I feel not too bad today. The head thing is still there, but it's worse when I think about it. If that makes sense. Finally, I think my glasses will arrive today, so who knows maybe that will help.
I'm looking forward to hearing from the doctor about when I will see this CBT woman. He asked me if I'd prefer to see a man or a woman, I said I didn't mind. But I'm pleased it's going to be a woman. Been thinking about moving away again. Maybe moving to Glasgow isn't the answer at all. Maybe moving somewhere else, somewhere sunny. Quality of life rather than work and money. A colleague asked me yesterday what my ideal job would be. And realistically I couldn't think of anything. Obviously the judge in a dick sucking competition came into mind, but it's not realistic is it?.... Is it?!
It was weird though, I haven't thought about what I *really* want to do for such a long time that I couldn't think of anything at all. Maybe I'v just accepted that my job is my job and will be forever. but is it really what I *want* to do? Or is it just what I've thought that I wanted for so long that I just accept that's it. Maybe I should think about something else. A new career, live in a new place. But it's difficult to do it when getting out of your bed is such a fuckin' struggle. Of course people think you're just a lazy cunt, can't get outta bed? "what the fahks the matta wifyar?" - fuck off.
There's something "safe" about bed. The world outside doesn't exist under your covers. Some security, no one can "get you" when you're in bed. But what "function" does that serve? As human beings, why would a feeling of fake safety make you feel better? Surely it's illogical to think that because you're in bed everything is ok? Surely bad things happen to people in bed too? (There's a joke in there somewhere, but I'll leave it this time)... I've had a few conversations about human instincts, or primal instincts with a friend of mine recently. Incidentally, some of his views are too extreme for a family blog....shit...
Anyway, I get the whole thing of feeling better because you feel safe. But surely when you know the "safety" is inherently flawed that actually goes *against* human nature? You feel safe, but you know it's not real. That's fucked up. 5000 years ago that shit would get you eaten by some wild animal.
Fuck knows... Why do I think about this shite? The world is 5 Billion years old, what fuckin' difference does it make how I feel?! I'll tell you - not a fuckin jot. Not one iota. It's fuckin' ridiculous, I worry about all this shit. And for 5 Billion years, it's not fuckin mattered, and for the next 5 billion years it won't fuckin' matter either.
You are not a unique, beautiful snowflake. You're an insignificat skidmark on the pants of the universe.
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