Outlook are trying to fuck me and it's working

ARGGGHHH. ARRGRGRHRGRHRGRHRGRHRGRHRHRGHGHGHHHHHH!!!!!

So according to an email I received four days ago, someone was trying to hack into my Microsoft account. I tried to recover the account via a verification code sent to my phone but every time I entered the last four digits of my number NOTHING was sent through to my phone. I got NADA. ZIP. ZILCH. For all I know they sent the code to whoever it was trying to hack my account in the first place - not to go all conspiracy theory but FOR REALS I think that's what has happened.

Anyways, after it wouldn't send it through to my phone I decided to reset the account via a questionnaire they offered. It asks for information like:

• Subjects of emails recently sent
• Subjects of emails recently received
• Email addresses recently contacted
• The location of the lost City of Atlantis
• Alternative folders you've created
• Your Bra Size
• 
  

I filled it in as best I could. But to be honest, without looking at my emails I couldn't tell you who the last person I emailed or received an email from was. I vaguely remember sending my sister pictures of kittens but I feel like 'Kittens, maybe?' as a subject would not work so well for me here.

QUELLE FUCKING SURPRISE I failed to provide enough information to successfully recover my account and so it has been temporarily blocked. So whoever it was who was trying to hack into my account, if anyone ever truly was, has succeeded only in making a 5'2" nutjob that little bit nuttier. Seriously, rub your balls in my face why don't you???

ARGH. Fucking computer technology bullshit etc etc.

P.S I opened my Facebook account again, by the way, like a capitalist bitch. MY FRIENDS GOT ENGAGED AND I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW UNTIL I GOT THE WEDDING INVITATION what was I supposed to do?!?! Fuck me.

I first started writing a blog because a boy I fancied wrote one. Then I kept writing the blog because other people told me they liked my blog. Then I dedicated myself writing the blog every day because the boy I fancied told me he read it and I thought I could be cute and lay clues to the fact that I liked him on there and he'd see it and slowly but surely fall for me too.Then I wrote my blog because everything with the boy I fancied got fucked up and I wanted to write really passive aggressive notes about him and talk other boys I liked in the hope of hurting him as much as he'd hurt me. Then I wrote my blog in the hopes of getting attention from other boys. Then I wrote my blog because I wanted attention full stop. Then it was because of the first boy again, then it was because of someone else then I graduated from University and finally I just stopped writing the fucking blog.

I've tried writing a blog again since but it's never caught. everything has fallen through, much like any and all other projects I have tried to kick start since I graduated. I have a lot of ideas but bring nothing to fruition. I had the realisation that this was because (much like it was with my first blog) I was in need of constant attention and reassurance from other people and the I knew that the quickest and most efficient way of doing this was via social media. For me, a blog was a great pretense; I could claim the entire time that I was 'a writer' and 'being creative' when actually all I was doing was seeking approval and attention. But i didn't want to write it because I felt I had something to say - I wanted to do it for the sake of doing it. I repeat, this was the case FOR ME. Not every blogger out there is as much of a mess as I am.

Once I had that very embarrassing and humbling thought I realised that all I wanted to write about was exactly how I felt, no matter who it upset and what anyone thought of me for it. And I wanted to stop feeling shaming for the way I used to be and I see talking about things as a method of diminishing that shame. I also realised that every time I sat down to write anything it just sounded like absolute crap - like a kid making up a story as she goes along to impress her kid mates you know? 'My Dad's bigger than your dad' etc.

This is the first time in my life I've written actual real things about my life and for myself. These are the things that I know. Yeah, they might seem depressing and yeah they might seem pretentious but I think I'm kind of a depressing and pretentious person at my core. Right now, anyway. I'm not anything like I used to be but I'm also nothing like what I'm going to become. All I know is that writing these posts every so often is stopping me from sleeping all day and wanting to punch people in the face. And I don't feel like such a fake bitch whilst I'm writing this. And that's a positive thing.

I find it very difficult to make friends these days. Well, at least I think I do, I'm really not so sure. Maybe it's that I don't want to make anymore friends? I'm pretty happy with the group I've got at the moment, both close and the ones that come and go, and I think it's a lot to do with effort. You have to make the effort to get people to like you, you know? Well, no, that's not true - a true friend isn't your friend if you're someone else around them and being someone else requires effort. I'm really not making a lot of sense, I've obviously chosen a great time in my mind to write something down.

I think what I mean is that in order to make new friends you have to show an interest in being sociable with people you don't know and for me, personally, these days that is a big ask. The idea of being in a room full of people I do know can quite often leave me exhausted and wanting to lie in bed and stare up at my ceiling. During these times I often have quite dark thoughts, but now isn't the time for that discussion. I usually just rely on Netflix to get me through those periods of time, hoping I can watch enough episodes of 'The League' to muster up the energy to go and hang out with people I care about. How miserable is that? It makes me seem like a total frigid bitch, but I'm not. At least, i hope I'm not. Who's knows, maybe I am? It's just... how can I even exist in a room full of people I don't know when I literally have to prepare my mind to be around the people I love?

I'm supposed to be going to see some very old friends in late January, and I am terrified. I've already come up with a thousand reasons not to and written 5 or 6 drafts of texts I want to send to cancel but I haven't sent anything yet. I think it's guilt that's stopping me from doing so, because when it comes to these guys I dropped off the radar for a little while and sometimes I feel guilty that I don't make the effort enough for them (see above, with the exhaustion and fear for reasons why). But then I get angry because I think 'They've done so much without me already, why does it fucking matter if I go to this thing?' and then I feel bitter and twisted about it all and my very fond memories of them get warped into something else entirely, which then results in panic at the thought of seeing them again. It's like a full blown argument in my brain, it's... well, as you've probably guessed it's exhausting.

I would say I spend 60-70% of my time complaining of being tired. But when you think about things as much as I think about things making a cup of tea is fucking exhausting. So making friends... it's just not gonna happen anytime soon.

Does that make me lazy?