||[May. 19th, 2009|08:57 pm]
I figured I should update; it's been a mere 2 weeks (according to the nice piece of code that logs when I last posted) but it feels like longer. I haven't really been able to write anything of any worth for some time now. I think I've gone stale. Or lost the 'creative spark'. Not that I really possessed it. |
Regardless, my life in the last few weeks has been odd; there has been the stresses of handing in final essays and worrying over my dissertation (and contemplating whether trying to burn down PH's office would be completely inexcusable or not) and the stresses of having to deal with other's stresses. R has been full of worry over assignments and revision. Possibly due to the outcome of his first exams last year, which meant the nasty repercussions of retakes. I have been feeling depressed of late, I'm not entirely sure whether it's down to new hormones or what. I had the implant removed from my arm and am now on the mini-pill which so far seems okay, but the moods are way down. Whether this is hormone-based or not is unclear.
After some deliberation, I signed the contract for the house next year. Which means in July I get my very own lovely big room, adorned with shelves to house my many books! Hurrah!
Other than that, it has been work, and seeing friends. Gwyn and I went to the art gallery last week and afterwards we wandered into town for coffee. She bought me a teacup necklace, it's adorable! She seems a lot better than she was, I think this is largely due to being taken off Prozac. That stuff is the work of the devil.
I have learnt to play poker in the last few weeks, albeit badly. I've lost quite quickly when I've played, perhaps I need to develop a better skill at lying. The problem is, I feel so uncomfortable with lying, even when it is a very minor lie that would have no consequences. An innate sense of doing good overtakes me and I always ending up blurting out the truth, for better or for worse.
Whilst the others were playing chess last week, Luke and I decided to read the Bible for a while. It is quite literally the most ridiculous book I have ever read. Especially the part about Sodom and Gommorrah, and Lot sleeping with his daughters to father children. It quite sickens me. It just seems to have a complete absence of sense, or common decency. But I guess that is not really required for the 'word of God'. Funny how under the guise of religion, anything can be said. Perhaps the society of old saw this and used it as a potent buffer against criticism. Awful.
K has a new girlfriend. Although they are not technically in a relationship, since she is not entirely over her ex-fiance. Maybe it is not the best relationship (or pseudo relationship) for him to be getting into since he has completely changed and now acts like an adoring puppy around her.
Christ. I was in Peter Rhodes today with RS, quietly talking (about politics and my as-yet-undecided political stance, although I feel I am leaning towards the Conservatives) and Kate Middleton I think her name was, decided to come and talk to (or at) us. She talked for about 45 minutes. She seemed to be the kind of character who likes to try and shock people. Firstly there was the discussions of sexual abuse, the multitude of references to how she has shocked people before, and the fact that she used to be a man. After a while, I admit I shut off, but had to keep politely smiling and nodding so she didn't start crying or get angry. Which I believe is something she may well have done. She was clearly a sociopath; no normal person would reveal such information to strangers. I believe perhaps she was desperately seeking attention, and approval.
Psychobabble. R came with me to therapy again this morning. After he had left (having given his obligatory 'everything's okay' nod) I discussed a book I had read recently on eating disorders, citing the mother-daughter relationship as key to the formation of bulimia. Sadly, I did see my life reduced to a case study in a book, which may be a narrow view, but everything was true, aside from the detail of the alcoholic father. Odd. Sometimes I'm not sure of my identity and reduce myself to the problems of eating and emotionally unbalanced. Who am I without these characteristics?