everything around me, then I would have completed this task properly. THIS FAILURE MAY HAVE COST ME A GOOD JOB. I AM FUCKING ANGRY AT MYSELF.

I want to purge, but really there isn't anything inside me. I want to purge to punish myself, I don't deserve food. I hate that all of my life is 'damage control', getting over PhD rejections, getting over job rejections, getting over girlfriend rejections, getting over my dreams being shattered to fucking pieces. WHY CAN'T I HAVE A FUCKING BREAK.

Maybe I'll drink loads of water then make myself purge. I don't feel like I deserve to eat right now. I feel so fat, I feel so ugly. I could be so beautiful if I were only a few kgs less. Thin people are successful, not losers who get rejections from PhD applications. I hate my life. I FUCKING HATE IT.

Perhaps damage control is the only thing I can do now. I'll prepare for tomorrow; do some research for the job positions; get my clothes ready and maybe even have a shower. I'll likely have the house alone after my parents go and drop off my nephew, so I suppose that's a window to purge. It's my fault, I fucking fell asleep when I should have been more proactive.

The early bird catches the worm, the late one feels a passive aggressive sense of failure with his life.

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