i've been around shitty people far too much in my life. my family, most of the friends i've had and lost, my peers at school... wall-to-wall cunts. is it any surprise that i'm a pretty bad human being deep down? it's not, and people keep excusing my behaviour/personality because of it, but it is just an excuse. ultimately i can decide to act or not act on my impulses and i invariably make the wrong decision. not even wrong in terms of outcome but morally wrong. i am not a good person.

having said that! i've been having a good time recently by being around people who are the complete opposite of shitty. i judge people straight away and those judgements rarely, if ever, change over time. they're almost always right. i can't actually think of someone i misjudged, ever.

i'm wary of writing anything personal on the internet now. a couple of weeks ago in Brick Lane somebody recognised me from 4chan while i was in a really bad mood and just wanted to be left alone. he had this ugly sarcastic smirk and talked to me like we'd known each other forever; stepped all over my boundaries and really bummed me out for the rest of the day. it made me realise that during the worst period of my life (mid 2010 to early 2012) i'd been talking to a lot of people i wouldn't even humour with smalltalk.

i still go to the gym a few times a week. i went hungover about 5 days ago. that was dreadful. then i went yesterday after a few days' absence, still recovering from the weekend's unprecedented drug use. that's not very interesting, though. i've really lost interest in the gym; i only go to maintain an athletic shape now, and my diet is all about keeping calories low while eating whatever i like to keep a good sixpack.

i NEED to have sex with somebody who isn't my ex-girlfriend pretty soon. i'm actually around really fit girls a lot now, but i'm not one of those guys who girls look at when i enter a room. or, maybe i am, but not for the reasons i want. it's really hard. i'm in pretty intimate situations with girls sometimes but i don't want to embarrass myself by trying to push it further and being rejected, you know? at a party last weekend i took pictures of this, uh, sexually liberated young lady on her back with her legs wide open, then we gave each other massages. if i describe that to you you might imagine something could have happened, but definitely definitely not. i'm not like a catalyst for this sort of behaviour, it just happens around me and i happen to be there and i'm not so disgusting that my presence alone is enough to kill it. wow that sounds pathetic.

i might have a part-time job. i went into a coffee shop a couple of days ago and talked to one of the girls working there. she told me they're hiring and i gave in my CV today. i think she must have said something to the manager because he didn't even want to interview me; i have a trial next week. so that's something, huh? i like coffee, and cafés have a nice atmosphere. this isn't Starbucks or equivalent; it's gourmet shit and a bit more chilled. the girl is pretty cute too.

other than that, i've just been reading a lot. i bought The Prince by Machiavelli, Meditations by Marcus Aurelius, Sickness unto Death by Kierkegaard and The Symposium by Plato. i'm in a little phase where i want to soak up wisdom and think seriously.

i went home to see my cousin yesterday, which was great. i missed her. she got really excited when i turned up and sat next to me at the table in the kitchen while i ate, keeping her hand on my arm the whole time. i love being around her; she's the only person in my family i feel a real bond with.

i got sick almost two weeks ago and it's been pretty rough. i haven't been able to go to the gym and i'm just knackered all day. can't sleep either. stupidly, i've been smoking even more because i'm not going out. i really want to stop smoking weed. when i'm semi-sober, i get a much more positive reaction from people, i feel more articulate and less self aware. i went to therapy on Tuesday and i missed the scheduled time by four hours. he didn't even charge me extra because he said he can see i'm not in a place where i can be expected to keep appointments right now. that sort of stung, actually. i am pretty fucked up lately.

hopefully i can meet some cool people with this job. i'm so fucking bored.

i lurk /mu/ and recently discovered Death Grips. i haven't been listening to anything but Exmilitary and The Money Store for about 3 days. they're playing Brighton next month and i might go.

i'm in a slight rut. Sunday was awful; i didn't actually realise it was a trance night and it looked like all of Essex had turned out. i split a gram of some dreadful crushed up amphetamine bought from a sketchy cunt  with my mates and didn't feel much of anything but awake. i definitely wasn't feeling the music or the people.

the day before that i hung out with another guy i haven't seen in a couple of years, which was good. his girlfriend is cool too. i like hanging out with couples. i feel like i have all these people in my life i can occasionally spend a day with but no real... friends. i'm okay though. my therapist is away this week so i didn't have that today. i'm so bored during the day i end up wandering around Westfield or going into central for no particular reason. it costs a fortune to travel in London.

