Category: General

26th September 2001, 14:29

Is it bad when you look down at your notebook and see the words misery,
darkness, pain printed in block capitals in neatly drawn squares printed
across the top of the page? Is it bad when you have to stop to cry on your
way to work, and when the idea of going to work makes you cry? Is it bad
when only one of your collegues actually speaks to you?

I don’t fit in here.

I don’t want to be here.

I need to get away.

I know it’s being accentuated by the lack of hormones.

I know that the stress isn’t helping

But that doesn’t change anything.

—

Kate E

Well, my mood has definately not improved, although it’s hard to say that when I’ve They Might Be Giants playing at me, a smile trying to creep onto my face….Okay. Good plan to put tmbg on then :/

Anyway. Yes. I think it might be mostly that I’m tired – which we can put down to me being very, very tired. I can feel muscles all over me just gently aching the way I used to after walking. I really want to go and go a sleep in a bath…which is a really bad idea….

Anyway, yes. I keep letting depression and misery rule my life far to much. This is not to say I have a solution – but I wish that it didn’t. I think this stuff with the “Legal action” is part of what’s keeping my mood low, that and my lack of movement on Java. Not because I can’t do it (that’s the most irritating thing – I can do it, I just need to get the energy but at the moment I want to hide under a rock most of the time. And right now I’m about as tired as I was before I went to bed….

I also proved something again today. When I’m low I have very little control on my spending. I did only buy stuff I really wanted, and even managed not to get Kid A, but I did get Black Market Music, Flood and Underwater Sunlight (all were on offer – a bit, but still).

Oh well. I’m bored this is the other problem. Without work to occupy me I’m bored – I won’t let myself do interesting “other” things because I feel bad about not doing Java – but just sitting around doing bugger all…that I manage to do…

Cack.

—
Kate

Well, Hmm. Should be doing Java – have actually been for about 20 mins, but am having trouble with my brain wandering. (Part of the problem is I’m essentially trying to re-write the stuff I wrote before, but nicer and neater – and every time I try my brain says “well, that should be in at least a seperate method, and probably in a separate class….and we could make it more efficent by doing X” so I’m trying to wait until I’ve settled a bit to think it through clearly – and see what I really want to do.

I’m also still deadly tired.

Anyway. I wanted to write a bit about being percieved as male in Little Chef, and I wanted to write about the stuff which happened on Saturday and my feelings and thoughts about that.

So, let’s start with Saturday. To some extent what happened with regards kissing and whatever is quite possibly my fault. Why do I think that? It’s not just a case of blaming myself – it’s knowledge gained from something which happened once before.

Way back when I first met my ex, before being a couple was directly mooted, one of my friends said to me words along the lines of “You’re a chronic flirt you know” and went on to comment on how I was flirting with her….Now I hadn’t realised I was doing this. It hadn’t crossed my mind to flirt, certainly not at any concious level. But next time she came around I ended up sort of watching myself. Not quite an out of body experience (<g>), but a sort of…well, just watching my behaviour.

And I was flirting. Now, from a sort of outside view it was obvious that I was flirting. But actually, try as I might I couldn’t stop myself. I just did it – and it was odd and slightly disturbing becuase I didn’t feel totally in control.

Now I suspect the same thing may well have been happening on Saturday night. I may well have been unconciously flirting with (quite possibly anyone near me)…The idea that I might be doing this does disturb me slightly though. Because if I am flirting then it’s the kind of thing which could get me into a situation I couldn’t handle.

I was with friends, and good people on Saturday night – so I was safe as it were. But in the real world it’s a bit different….so I think I’m going to have to watch that.

There was another aspect to it too. I know I’m not really ready for any kind of relationship. I want one but that doesn’t make me ready. I do want to be able to roll over and hug someone in the morning. I want to snuggle up to someone. But I’m simply too neurotic for any relationship to work. No one could cope with me falling apart the way I do quite so regularly – I mean, for example, becuase I’m tired atm I’m moody. I keep slipping near to tears for no good reason.

