Oh guess bloody who

Well yes it’s me. Plan Z…well that failed miserably. When first formulated in the early hours of this morning, the “next step” seminar my college was putting on about the “future” and university, wasn’t even considered. I didn’t even remember. It was only someone who had memory cells situated in their old noggin that asked who I was going with, that alerted me to the grave situation. I currently hate that person and that college and those teachers for inflicting their speck of worldly knowledge on me. They’ve ruined my night. The one thing, however tragic this may sound, that I was looking forward to. If Plan Z had of worked then I would in theory of managed 10-11 hours sleep in one night which is generally the amount I manage in a week.

I’m pissed off. Very. I’m still a ball of fury. I’m still angry at W. At everyone in fact. I’m still ranting. Still raving. Still hating. And still, after all these years searching for that elusive “off” button.

And for that naivety, I’m angry at myself. And disappointed.

It’s been a whole 6 days of increasingly maddening frustration. I’m paranoid. Finicky. Nasty. And probably quite annoying myself. I’m finding it harder and harder to rationalise anything, my little obsessions are getting more and more obsessive. I feel fat. Fatter. Disgusting. And then again a failure for being so. I hate myself ardently. I hate what I think, what I say, what I write, what I do. I can’t write. Nor speak – I shout, I growl, I mutter wildly under my breath.

It’s becoming increasingly apparent that me and D won’t last. This again will sound finical, but my head is set on auto-pilot-hate so every little event I over analyse and every little event is concluded as being against me. D text earlier. Since the beginning of the relationship, he’s always been particular about ending each text/msn message etc with 7 x’s. This evening I got a text with 2. I mentioned his camping trip in the company of his ex the other night when blogging. Are these things related? Probably. Will the foreseen events stop Eccedentesiast faking her smile? Most bloody likely. And why? Because she’s closer to normal and the ideal girl than I ever could be.

Thing is, part of me wants him to do it. Then I’d have a reason for all the cycling shitty moods and then I’d have a reason to purposefully slip off the local beauty stop cliff into the crashing river. Oops..