- Mental Junkyard… mind the dogs

no title	Oct 16th, 2007 11:30:27 pm - Subscribe
I'm still repulsed by myself. I've managed to gain a stone in weight since i stopped the meds, and overall two and a half stone since I quit smoking. I told my partner yesterday that I feel like I'm wearing a fat suit. The worst part about it is that by floundering like this, stagnating, dying a day at a time... indecisive and unhappy, they've won. Every fucker I've ever been paranoid about has won. Every fucker who's hurt me, including myself, seems to be winning the battle to destroy myself. I hate my university degree. I hate my life. I despise myself. And I know saying that I hate my life really calls into attention problems I must be having with my interpersonal relationships, but maybe there is a problem there. Maybe I need to just go stay with friends for a couple of days. I'm feeling low, feeling shit... feeling drained and unhappy. Lying when I can muster the energy. All the time in the back of my head is "whats the friggen point". My partner is sick of bashing his head against a brick wall with me and so he's given up trying to fight with me for uni and he's backing right off. I've missed a class this morning. I should have stayed at home. I got here with an hour of the two hour tutorial left and couldn't suck it up enough to show my face in the room. I'm paranoid. its crippling. And you know what the worst thing about all of this is? The worst thing is that this is what people deal with every day. Every fucking day the 'normal' people get themselves to class on time, deal with the people around them, get education, get jobs, manage their weight. I can't seem to give enough of a shit about any of these things to get myself organised. I know that freedom lies just around the corner for me. All I have to do is finish the semester... but I'm so tired of waiting. I'm so unhappy with everything that I need some breath of fresh air now... but life isn't like that. I want to get a decent therapist. Someone to talk to once a week. But I've been so fucking screwed over by the MH services that therapy has become a complicated issye about time and travelling and of course, money. I need to see someone. I need structure, help, coffee... I wish just once someone would make me a coffee that was 'just right' and not too fucking hot to drink. I don't want to scald myself. Maybe I should stipulate that next time. Less whinging. More working.
mood: repulsed	(0) comments