i asked someone i know about Amsterdam (he lives there) and he said he'd go out and party with me. maybe i should just go to Amsterdam for a week. i have some stuff on the horizon to look forward to but i feel myself slipping away a little every time i have an empty day.

today i did a pretty stupid thing. i went back to Meatliquor knowing that waitress would be working. i just wanted to know how she'd react. she acted like nothing had happened; just smiled and said hello. she remembered my name at least. when i was done eating she tried to chat to me but i wasn't expecting it and came off looking moody and resentful, which she made fun of.

the french girl i met a couple of weeks ago apparently DID like me and wants to go out again. i can't fucking work out women at all.

i want to help people with depression, i think. now that i'm not depressed and i see how fucking great life is, it kills me to imagine how many people out there feel the way i did the last 2 years right now: waking up every morning wishing you'd died in your sleep, nothing to look forward to, feeling ugly and boring and alone.

i am pretty shocked by the physical effects of depression, too. i looked like shit the last 2 years. suddenly, i'm happy and my skin is clear, hair looks good, i catch my reflection and actually like what i see. i'm drinking and doing drugs pretty much every night, i can't eat half what i used to and yet i feel so much more vital and strong.

i guess what i want to say to people going through it right now is that when you recover from it you won't recognise your world view, opinions or attitudes at all: they will be so far outside your reality when you're happy that they make no sense to you at all. for me, what got me over it was being social. just be around people you like as much as possible, and talk to them. fuck what they might think of you; interesting people will always divide opinions, and that's a good thing. it's better than being some boring cunt no one remembers.

i have reached a point where i have enough belief in myself to know that i can talk to people without drugs or alcohol, but i'm so used to relying on them i can't seem to give them up, or even moderate them, but i know it's having a detrimental effect on my life because i'm ALWAYS drunk or high, which means nobody ever gets to see the "real" me and often i'm too embarrassed to look at or speak to somebody because i know they'll see how fucking high i am straight away.

nothing happened with either of those girls despite my best efforts. i talked about it to a friend of mine last night and i pinpointed a couple of big mistakes i made: first, when i met that French girl and she mentioned she has a boyfriend, i should have just moved on because all she was doing was reminding herself of that while i was putting the moves on her, and i should have made her feel better by ignoring the subject entirely. instead, because i'm an idiot, i tried to use logic to argue that a long distance relationship doesn't work. she actually DOES want to end it with him, but that made her dig her heels in i guess. i asked her back to our flat that night and at first she agreed, then about 30 minutes later she changed her mind. what happened in those 30 minutes i'm not sure... social behaviour is so fascinating and hard to understand.

i don't even mind, really. every time i talk to a girl i feel like it goes a little better than the last time. it's all practise.

on the same day this French girl is coming round i'm watching a film with the Polish girl -- in my room. she's in the shower and then we're gonna watch Inception or Mulholland Drive. i feel pretty swag lately.

this will be hard to write because i didn't go to bed until 4.30 and i am really hungover.

last night i was supposed to be going out with my friends for a girl's birthday, but she cancelled our plans at the last minute so i was left with nothing to do on a Saturday night. however! my French flatmates were going out in Angel to meet a friend of hers (a French girl) and she invited me with them.

this was pretty fucking special, honestly. the French guy sat on the end of our group all night silently, looking miserable and mumbling one or two words every few minutes, while I entertained both his girlfriend and the new girl. who i really like, actually. i tried pretty hard. i talked to her for most of the night, i put my arm around her, held her hand, made sure to talk to the other two a bit so the focus wasn't solely on her, etc.

then towards the end of the night i find out she has some boyfriend in Paris she's going to see next week, and she wouldn't come home with me. fuck my life! i asked my flatmate (the girl) and she said she likes me, and she wants to break it off with her boyfriend, but i guess fucking a guy you just met when you're seeing your longterm boyfriend the next week is probably a line a lot of people won't cross. nevertheless, she is coming round today and i'll see what happens.

her name is Marie.

i am a cunt

so i posted something about girls on my Fitocracy and a guy i don't remember gave me a link to this Real Social Dynamics torrent. i am very dismissive of this type of thing; i associate it strongly with dickheads, but i swallowed my pride and gave it a look because i want to keep an open mind. and so far (it's bloody long; i watched a couple of hours) it's actually quite enlightening, since it's all about being happy with yourself and attracting people by having fun. i saw some of this stuff on VH1 or MTV years ago, and there was a giant douchebag in a top hat and leather trousers making a cunt of himself in front of the world. maybe this will develop into that as i watch more but so far i'm digging the self-help stuff. it's a shame the guy looks like a fat Billy Ray Cyrus but hey, whatever works.

