It is almost 6 am in the UK right now.
I have drank a bottle of Captain Morgans, which according to the bottle is 24.5 units of alcohol.
The recomended daily intake for a man (according to the Chief Medical Officers…whoever they are) is 3-4 units.
So why on earth do I not feel drunk? I don’t understand.
I waited on Skype for 6 hours, hoping she would come on. I just wanted to say hello to her. She didn’t come on of course. I am wondering where she is and what she is doing. I can’t help it. I know. Pathetic. I wish I didn’t love her.
What I wouldn’t give right now for a bit of self-esteem!
I got chatting to a few internet friends, but they all have their own lives. They left the party fairly early. The 13/14/15 year-old gamers bugged off at about 2.30 am. Sometimes I cant help envying them. They worry about so little…life seems so simple – so black and white to them, so excited about everything whilst pretending they are bored! Don’t get me wrong tho – I would not go back to that age for all the tea in China!!
I spent all day today reading blogs. You know who you are! And I couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of humility. I am not alone. Other people feel the same as me. Other people suffer, just like me. Other people have worse problems than me. My problem is fairly simple. I hate myself. It is nothing that cant be fixed. Other people who blog here regularly suffer from much worse conditions. And they show much more strength in getting on with life. I choose to call them “survivors”. They survive. They battle life one day at a time. They overcome their personal hurdles. They pick themselves up and dust themselves down, no matter what. They wish they could opt out of the suffering. Yet they blog. They open themselves to the world, and remain true to themselves. They acknowledge the challenges they are facing on a daily basis. But they keep going.
I am proud to have read their blogs.
When I feel isolated, and alone, I prefer to look inwards. I forget that other people are suffering too. ‘Cos my suffering is worse than anyone else’s isnt it? Part of me loves the “poor-me” attitude. I think I sometimes get off on feeling sorry for myself.
And maybe that is why I love the idea of a relationship. A relationship gives me the opportunity to focus on someone else for a change. I can forget about “me”. I can focus on the other person. That makes me an emotional parasite of sorts, i suppose.
But being someone else’s focus can be overwhelming to most people. I understand that. Being the centre of someone else’s universe can be tiring. Sometimes…normal people like being on their own. They like being on their own ‘cos they don’t drive themselves cray through thought. And when they meet a chameleon like me, they begin to run out of energy, cos I require a LOT of feeding!
I am beginning to understand.
Thank you blog.
And thank you co-bloggers.