C Preparation and the Psychic iPod

Wednesday night, post-Apprentice.  That means one thing: it’s almost C time.

I mentioned here that I had told C about this blog, and that in some ways I would like him to read it, because it is easier to express myself here, and I think it would be insightful for him in relation to his treatment of me.  I forget things when I get there.  Of course, C has better things to do than read thousands of words of miserable litanous dirge from me.

So I have made him a summary list, which – in no particular order – is as follows:

Problems Related to Being Mental

  • Insomnia
  • Narcissism
  • Fear of abandonment
  • Anger and frustration
  • Misanthropy (perhaps more accurately anthrophobia?  But is this really a problem?)
  • Severe pessimism and cynicism (again, is this really a problem?)
  • Emotional (or lack thereof) shite.  Fear of being vulnerable.
  • Mania / delerium – ‘positive’ / negative / mixed – various physical and mental manifestations thereof
  • Self-hatred
  • Suicide ideation
  • Desire to and fixation with self-harm
  • Stupid fantasy world
  • Over-reliance on C, apparent desire to “protect” him
  • Trying to work out what C is doing in his therapy and analysis – too much intellectualising
  • Seeing portents and signs re: my mentalness everywhere (eg.in songs).  Possibly related to narcissism?
  • Guilt issues re: anger and my perpetual criticism of others  -> post-morteming my behaviour
  • Work
  • My present dolescum status hate it hate it hate it
  • My psychiatric problems are indulgent
  • Panic attacks and anxiety – recent examples: Occupational Health, busy Tesco
  • Extreme paranoia bordering on delusional beliefs (eg. conspiracy theories re: work / OHS)
  • Depersonalisation
  • Personification of my car and other inanimate objects, ‘cute’ things, animals -> upset when one of these is damaged or hurt (generally this does not apply to humans)
  • Phone phobia
  • Normality = semi-functional but employing ‘happy face’ whilst internally miserable and disillusioned as fuck
  • Constant need for self-analysis
  • Fixation with death
  • Lack of interest in everyday activities – appearance, cleanliness, housework, cooking etc.
  • Loneliness
  • Poor memory, poor concentration, poor focus
  • Irritability
  • Obsessional behaviour and thoughts
  • Fear of being sane – cannot remember what things were like when I was.  At least I know being mental.

General Worries

  • Mum – petrified she will die.  Worry about her health.  Worry about the effects of my insanity on her.
  • A – ditto, except I don’t fear he will die – anything’s possible, but not that likely.
  • D & B – their relationship problems.  Cannot help.  Feel helpless.  Have no words of comfort.  Am a shit counsellor and shit friend.
  • Ditto other friends.  WANT to help them if they have problems but can’t.
  • WORK!  All bastards.
  • MONEY!  Have none.
  • Have absolutely no fucking prospects whatsoever.

Query: should I tell C about my desire to protect him and that I try to second-guess him and work out what he’s trying to work out?  I don’t want to in case he asks embarrassing questions.  But I believe, objectively, that I should.  Fuck.  Not sure on this at all.

Poor C; although the above is paraphrasing this blog, it is still a lot of fucking information and even then it is not exhaustive.  He will probably use the list as bog roll and I wouldn’t blame him.

I forced myself to the shower tonight, for what was probably the first time in about a week.  I know this is disgusting, but it is yet another symptom of my neurosis (or possibly psychosis?).  Anyhow, I had my iPod on random play whilst engaging in this non-fun activity – here is what it played to me, in this exact order:

Such a cheerful list, no?  Clearly my iPod reads my mind.  Either that or it is merely an example of me seeing portents and signs, as alluded to above, in things in which there are probably not portents and signs.  Either way, the playlist perfectly reflected my cunty mood.

I am not sure if I will be able to add to this diary tomorrow.  I do want to record week 11 with C of course, but MMcF and several of her hundred-thousand familial cock-members will be in attendance here at my mother’s house tomorrow, and even though I could sometimes quite happily stick a knife in their throats (this is deliberate hyperbole, Jacqui Smith – no need to send the cops round), being anti-social around them in any way, such as sitting here typing, is not worth my mother’s wrath or whinging.  Tomorrow night A, a few of his mates and I are going to a gig, so all in all it may be Friday, perhaps even the weekend, before I can write again.  I will note brief points on the C session as soon as I get back though so as I don’t forget the discussion.

Goodnight, lovely readership.

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