what i found really interesting is how closely what he says mirrors my own experience with girls (and probably everyone else's, which is why it sells), right down to making an analogy between getting better at being social and lifting weights. i dedicated a lot of my life to getting good at weightlifting, and i am good at it, and people notice and know that i'm good at it, and compliment me on it. i want to apply that commitment to sorting out my social skills, because i know they need a lot of work. it's not really my fault -- i had a shit beginning in life, i was raised by people who never let me forget they weren't my parents and never made me feel welcome, i went to a horrible secondary school full of snobby, entitled, middle-class Essex pricks and had no friends, then i got bloody married and ran away to America. i'm literally starting from scratch here. but i'm not dead yet, and 26 isn't that old.

the unseasonal heat wave of the last few days has gone, and England is back to its grey, cold, windy self. which is depressing.

maybe everybody feels this alone? how can i even know that? i have no real relationships in my life any more, just people i know. and not many of them.

the Odd Future gig sucked. i'm really depressed now. it was full of white teenage shitheads getting into fights and being arseholes because they're listening to black people rap in Brixton. i felt embarrassed to be there and had a miserable time. the girls were nice to look at, but i can look at girls anywhere.

this will be a long dark night of the soul. i was in a bad mood earlier too, but i snapped myself out of it a little. i wanted to go home to see my cousin tomorrow but it means talking to the rest of my family, so that's probably not going to happen. i might go to Meatliquor to see if that girl acts like she doesn't even know me. why do i still care about that? because no other girl has given me any attention since her. are these real problems? they feel real to me; i know i have money and freedom, but the only thing i really want is to meet girls, so the money and time don't mean a lot to me.

i finally went to the gym today. first time in about two weeks, i think. i was going to lift yesterday but two of my friends came and stayed at my flat for a while, then i went out with one of them for drinks. it was alright. typical gym dickheads everywhere. every time i work out it reminds me why i didn't follow through with the PT thing.

tonight there's an Odd Future gig in Brixton. the same two guys and i are going to try and get tickets outside, because it sold out in about 5 minutes. their new album came out a week ago and i just got it from my mate last night. it is pretty fucking good. check out these songs: Forest Green, Rella, Oldie.

confidence has dipped a little today. i really need to at least go on a date with or kiss a new girl. it's all well and good going to parties and feeling girls up but that's not the same as getting laid. and i do need that validation and reassurance. i am a delicate little thing.

the Polish girl brought me home some cake, which is adorable, but then i sent a flirty text suggesting we share them tomorrow with a winky smile and she sent back this stoic Eastern European gibberish: "As you remember I am on a permanent diet and can't eat at night. That is why don't worry about me. Have a good day." yeah, cheers! time to give up on that one, probably.

the Polish girl stayed up until 1 a.m. with me talking last night. not a big deal in and of itself, but she gets up for work at 7... and she's always in bed by 10. when i walked in on her, she was talking to her mum on Skype. her mum said i'm her type in Polish (she translated) and they both giggled. it was going so well and she sat next to me, but then the French couple asked if they could take a joint's worth from me (which they always fucking do, and never repay it, because only English people have any manners) and for some stupid reason i insisted they could but only if they sat in the kitchen with us (because i fancy his girlfriend and he's a dork).

after that the Polish girl stayed with me and talked, but it felt a little different. she's very disapproving of drugs, which i get: she's from a traditional country. i asked her out but i dunno if we'll actually do anything. awkward!

oh! before i went to bed she made a joke about the time and said she'd wake me up at 7 so i'd know how she feels tomorrow morning. i said she can come into my room any time she wants and she was like "LOL you wish". but in a cute way, you know! it's banter.

i talked about the party a little bit on Fitocracy, and extensively in therapy this afternoon, but i'll write a bit here while it's relatively fresh in my mind. it was pretty crazy; girls were getting naked everywhere, people having sex in the middle of the floor, i got to feel a pretty hot girl's tits on the floor (which didn't escalate because i have no idea how to do that) and a reaaaaally hot girl's arse in a pub before the party even started. it got gatecrashed by some horrible people from Angel who really killed the atmosphere by harassing the girls and being generally unpleasant. it kicked off a couple of times. some guy stomped someone in the face for talking shit about him, apparently.

