I stayed up late last night.  It was my fault.  I was doing various things, some necessary, some just acting out from my mental health issues, but also watching the Doctor Who episode Nightmare in Silver, which I found myself enjoying somewhat, even though in the past I have disliked it.  Usually re-watching stuff while very depressed makes it less enjoyable, but occasionally I get lucky.  Obviously that episode needed to be watched in  a “I’m exhausted, show me something silly and escapist that I won’t think about too seriously” frame of mind.

I was woken up early today, I think around 8.30am, maybe earlier, by the builders next door starting work noisily.  Very considerate of them.  Then they accidentally cut off the electricity to my flat and my landlord’s house and they had to come in to turn off the circuit breakers because I was too tired to get involved.  Unfortunately, once it was sorted I went back to sleep because I was too exhausted to stay awake.  I didn’t wake up until 3.00pm or later.  I must have slept for twelve or thirteen hours.  The builders had cleared off early.

I got an email from the careers advisor I applied to see last night (one of the job-related things I stayed up late to do).  My appointment is in the middle of my holiday in New York and there is no option to apply for a different slot.  I’m not cancelling a holiday that cost over £1000 for a careers advice slot, so I will email, but I’m worried they won’t let me change, only cancel.

I’ve been thinking about Hevria.com again and getting turned down as a writer.  At the time writing was just a hobby, but now I wonder if a regular writing gig, even unpaid (I believe Hevria writers are paid now, although they weren’t when I applied) would have helped my career.  It can’t have harmed it.  I don’t like to admit this, but getting turned down was a massive blow to my confidence as a writer and even several years on (I can’t remember exactly how many; it must be three or four) I still feel ‘blocked’ on some level.  I know I’ve hardly written any poetry since then, when I was writing a poem a week or so for eighteen months or so before it.

Mind you, Hevria is really political now, for a site that was never meant to be political, although by ‘political’ I mean ‘anti-Trump.’  I don’t like Donald Trump, but I don’t think he’s Hitler, and it’s a bit tedious continually being told he is, especially as I am neither an American citizen nor an American resident and have other things in my life.  That was another thing I thought I could offer Hevria, a reminder that not all Jews are North American or Israeli (though statistically about 90% are, to be fair).  Anyway, it was not to be, and I should let it go, like all the other things in my life that were not to be that I can’t let go (going to a different school, asking someone out when I was at school, going to yeshiva, sticking with counselling when I was sixteen, getting diagnosed with depression earlier, getting diagnosed with autism at all, staying in my job, E…. most of these things I turned down or self-sabotaged, so I can’t really blame anyone else).

Sigh.  It’sgone  5.30pm, I’m still in my pyjamas and the only thing I’ve done today that could be called worthwhile is tracking down a rogue quote from Doctor Who ex-showrunner Russell T Davies (just one word!) for my book.  The job hunt websites I stayed up late signing up to yesterday are sending me wildly inappropriate stuff, but maybe I’m just too unskilled, mentally ill, autistic and useless to do a real job.  I was just lying on my bed, trying and failing to cry, just thinking how much I hate myself and I hate my life and I wish things could go differently, the way other people’s lives go, but I don’t know how.  I’m just a screw up, in every sense.

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