wound

I have felt terribly sad for about two weeks now. It is getting really wearing and I am scared I will not stop feeling like this.

I feel hurt, betrayed, unhappy, lost, uninspired, abandoned. There is no cure but time. Talking about it might help but I feel so utterly foolish, I cannot really bring myself to.

And this only makes it worse because spending time pretending I feel okay is exhausting.

this I know

I cannot seem to stay happy at the moment. I feel like I've dropped through a hole somewhere, like my steady mood has been forgotten on a shelf. I am not high then low, rather merely okay and then really, really not okay. I haven't felt like this in so long.

When I went to bed last night I had a headache and I couldn't sleep. I don't really know what's wrong other than of course, of couse it's linked to how difficult getting started in law is proving to be and of course I am fed up and yes, I am very dramatic about it. I am very bored of feeling like this.

I was in central London today, having left my Oyster card and ipod at home, not a good start. I wanted to cry as I walked from New Bond Street, up Regent Street, along Oxford Street, there for no real reason other than I couldn't stand the silence at home.

Wow, that's self-indulgent. I'm going to book my aeroplane tickets to LA.

still

Another rejection from another job today.

Most times I'm fine with this I really am just not, today.

It's exam time and I've got a cold and I'm unhappy and FUCK.

Each rejection makes you stronger, blah.

sharp

A favourite blogger has been describing her break up. Her experience wrenches horrible familiarity in me.

I am too scared to write about him, despite eighteen months distance.

I am exhausted today. I have been short with my flatmates all week. I cannot concentrate.

I wrote more than this, originally. I cannot post it. Perhaps this will be catharsis enough.

pfo

...
I don't even want to be a lawyer.

Not surprised, but rather fed up.

where I am

I feel soulless. Not in the indulgent way I occasionally ignore any moral compass I may possess, but spineless, weightless. A grey uneasy rest.

I do not love the law. I will never love the law. I cannot do this for the rest of my life.
I do not think I can do this at all.

A phone call; I say what has been building in my throat for days I despise that I let myself do this.

I cannot bear the drudgery. Discussion of statute is not debate, application of rules and attempting to sidestep difficult tax issues is not intellectual or exciting or anything but work any person willing to push solidly through these pages of bullet points could do.

Fuck, let's hope I'm as fickle as usual and change my mind by morning.

the drawback

The one thing I really need to talk about, I can't. I just can't, not even offline.

Didn't sleep well and now just want to wallow. That won't help. Up I get.

well

...that was overdue.

An hour, a few buckets of tears and a confession of fragility later I'm still at home when I should be in the city.

I am tired, unwell, back to the bottom step.

...

wherein I am frustrated

I have a presentation due on Thursday, about a Roman villa no one cares about unless you are daft enough to read Archaeology at university. I am tired and fed up of writing notes on the excavation reports, scanning 20 colour plates and trying to collate it all into a coherent 10 minute piece that not even my supposedly academically inclined classmates will care about. It isn't even assessed, doesn't count for a point of credit, and yet it has enveloped my life these past few weeks.

University work at the moment, it makes me want to cry, like I used to over my Maths homework, balled into frustrated sobs. I am tired. I hardly see my friends. My best girlfriend lives two minutes from my door, and yet I have not seen her in a week. I wasted two hours today in a talk that was meant to give me some direction in my future career; all it did was convince me that most journalists only like to talk about themselves and that the inflated sense of ego they bear is totally undeserved given their presentation skills. If I wanted to listen to the supposed achievements of an overbearing overweight twit I could watch our illustrious PM splutter his socialism on the 10 o'clock news.

Undergrads are notorious for thinking they Know It All and of course I am right there, cooing away in my neat little pigeonhole, but I truly find it depressing that four successful professionals can damn their life's work by all coming across as rambling and incoherent, having previously stressed that the entire point of journalism is to produce news that is relevant and succinct.

Just, frustrated.