the best thing about the party was seeing my friend, who i lost touch with for a good couple of years during my depressed recluse period. this guy is maybe the most interesting person i know, both in terms of life experience and the conversations i can have with him, and he makes me feel comfortable all the time and looks out for me. he spent most of his night at the party introducing me to everyone and getting girls to feel my stomach, because that's what he does. his new girlfriend, who i had never met before, is amazing. the kind of girl i hope i can marry someday. i guess my friend talked me up to her a lot because she was immediately so familiar and affectionate (even before the MDMA!). it's weird; in this situation, ordinarily i would fall in love with the girl and hate myself, but maybe because i love being with them both so much and they're obviously so happy together, i'm actually happy for them.

but the best part of the weekend was still her cuddling on my lap back at their flat (non-sexual). oh, i carried her part of the way home on my back too, which made me feel pretty manly.

adjusting to regular life after a weekend like that is very hard for me, because it's still such a new experience. i definitely need a job; i'm bored and restless all the time now, and i can't keep still.

i had two therapy sessions this week. i was very depressed when i met him on Tuesday but came away from the session in good spirits. oddly, yesterday i was super happy and therapy sort of took my mood down a couple of notches. which isn't actually a bad thing -- i am quite overwhelmed by my mood changes sometimes, and it is good to get some perspective not only when i'm depressed but also when i'm bouncing off the walls, because i am the exact opposite of myself depending on how i feel, which means i am arrogant and confrontational when i'm happy. i see that now, though, and it doesn't mean i'm a cunt, it's just something i've got to work on. probably because i'm so used to feeling bad about myself, when i get some serotonin going upstairs, i'm like a 16 year old getting drunk for the first time. i can't hold my serotonin. or liquor.

i'm just waiting about to meet my friend for drinks before this party tonight, which i am fucking psyched about.

house party tomorrow night! there will be MDMA, actual models and loads of film/TV people. what a charmed life i lead lately.

m8

the internet has been down in our flat all week. a few months ago i might have just gone back to Romford and put up with my awful family just to have fast broadband, but i don't really care now. it means that every night i sit in the kitchen with my housemates talking. until the French guy came and interrupted i was having a pretty nice chat with the Polish girl. he's fucking weird. like he'll keep on about a really pedantic point for ages after anyone cares, and he's one of those people who is really into weed. like, not smoking it, because everyone likes smoking it, but he wants to talk at length about different strains and growing methods and i can't think of a more tedious subject except maybe motorbikes.

it's weird with the Polish girl. i'm quite friendly with her now, and she laughs a lot when we talk, but i'm not good at moving from "friendly" to "flirty", really. i don't have the experience. a friend of mine keeps telling me about that awful "pick-up artist" stuff. he means well, but i've told him a hundred times i'm not interested and i think those guys are twats. i don't like to offend people, but really: those guys are all fucking losers.

uh... my girl Spanish housemate sat with us after the Polish girl went to bed, and smoked a bit, and her "friend" came over at about 10.30pm, but because i'm an idiot i didn't think that if a guy comes over that late, he's probably coming over for sex, so i just sat there and talked to him in English for about 2 hours while she sulked in the corner, lol! he was an awesome guy. pretty far out of her league, i would have thought. i know a couple of people like him, and they're typically the most interesting people i've ever met: Europeans who are fluent in English. he works freelance with puppets, facilitating shows in theatres around London and working with people with learning disabilities. how cool is that?

i'm supposed to be going drinking tonight with the French couple and maybe the Polish girl. the French guy's girlfriend is fucking fiiiiit. she's French but her heritage is African. mixed race French girls are sexy as hell. she is way too good for him, and i am relentlessly hitting on her. see you later, m8.

DTF

in my last post i mentioned i talked to my Spanish housemate all night. last night, because the internet has been down here for a couple of days, we were feeling more social and i sat in the kitchen for a few hours with him and the Polish girl, who is very fit and who, it turns out, was listening to everything we said the other night, including the bit about me wanting to fuck her. and she was really pleased. i don't know if it's a cultural difference or language barrier but she took it as a big compliment to her attractiveness, so that's good. and said she couldn't help listening because i have a voice "like on the radio" that makes her want to listen. and then she told me a story about two elderly customers in her coffee shop who commented on her figure and i eyefucked her pretty blatantly.

she's very shy though; when i showed her something in my room a bit later she hesitated on the threshold and asked if she could come in(!)

i don't know if eastern european girls are DTF. it's hard to tell, because i'm shit at reading girls.