Although I’m finally beginning to feel a bit more comfortable with myself….and not hate myself the way I used to. I’m also beginning, just beginning to relax in the company of people I don’t know. I can now do one-on-one conversations fairly well, and managed some speech when I was out on Saturday. Not much, but some is better than none…

Another minor point is that despite being bi, I’m more “interested” in women…so attention from blokes, though nice is not quite what I’m after atm. I’m maybe not quite ready for that….(and there is someone I am very attracted to atm, but we’re not going to say who).

And now onto the incident in the little chef. And infact a bit of a witter on the whole ‘passing’ thing. Right. Yes…

When it happened, I was sat there eating my breakfast and I was quite upset to be honest. I’d passed all day saturday – not one person (at least no-one I’d heard) had called me “he” and so I was feeling pretty good! I’d even managed to maintain a conversation with a couple on the underground – and so was feeling pretty smug I suppose.

The “sir” on Sunday morning was somewhat of a shock to my rather happy mood then, and left me feeling rather distraught. What was I doing differently? I was dressed virtually the same (the teeshirt being pale blue instead of white – that was the only difference). I wondered if I’d not shaved as well, but then again I had passed on Saturday night, over 12 hours after I shaved. So that didn’t seem likely.

I have no idea what it was that made her say “sir” or the other waitress say “madam, sorry Sir”. I wish I did. The fact it happened I cannot deny, and it makes me feel quite sad. But less so than it could. Not just because I had a generally good day on Sunday but because I stopped on the way home from Aoifes, (I needed the loo, okay!), and got no odd looks for using the ladies, not one…so…what does it say overall? What does it mean? I don’t know. It’s just odd..It’s not like I behaved any differently in the Little Chef, it’s not like it was my voice, because she said sir before I’d spoken…..

So well. Urk….

And here’s another question….my dad just rang from work to suggest I make desert!!! Gah! I mean, he’s asked me to cook dinner many times before…but this is going too far….

Anyway, back to Java – although I need to get a card for someone….

Well, I’m knackered. I really need a shower (but can’t have one, Arrrggghhh), but I’ve actually had a really, really good weekend. I’m actually not feeling “on the edge” as I have been (by which I mean feeling okay – but any slight thing would tip me into being depressed).

Anyway, so, meeting Aoife. I think that went well tbh, We chatted, a lot, then went to Burger King and chatted for a long time. She’s also one of the few people who understands the “stop me buying this” (Kid A), and gently removed it from my hands….

I don’t know, I just had a really, really enjoyable evening. I don’t know what else to say…..

On other subjects – apparently switching of noachis terra was a Bad Idea. On Friday night it kept beeping, and on checking it appeared that one of the login screens was full of ‘-‘ symbols. Anyway, I moved the keyboard (pressed return actually) the new login came up….and I left it. It did it again. This time I made certain that nothing was pressing against any part of the keyboard (but was rather suspicious). It did it one final time, but I was off to bed, so I simply went for shutting it down to be sorted out when I came back.

On switching it on….the hdd made new and interesting noises. Then I noted that it failed to boot – complaining initially that it couldn’t mount the swap, then failing to load a file. Then dying.

Methinks that that new hdd will have to be ordered sooner rather than later. However it’ll have to wait until I have a job – which is really, really quite annoying as I can no longer play MP3’s. Also I was in london, I could have flown to a show and back…..but no, it is too late now….cack.

—
Kate

Written in “little chef”…..this is why I need a laptop….

Well, interesting. Saturday was definitely interesting. I awoke and moved before I had time to feel properly depressed. A cunning plan on my part I felt…..Anyway, I ‘flew’ (okay staggered) through the mornings ablutions and grabbed various random items – hoping to carry enough to keep me going all weekend….

Amazingly I navigated london without error – through the cunning plan of always being one road ahead. Although the differences between my seven year old London A-Z and the real things are beginning to show a little…..Anyway, after a long walk to the station my day was quickly made by people referring to me as female – with one old couple nattering away to me….It’s true tho’ that people will just talk to women. People never just started talking to me as male….or not at least anyone who I’d consider talking to….

So, having cleaved my way through the tourists (I still say a cattle prod’d be a good idea <g>) – I made it to the Chelsea Garden where I met up with some more afp’ers.

Shocking as meeting them was ;-) The hugs were very welcome, and I enjoyed a very nice lunch (this was despite Martin being a whole new level of messy animal….although he blames me, claiming I’m telekinetic ;-) before we moved on to going to terrify Thomas – and thence the pub.

