A year ago today I was in a crazy sleep-deprived emotional state.  I was in hysterics telling the head of interior design that I hated my work and thought it was awful.  He disagreed and sent me home to bed.  A year on, although not sleep deprived or stressed by final deadlines, I am in a crazy emotional state.  A year since my final ever university deadline I feel like I havn't moved on with my life at all.  I feel trapped and can see no way out.  But I was coping better with the day than I expected sat in an empty shop reading 1984 to pass the hours between rare customers.  Then I got home.  I never expect to get jobs, EVER.  But for some reason that never makes the rejection any easier to handle.  The optimist that is squashed way deep down inside me always tries to hope that maybe the next one might be the one, but then when it isn't the manic depressive loses all control and sends me in to an emotional frenzy.  I hate my life.  Nothing ever goes right.  I'm NEVER going to get a job.  I can't see any way out of this dark tunnel, if there is a light at the end it must be night because I can't see anything.  Mother turned in to a man... you know the type, offering suggestions opposed to sympathy like a woman is supposed to.  I am an intelligent girl, I know the suggestions.  Its not the suggestions that I want, or need.  I just want love and support, and nice ego-boosting comments [although preferrably not Everything happens for a reason because I am sick of that one, I am sick of this stupid reason that this keeps happening].  In all honesty, the job didn't particularly excite me.  I wasn't inspired by their design or the prospect of their hideous uniform.  But I was excited by the prospect of having a job, of finally feeling like my life was going somewhere and getting a step on the ladder.  In her attempt to calm me mother suggested a trip to the doctors, I can't imagine any mother wants to hear their child saying they hate life, but I'm still not convinced I want to go down the anti-depressants route.  I would rather get through it by myself, as hard as it is I can at least look back and know that I managed it myself... but at times like this I can't help but think that maybe a few happy pills wouldn't hurt.  So much for signs though... and faith?  The Big Man isn't doing a great job of keeping me in his flock, only the fear of not believing is keeping me at the moment.

But I don't like to be seen as the depressive moaning type, even though I know at times I can be, so I'm going to think of something happy to say now.  Father is back from his holiday today, I barely see him about the house but I've been feeling incredibly lonely knowing that he won't be coming home each night.  Bit sad that I won't be able to free the dogs from their prison to sit and watch TV with me anymore though.

New amusing addition to the same anniversary card story... we have the wrong cards.  When I went to read it last night for a reminder of his loving words I was faced with my own red handwriting, the silly boyfriend picked up the one with his own handwriting in to take home.  Silly silly.

Jobs Applied For_ 0
Tears_ 1
5-a-day?_ Success