Food is fucking weird.
At least, I hope its food. I haven't been eating properly the last few days. Mainly due to bone idleness and a total lack of impetus to go and do some grocery shopping. I have no food in the house. Literally nothing, and I am spending a lot of my time starving. Its not that I can't afford it. One student loan and one wage packet later and I am more minted than I have been in a long time. I just can't find the will. Grocery shopping is so fucking boring it even the thought of it makes me depressed. Which leads neatly to why food is weird.
I know I only seem to write in here when I am miserable, depressed, having a bit of a crisis, but you know what? I DON'T FUCKING CARE! When I am happy I am too busy enjoying every last drop that I don't waste time writing blogs on here. I hope its the not eating, but I think it is more the reality that is crashing in around me. I REALLY want it to be the not eating, passionately.
I am having counseling a lot sessions every week to help me deal with all my shit and my counsellor is awesome. His name is Bob, like the builder, which is a fucking awful name for a counsellor, but he knows his shit. It is proving to be somewhat of a double edged sword though. All of my problems stem from me not being me, from me wasting my entire life up to RIGHT FUCKING NOW being the person that I think people will like and that I think people want me to be. I know that makes me a grade a loser, and I don't know why I got myself into that place, but here I am and I am finally getting out. This getting out is the aforementioned double edged sword.
As I slowly, painfully begin to learn who I really am I am also to starting to realise what a bunch of irritating, self-absorbed fucking losers my circle of friends all are. Maybe thats not fair. I mean all they are doing is being themselves, something I have been too gutless to do for years and so in that respect they should be applauded for it. I have wasted all this time chasing after other people, people who were nice to me and nothing else, in the hope that I will feel validated, satisfied, warm and welcomed.
These people, that I called friends for so long, are boring the shit out of me. I feel so alone right now because I have realised that the person I really am does not want to waste any more of his life pretending that he would fuck anything Japanese up the ass because it is Japanese, or pretending that memes are funny, or pretending that watching his mates - who he thinks by conventional terms are ugly to the point of wondering if they maybe have some kind disease to make them look like that - chasing and picking up women like it was a sport - thank you Neil Strauss, I eagerly await your postcard from hell - does not make him both furious and frustrated because all he wants is for a woman who isn't a size twenty seven or FUCKING INSANE to look at him and think "Yeah, I want that one."
I know I am ranting. I doubt there is anything particularly constructive in this blog. And if anyone in my social circle speaks to me about this blog I will be coming for Farmer and Wharmby like a bag full of grenades (nothing personal fellas, just how else would they know?). I just need to get it out there, because while it is in me it feels like it is clawing its way out of my chest like something Geiger cooked up on an off day. I have to go. They're back now, more than likely just so they can keep me awake after their deal with the devil to make it easier to destroy my life advised them I need some peace and quiet.
At least, I hope its food. I haven't been eating properly the last few days. Mainly due to bone idleness and a total lack of impetus to go and do some grocery shopping. I have no food in the house. Literally nothing, and I am spending a lot of my time starving. Its not that I can't afford it. One student loan and one wage packet later and I am more minted than I have been in a long time. I just can't find the will. Grocery shopping is so fucking boring it even the thought of it makes me depressed. Which leads neatly to why food is weird.
I know I only seem to write in here when I am miserable, depressed, having a bit of a crisis, but you know what? I DON'T FUCKING CARE! When I am happy I am too busy enjoying every last drop that I don't waste time writing blogs on here. I hope its the not eating, but I think it is more the reality that is crashing in around me. I REALLY want it to be the not eating, passionately.
I am having counseling a lot sessions every week to help me deal with all my shit and my counsellor is awesome. His name is Bob, like the builder, which is a fucking awful name for a counsellor, but he knows his shit. It is proving to be somewhat of a double edged sword though. All of my problems stem from me not being me, from me wasting my entire life up to RIGHT FUCKING NOW being the person that I think people will like and that I think people want me to be. I know that makes me a grade a loser, and I don't know why I got myself into that place, but here I am and I am finally getting out. This getting out is the aforementioned double edged sword.
As I slowly, painfully begin to learn who I really am I am also to starting to realise what a bunch of irritating, self-absorbed fucking losers my circle of friends all are. Maybe thats not fair. I mean all they are doing is being themselves, something I have been too gutless to do for years and so in that respect they should be applauded for it. I have wasted all this time chasing after other people, people who were nice to me and nothing else, in the hope that I will feel validated, satisfied, warm and welcomed.
These people, that I called friends for so long, are boring the shit out of me. I feel so alone right now because I have realised that the person I really am does not want to waste any more of his life pretending that he would fuck anything Japanese up the ass because it is Japanese, or pretending that memes are funny, or pretending that watching his mates - who he thinks by conventional terms are ugly to the point of wondering if they maybe have some kind disease to make them look like that - chasing and picking up women like it was a sport - thank you Neil Strauss, I eagerly await your postcard from hell - does not make him both furious and frustrated because all he wants is for a woman who isn't a size twenty seven or FUCKING INSANE to look at him and think "Yeah, I want that one."
I know I am ranting. I doubt there is anything particularly constructive in this blog. And if anyone in my social circle speaks to me about this blog I will be coming for Farmer and Wharmby like a bag full of grenades (nothing personal fellas, just how else would they know?). I just need to get it out there, because while it is in me it feels like it is clawing its way out of my chest like something Geiger cooked up on an off day. I have to go. They're back now, more than likely just so they can keep me awake after their deal with the devil to make it easier to destroy my life advised them I need some peace and quiet.