post-therapy

i feel a lot better today. therapy was very constructive. i did get some perspective on the things that have upset me over the last week, and i have realised that nothing has actually changed in my life. all the things i'm upset about are to do with feelings of rejection, which is the one thing in life i'm most afraid of, so it's probably not surprising that i lost my shit completely over the last few days.

i find this process to be almost essential in my life now. there's never been anyone i could talk to about this kind of thing for an hour at a time without feeling like i'm boring them or being self-indulgent... which of course, i am, but i'm paying for that privilege, so i'm not embarrassed by it. i always rejected the idea of therapy because i associate it so much with medication and brain chemistry, but this is psychoanalysis, which is completely different to the therapy i did when i saw a psychiatrist. that was pretty awful. he looked at me like a specimen in a petri dish and i felt like i was telling him all this raw emotional stuff from my life and he was cutting out the details and looking for patterns that fit examples he's seen in textbooks. plus i reject the whole concept of antidepressants. i will try almost any drug, but not antidepressants.

anyway, after the session i had a bit of a spring in my step again, walked around smiling. i generally feel a lot better. i wanted to wallow in my depression last night but my massive Spanish flatmate who looks identical to Clive Owen sat in my room literally all night, which was great. i love making connections with new people; it's the only thing that makes me feel alive. would be better if it happened with a girl, of course. i need to fuck the shit out of somebody, i think. that's the best possible solution to this mess.

every time my phone vibrates my stomach kind of drops and i hope it's a text from that waitress. it is retarded how much hope i invested in that girl.

another day

i went to Westfield with a friend for a couple of hours today. we talked about depression a lot, and feeling hopeless, and tried to convince each other why we shouldn't feel that way. it didn't work. i actually feel more desperate now than i did yesterday. i thought about going home earlier to see my 3 year old cousin, because she's the only person in my family who likes me and i love her. i can't face the rest of my family, though. i don't know when i'll see or speak to any of them again.

i've been thinking about going to another country for a while. to a hostel, and i will be somebody completely different and try to leave all this shit behind. i probably won't do anything, though. i'm so tired again now. it's like i lost all my energy overnight. and i'm sick. there's a lot of blood in the back of my throat, i soak through any shirt i put on in 5 minutes and i ache everywhere. i feel like i'm dying. i feel just the way i did the last 18 months, only now i don't have my girlfriend, or anyone else.

i have this site bookmarked, lostallhope.com, that gives practical advice on suicide. it says jumping in front of a train is fatal almost all the time, but i don't know if that's only including statistics from suicides who jumped in front of trains over a certain speed. i remember watching The Bridge, a documentary about suicides on the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco, and they film several people jumping. i couldn't look away but it was one of the saddest things i've ever seen.

tomorrow afternoon i have a therapy session.

bad weekend

today, i waited all day for a reply to a text. in the morning i tried to go to the gym, so i got the train to Liverpool Street, and the Fitness First there was closed, so i got back on the central line to Oxford Circus to use the one on Kingly Street that is open 24 hours; also closed. trudged back home, went out twice to wander around London just to take my mind off this girl, which didn't work. a lady in a black cab hit me with the door on Oxford Street because she swung it open without looking. i turned round and said 'what the fuck, lady?' but she apologised so i'm not even mad.

oh, i also feel like my friends are deliberately excluding me from things lately and i'm not speaking to anybody in my family. it's concerning how precarious my mood is: i think suicide has always been inevitable for me on some level.

/emo

hello

hi, i'm Alex. i'm 26 years old, i live in a shared flat in Bow, East London and when i was 5 both my parents died and i inherited some money. when i turned 18, i was entitled to about £100,000, which i later learned was the income generated by the trust set up after my parents' death. i lived at home back then, with my grandparents and sister, and had no idea what the cost of living is, so this seemed like a huge sum of money to me. i couldn't concentrate at university because i had bad social anxiety and wasn't able to socialise with anyone except my room mate, who i spent every day of the year with, getting high and playing Counter-Strike, but also because i had so much money in my current account and everyone else was broke and i'd been seeing a girl from Florida for about a year and skipped uni all the time to visit her.

