I haven't blogged this week due to the art course. It went really well and I'm proud of the progress I've made. I managed to go to every day, and not to come home early either. There was a couple of exercises I didn't like and which were on the verge of upsetting me, but I managed to stop for five minutes, breathe deeply, tell myself that this wasn't important and thus not worth worrying so much over, and then carry on. Pity I can't apply that technique to my photography essay. I still haven't added anything else to it and now there's only 9 or 10 days left until it has to be finished. Looking at the essay makes me depressed and upset, I feel useless and like I shouldn't be on the course. I considered leaving, but I don't want to, overall I enjoy it. I considered not handing an essay in, or at least only handing in what I already have, no matter how much the teacher complains at me, but I expect he may refuse to enter me for the exam if I don't complete it. It probably isn't too late to withdraw me from the exam. I contemplated killing myself, so I don't have to leave the course or do the essay, and although it's a silly thing to commit suicide over, it's still my favourite option. Suicide scares me though. There's so many things I want to do and experience, why should I give all that up? And I've always reacted to unfavourable situations by backing out of them and refusing to deal with them. It would be nice to make a change. But I'm frightened by the unknown and will stick to a routine, no matter how damaging, purely because it is routine. I detest myself for it yet lack the courage to make changes. I guess I could argue that this is actually the reason for killing myself, and the essay is just the latest manifestation of it, but is that just cowardice? I think it's one big, self-perpetuating circle which I can't find my way out of. (Rory thinks such situations should be called sarahisms.)
On the more mundane side of life, my lack of control with food is still wild and free to roam. Not helped by the fact that 300g of Maya Gold bought for me by Ed arrived today. It was the parcel the postal depot were keeping from me and not a CD from Ebay as I was expecting. I managed to catch the postman yesterday as he was delivering me some letters and he said he'd bring the package along for me. I've eaten some of the chocolate already. I wonder if Beanos would take the rest in exchange for some of the new cherry flavour which I've been coveting for some time? It's more expensive, thus there would be less to soak into my thighs, and I seem to be the only Green and Blacks fan who hasn't tried any yet.
The poster we put up at SHIP last week asking if people were interested in restarting the women's group has attracted quite a bit of interest. With luck we might manage to get the group going again, which will give me more support, and more things to do. Maybe I'll find some people to help me with my eating issues too.
On Thursday I went out to the pub with Phil, Tom, Rogan and his flatmate, Chris. Phil hadn't wanted to go to the George pub quiz this week so we agreed to meet at Milos, by the corn exchange, the night after instead. She found that Milos was owned by one of her college lecturers, so we quickly left and went elsewhere. I had a fun evening, got a little drunk, had some good conversation. Phil insisted she did like me, and considered me a friend, which made me feel good. If she tells me a few more times I might start to even believe her! Also, when I was leaving the taxi at the end of the night, I said to Rogan that I might see him next week, and he replied that that would be good. It sounded genuine, and at the risk of tempting fate, I think I might have eventually found some people in Leeds to call friends.
22:15
