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    Coming to a plague pit near you.

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  1. I wasn't ready to come back. I don't know. See you round, I may or may not return.

  2. CB got pretty since I last visited.

  3. Hi I don't really know if I am posting in the right place. So modificators, feel free to move, thanks. Hmm so I have a big problem with identity. It's like, I don't have any hopes and dreams, or knowledge of what I like or whatever. Even if I did, I don't know how it'd relate to getting a job or what job field to go in. So my question is, is there any advice service that can help with this? Or something? I feel like recruitment agencies are only a big parade leading to them doing what I could do anyway for free. I hate my current job with a passion, I hear people laugh uncomfortably when I tell them I spent 50 hours a week wishing I were dead (at least), but it's not a joke (travelling time is ideation time, if I'm not asleep). Don't tell anyone, but my current job makes me dissociate (maybe), and I cry a lot (it's dumb), and have nosebleeds (it never happened before, and I'm pretty sure I haven't been near any radioactive waste recently). I'm good at being sober in general, but the only way I feel like I can face work is being high off my ass or drunk as hell. All my good qualities are neglected. I'm losing my integrity. I'm really, really overqualified. I make people laugh so much. There's a good relationship with other workers because it sucks, but really all their lives are about is, how shitfaced they got on Saturday/Sunday/Wednesday night. I take a razor to work a lot. I don't use it because that would be unhygienic but sometimes I just contemplate it. I want to move. I mean, I'll take a decent job in any country in the world.
  4. Actually physically nauseated by the society I live in, by humanity in general, and that I spend a minimum of 40 solid hours per week wishing I could die.

    1. Stickler


      Could be worse, man...there are such things as monster truck rallies. Oh the horror, the horror.

    2. Stickler


      Just kidding... I am genuinely unhappy that things are still wretched for you.

  5. I know that game! Unfortunately it's too common. In fact, it's somewhat why I'm never on CB.
  6. I have trouble enough getting an appointment within two weeks anyway, and that's for physical health stuff. All the parties here want to bury the NHS, truth be told. It's pretty difficult to see anyone about MI - you more or less always need to attempt or be barking at passersby to get any kind of attention. Every time I've seen a psychiatrist, the whole episode has been rather farcical. Anyway, just weighing in here, since I know I'm preaching to the choir. $0.02.
  7. Marmite all the way! I've only had the UK version. I tried Vegemite before, but the texture is off for me, and the flavour isn't as savoury. It wasn't terrible by any means but anyway, there it is. I also read that it's bad to inject yourself with it.
  8. Jem - "They". I don't know why, haven't heard the actual song for ages!
  9. I was going to add/reply to something, but someone got there first. Never mind, I'm a derp face.
  10. Manic Street Preachers Feat. Nina Persson - "Your Love Alone Is Not Enough". I heard an old song by a local band on the radio, which somehow reminded me of it, hence...
  11. I hate that I get this, completely. In fact, I hate that both of us think that. In fact, it's like I don't even know what I've wasted it on doing or not. Just abstractly, I know that this year has so far escaped.
  12. The one lurking behind you, what's going on? You applied yet? How's it going? Hope you're doing well.
  13. I have an appointment. It is coming this week. I am scared. Really scared. I'm scared I don't know what to say. I'm scared that nothing I have to say is real and the only thing that's real is that my friend invented me as a crazy person. I'm scared to get blown off. It might kill me. Then again, maybe it's right. I'm scared to tell the truth because it feels like I might shatter under its weight. As though I'm just a china doll and when I speak this evil, I might explode, with the light shining through me and the darkness rushing out. I'm hollow. I'm scared everyone will know about me. I'm already paranoid that they do. I'm scared to get help because I feel evil. Like I'm dead, and like my voice is the same. As though every time I speak, it sucks the light of living out of its hearer. Maybe it's better if I stay silent, if no one listens. At least all my bad habits make me feel real. I have a real problem identifying problems, I think, and a real problem saying how deeply the rot has got inside me. I mean, suicidal thoughts? Probably not unless you ask about them. Though at the same time, I'm being absolutely drowned in them. Swimming, really, since I'm just used to it. I have normal work. I told them I might be late. I haven't said what I think might happen. Oops. Hospital. Am I really dangerous to myself? Have I really so little insight? I would love some other input if you have anything to say. Hope you enjoyed the book.
  14. Thank you for your posts. Thanks for the validation, as well. I like your logic, jt07. Melissa, I haven't seen either of those for a while. I had like what I guess you'd call a counsellor or therapist or something last year. Hagar, Stickler, malachite, inabook, I may be able to see one. The issue is that a referral would probably be needed and at the moment, my GP is someone with whom I have previously regretted raising the subject of Crazy and its accompaniments. I'm trying to find a different doctor and I want to resolve certain logistical issues stopping me from going forward with these problems. I feel like I have a super hard time believing there's anything wrong. When I do, it's at some terrible juncture, and then what I guess you'd call my insight just disappears again. I feel like I wear depression, that it's just every day, it's just my lot, and it's just me. I feel like I'm going to die before I was ever properly alive in any capacity. I feel like I don't know anything.
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