that girl later became my ex-wife. when i think back to my brief life in Florida (less than 2 years), they don't feel like my memories any more. they're so far removed from my life here, i can't reconcile the two. anyway, after i dropped out of university in my 2nd year, i spent a year working part time in GameStation, Barking, which was good. i still had the social anxiety, especially around girls, and hadn't learned how to present myself yet, but i was pretty happy having a routine to follow and chatting to customers and my co-workers. after a year there, i emigrated to the USA after a successful marriage visa application process that cost about two grand and was the most stressful experience of my life. spent about 18 months there before i broke up with my wife. i wasn't happy; i'd settled down with the first girl who showed any interest in me and felt robbed of my youth. i came back to London and moved to Brixton with a friend of mine, and there began A Good Year. i dated a lot and went out a lot and smoked a lot and for a while i was happy. i started posting on 4chan's fitness board under the alias "tinytrip" because the novelty of being ripped was so overwhelming and i didn't have the confidence IRL to express it, so i used that place as an outlet, with amusing but also unhealthy consequences. after a year, my flatmate moved abroad for work and our lease expired, and i was running out of money and not entitled to more until the following year. i moved back home with my grandmother and quickly fell into the worst depression i've dealt with so far. i stopped going out, lost whatever friends i thought i had, stopped meeting new girls, fell into another unhappy relationship for company and for the first time i was broke.

having no money is probably a good test of character, and i didn't pass: i nearly didn't make it out of this depression, even after i got my money and moved back to the city into a new flat. i used to take these torturous walks around the South Bank and Westminster, listening to the most miserable music in my collection ("Hospice" by The Antlers got a lot of play during this period), staring over the bridges at the Thames, wondering if they were high enough to jump from.

i don't remember how this happened, exactly. i had a couple of people i could call to make plans with, and i think i was round someone's house with a couple of other mutual friends i'd only ever seen there before, and one of them had brought his girlfriend. she said i was funny and invited me to a house party she was having in a few weeks. she asked me twice and was so enthusiastic that even through the fog of depression and insecurity i took it as a genuine invitation. a few weeks passed and i went to the party. initially it was as bad as any other party i'd been to in my life: i tried to stick by my friends because i couldn't talk to anybody else. but after a few drinks i loosened up a bit and started chatting to a few other people. then my friend brought out some MDMA and i thought, fuck it, my life is so miserable -- i would be stupid not to take a shitload of it. i had tried it a few times before, but either my mood wasn't right or the stuff was shit because it hadn't done much of anything. initially i thought the same thing had happened after i took some of this. i completely shut down for a while and sat in a corner by myself. my friend told me to do another dab and i trusted his advice.

about 30 minutes later i felt this wave of complete refreshment and wellbeing crash over me, and suddenly the drowsiness from alcohol and weed was gone. i felt like i'd never have to sleep for the rest of my life and desperately wanted to share what i was feeling with everybody around me. i spent the rest of the night getting into all sorts of trouble; i accidentally insulted a young Army sniper and got into a huge argument with a woman in her late 50s about the invasion of Afghanistan. after a time most of these people left and there were maybe 10 or 15 of us in one of the girls' bedrooms, all lying on the bed and floor, listening to my iPhone. this was a big deal to me, because i love music and take pride in my listening habits, but i was also high as fuck on MDMA so all my music was blowing my mind. i had this really intense conversation with a friend of mine deciding whether i could conceivably play "Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes" at a grimy house party in South London, and i did.

after this night, and after i sobered up, the memory of those social interactions stayed with me, and my anxiety and depression just seemed to have lifted overnight. i've been out with these guys a few times since, once to another house party that was even better, another time to a burlesque club which was also good, and now for the first time in my life i feel quite comfortable with who i am. i've been doing psychoanalytic therapy for about a month now, and it's been like a sanctuary for me. every week i spend an hour unloading everything i've felt in the last 7 days and get some perspective on it. i come away from the sessions feeling weightless and with new insight.

so now i'm happy, right? i realised i have a lot of money and i can talk to people and a lot of them like me. but every time i have a day to myself, i can feel myself falling back into depression, and it's only with conscious effort to understand that pattern that i've prevented it happening. for instance, today i've been waiting since 1pm for a reply to a text i sent this girl i'm going out with on Monday. she replied to one last night, and works late shifts, but nothing today. this has sent me into a neurotic tailspin and today has not been good. i want to be in a place where if something like this happens, it doesn't completely disrupt my life.

i smoke too much weed, and i need to get a job, and i can be a complete dickhead when i feel confident or an insufferable depressive loser when i don't. i had a pretty bad time growing up in what's left of my family. i have so much baggage, i wonder if i'll ever be happy. here i'll document some days in my life, good and bad, because i'm not embarrassed to say i want to share it with people.