Last time I was here I was full of optimism and hope - I was going to do lots of things with myself. There was the orthodox lent challenge, and the swim challenge. There were challenges I didn’t write down, to avoid being a bum, to be a proper girl and get a skin care regime down. Many challenges. Lots of hope.
It didn’t quite work out that way. The vegan thing was fine, I was doing really well. Then I got sick, the mother thinks it’s related to the eating. Accused me of having an eating disorder and threatened to bring me home, so that I wouldn’t miss more class through time off sick. I still don’t follow the logic, but gave in anyway. I’m not sure it helped.
It’s been a really hard couple of months. In my world, I am everyone’s ‘person’. The person they come to for advice, for a hug, to rant at, to talk at. It’s nice. I’m good at it, and I suppose its flattering. It’s also crushing. My depressive issues flare up every so often. It’s not really a huge issue. I don’t even know what the issue is. I don’t have a reason to be sad. Sure I’m fat and single, but this isn’t something new. I am always fat, and always single. I’ve been cutting again, although I have gone a few weeks without now. Sometimes I feel proud of the achievement of not cutting. Mainly I feel stupid. Its not an achievement. Of all my friends, only my ex has noticed - he’s being lovely, and very helpful but what’s there to help when I don’t know what’s wrong. There’s nothing wrong. The only other person that knows about the cutting is a friend who is going through a rough patch with his bf, and the idea that he’s not quite sure if he’s gay any more. His (now ex) bf is one of my best friends, so I’ve been spending lots of time listening to his problems, trying to patch them both up. The cutting was brought up when we were both drunk. It’s not been mentioned, and he’s avoided me ever since. But it’s okay.
I think the major issue is that I can’t work anymore. I just sit. All day. Sit. Eat. I had a good week at the beginning of the easter vacation, got around half my workload done in a week. But then I went home, and have done nothing for a fortnight. It looks like this week is going to be the same - since I am writing about my uncontrollable desire to cut myself in a blog on the internet, rather than doing any work. I wish I could be stressed, to try and get myself into a state, so that I can work. But the stress also makes me cut, so that I can feel something that’s not stress. It’s a vicious circle. Oh well. Sitting is fine. I can deal with sitting. Maybe I’ll sit some more.