CBT Session 1

So this evening I have attended my first CBT session. My therapist is younger than me, it did nothing for my issues. Sure she was nice and her water melon themed nails would have been charming in pretty much any other circumstances, but here in a delapadated health service building they seem to be laughing at me. “Why are your nails so depressed, in that deep red?” they chuckle. It’s an odd thing to have I ask yourself in session 1. “Are my nails telling people about my inside self?”….and also, “Did I pick this colour on purpose to put out there that I’m dark/sad?”. It’s a lot to take on board and also it means I have to think more deeply about my choices in the nail bar.

I feel I’ve come away from anxiety management with another thing to worry about.  Must try harder next week….and also probably concentrate on more important shit than my nails…I guess I may be making of light if this all with questionable humour. Huh. 

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Fml

sometimes life is just so god damn horrific there’s just nothing to be done but to wait for the dawn…… When the night is done there’s just sweet fuck all to be done about it. 

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Hazard of Self Improvement?

Life is better.

I no longer hate my job.  I changed job.  Now I rather enjoy my job.

I live a little cleaner.  I don’t get stoned any more.  It started to seem redundant and so I gave it up.

I still drink a fair amount, but in better situations and I always have liked a party.

I have a delightful man who is almost as depraved as I am and already knows me more and accepts me better than most.  We love.  Which is not just to say we are in love, though we are, but more that we actively love each other from the heart.  This is new to me and has proved to be a rewarding way to have a relationship.  Its honest and I like it.

I have done things that I will remember forever in the last few months.  Seen bands.  Read books.  Held my niece for the first time.  It has fed my bruised soul immensely.

I am a better friend, not perfect but better than I was.

So its all on the up.

Why am I still waiting for the crash?  Is it experience? Paranoia perhaps?  Or is it just an inevitable side effect of happiness?

Answers please on a postcard.

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sample

I loved once, a boy so beautiful through and through that he made a lasting impression in my soul.  He haunts my dreams and my waking hours alike.  He infiltrates my longings and my secret thoughts.  In the shower I yearn for him and crush myself into the dripping wall as though I could crush the need away.  But no such luck.  His warmth has touched my very core and there it lives still, forever killing me in my isolation from its source.  I catch, on occasion, his smell floating on the air, irreplaceable it hits me and I fall, heart first back into his intoxicating memory.  I love him.  But he is gone and so I am gone.  We are over, together.  I look now only to escape the endless nothingness that I live without him.  I look now only for an out.  

 

any thoughts??

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Waiting

I dont enjoy waiting.  Its not that Im impatient, Its just that it makes me anxious.  For example Im currently waiting for someone to join me and i was expecting them around half hour ago. Im now faced with a problem; when you text to see if someone is ok they always think you’re nagging/checking up.  So i continue to worry for fear of appearing negatively.  Then follows the second act in  my neurosis; now i worry that Im paranoid about the original situation and should just be adult and contact the missing member of my evening.  But alas paralysed with indecision i sit here still wondering what the fuck is up with my brain and other folk’s time keeping.

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Life

Today has been one of those where you wonder if there’s any way out at all..

I’ll be the first to admit I’ve made some bad choices and I know that my current world is almost entirely my own doing. This i know. But still I am filled with such rage. I have no clue how to fix any of it.  

I hate my fucking job. It makes me emptier every day.  Im broke as fuck.  Im bad with money.  I continue to make bad choices and I seem rather than to learn from my mistakes just to keep re doing them until it goes so far past not funny anymore i can barely stand it.

What the fuck is my deal anyway.  Perhaps Im stupid. Ive never counted myself as dumb but Im starting to wonder.

There are so many things id love to be and do and see and hear and smell and simply watch happen.  I want them all and I don’t know how to get there. Shit.

So theres a brief ‘in’ into my life.  

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