Why is it that I get borderline suicidal at this time of year?
Seriously...for the last four years I've started to go a bit crazy around mid November to early February time.
I really don't want to be at uni anymore. OK so this is something I say every year but it's a lot stronger this time around. I don't write anymore aside from this lame excuse for a blog and have the lecturers from hell which just DO NOT help. There's Simon, the rudest - and yet dullest - man in the universe with nose hair resembling something out of Day of the Triffids and Ian, who means well but his lectures are hard to stay awake in the majority of the time (at least he's helpful when you need him though). It's more than just annoyance with Simon; he actually makes me feel physically sick whenever he's too near me. It's not the slight cloud of stale cigarette smoke that seems to follow him around, the crooked yellow and black teeth or the faint aroma of hard liquor that does it...it's just something about him. After years and years worth of therapy, my aversion to people - especially men - has more or less diminished, but he seems to bring all those horrible frightened feelings back and I can't bare to be in the same room as him. My skin crawls and, last lesson, I actually felt like I was going to cry the closer he stood near me.
I know it's my final year and all that jib-jab, but I honestly have no idea what I'm doing in that place anymore and as for classmates...I feel more distant than ever.
Then there's work of course: Lush...my dream job...my dream job that has so far gone completely tits-up.
I sometimes feel like I'd rather be employed to suck off David Hasselhoff than have to fake smile and act chirpy all the way through an 8 hour shift just to get my boss get off my back about the whole "I'm watching you...you may loose your job" shit. I love most of the customers that come in and have a laugh with my workmates, but he makes me feel like the most useless person on the shop floor...I'm still not properly till and gift trained (I have brought this up many times, but sod all gets done!!!).
There's a whole heap of family crap and Emma crap going on too (I'm not going to bother boring you with that again) and it's just making me feel like I want to hurl myself off a bridge.
I should be happy by now: 5 years of therapy to get rid of the ghosts and learn the social skills I severely lacked, loving parents, a fair education, a boyfriend, good friends, a job...something just isn't right. People aspire to this...I've got it but it's just not doing anything.
I tried to speak to Ben about things yesterday. I got tearful and told him how I feel; that I can't stand life right now. He went through the usual motions: stopped me before I got into uncomfortable territory, gave a hug, did silly things to try and make me laugh. It didn't work very well, so he got to his last resort - sex if you're interested - and it all helped for an hour or so but I still felt crap in the long run. He listens but never seems to understand. I told him how I've been feeling about classes with Simon, and how I either can't go in the room or can't stay a full lesson and his response was "It's not hard...just keep your bum on the seat and you won't walk out." and "It's probably work stress flowing into other things."
I sometimes feel like I should go back into therapy. Originally they were going to cart me off to some other place where I'd be taught how to live a happy-ish, solitary life (learn how to enjoy my own company, work from home, deal with strangers who need to check meters etc) because apparently everything else the world throws will probably be too much for me to take, but I turned it down in the hope of changing myself. Doesn't seem to really be working anymore.
I don't really know what this blog is about...the ramblings of a woman left on her own to dwell on things in a post-coital train wreck?
I don't even know if what I've said makes sense. I don't even think I as a person make sense.
I suppose the bottom line of all this is that I'm depressed, lonely and in need of at least 10 years worth of sleep.
If you've read any of this shit then you truly are a trooper.
As is customary on this blog, I'm going to leave you with a song. They usually have nothing to do with what I've posted about and are just things I've fancied listening to on ze old iPod.
7 years ago