annanotbob's Diaryland Diary

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Hatefulness

All fucked up again, all fucked up. An accretion of small things that gradually chipped away at my self-control until here I am, huddled in bed, waiting for the valium to come on.

My buddy list is still weird, the batteries have run out on the keyboard to the pc and I can't get the bit open to see what size they are, never mind changing them. Thank god for laptop as no one wants to listen to this stuff, I'm too shaky to hold a pen steady, and if I don't get it out of my brain I don't know what I'll do with myself.

Lots of stuff came for Sara about her student accomodation. She's gone off camping somewhere in Somerset with a couple of Dot's boys. The deadline for this paperwork is Tuesday, but it needs bank account details and signatures and student reference numbers and fuck knows what else.

I calmed myself down enough to ask Jane help me sort it out, but she can't quite grasp the depths to which I sink when confronted with bureacratic language. I can hardly believe it myself - I mean, here I am writing, using language quite competently - how can I fall to pieces so much, so quickly. Vile it is, just vile. Jane did give me a hand and wrote a list of questions/documents etc that I need to sort out. As soon as I was out of her house, on the street, I bawled my eyes out. Couldn't bring myself to go back and admit what I'm really like, too pathetic.

I know it's an illness and not a matter for shame any more than a broken leg would be, but it feels LIKE SHIT, to not be able to rely on your thinking process when you need it. I hate it so much, I really really do. And I realise too late that I would have been better off going for a swim than taking a fucking valium but too late, can't drive now.

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2:29 p.m. - 13/08/2009

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