To be hones not much happened at the pub, or at the other pub (which London Underground did their very best to stop us reaching)…. I did get fed icecream by a mildly inebrated Thomas (which was fun) and kissed by a rather amourous Martin….

(*Excuse spelling and typing, but I’m shattered*)

They also persisted in making me the centre of attention which was terrifying, but kinda nice of them (“Thanks” for arranging that Nikki *mutter*).

Returning to Thomas’ (with other afpers, you dirty minded lot ;-) was “interesting” – some people getting rather over amourous and me actually, for the first time in my life – having to draw a line and say “no”. Although by that time I was actually in my sleeping bag and the actual phrase was more like “Oi! Bugger Off!” – some thoughts on that whole thing when I’m more alert (when I wrote this I was alert enough, but not in the mood. Now I’m typing it up I’m to tired to be coherant).

Anyway, as I write this it’s 10:20 and I’m sat in a little chef, having had a surprisingly good coffee and a surprisingly awful cup of coffee. Today, in gender terms, hasn’t gone quite so well. I’ve been “miss”‘d, “madam”‘d, “sir”‘d and “madam, sorry, sir”‘d. (ed, 22:21 Comments when I feel more alert also…. – back to written stuff) If I think about it too much I’m liable to get upset.

Anyway, time to pay and go and head for Aoife :-)

13^th Oct 2000, 10:00

I have for once decided to pull a page. Not because I don’t feel what I wrote in it, but I feel bad because I put my friends in an unacceptable position. That of having to choose between two people. This I shouldn’t have done and I regret it.

My feelings may still be there, but I don’t feel I have the right to make people choose.

---

11^th Oct 2000, 1503

I’ve been editing this now for 40 minutes. 40 minutes when I should have been making my Java work…The anger which I felt has abated, I’ve relaxed. I’m still emensely pissed off, but my mind has wandered a bit, and I’m feeling a little more normal.

But I said many moons ago – I will not edit these diary entries, I will put up my thoughs such as they are though I may tone them down while editing once saved no change shall be made apart from spelling corrections.

So, below are my thoughts (well, they’re actually on another page)…but bear in mind they although similar to what I’m thinking – are not actually what I feel right now.

---

11^th Oct 2000, 1420 / 1450

Friends of my Ex may not want to read this one, I’m sorry that I gave in and wrote this, but she attacked me again today and I’m fed up of it.

And to my ex: I don’t give a damn what you think now. You’ve pushed me too far – too often for me to care about you. You or your demands for censorship rights to my diary when I comment on what you’ve said or done. Though now maybe I see why you wanted them. Don’t bother contacting me. I’m not interested anymore.

I awoke this morning (about 8 o’clock) to a general feeling of depression. A feeling which has only got worse as the day has worn on. I’m nearly 2 hours into it, I’ve nearly been in tears twice and I feel so generally down I want to hide in a corner.

To top it off my mum had a go at me while I was (attempting) to cook breakfast (disaster that that was)….just because she’s in a bad mood. I’m fed up of being stuck here in the middle of nowhere, I’m fed up of not having freedom, I’m fed up of my life.

I want to curl up in a corner and hide, but I can’t I should be doing Java. But becuase of the crap layout of my desk my RSI has made a fairly strong comeback (I used to get it in my right hand at Uni if I didn’t support my arms when typing. Now I’ve got it in my left hand to the extent that it’s painful now. It didn’t hurt when I started typing (although it was twinging in a “going to hurt” sort of way)).

And I’ve finally pulled a page from my diary. I did this of my own volition – it wasn’t because of anything else except my own feelings that I should not have put my friends in the postition I did. Of having to choose between me and my ex.

I may never wish to have contact with her but to make my friends choose as well, that was unfair and I regret that.

I’ve not felt this down for a while. I feel lonely – stuck out here with no human contact, and just so utterly depressed at my inability to get away from here. Before, when I had a job, I couldn’t afford even a single bedsit type thing. Now, with no job I can’t even dream of such things.

Well, I’m off to try and persuade myself to do Java. And probably more accurately curl up and hide.