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?

I deactivated my facebook account last year because they refused to remove a video of kitten being put in a bucket, doused in petrol and lit on fire. I wish I could say I deleted it but considering the fact you have to put in a legal request for an account to be deleted when someone dies, I think I did ok. I still have instagram though, which is owned by facebook and makes me a hypocritical bitch. I just love the way the filters make my cats look and nothing is being set alight.

I didn't really think anything of it when I did delete it - I put up a status announcing that I wouldn't be available on there anymore, which probably sounds very self-indulgent and self-important but it was just to let people know my contact details so that I wouldn't fall out of contact with people. I did still fall out of contact with people but that's neither here nor there. I thought I'd miss it more, but I really didn't. A few days of going to open the app on my phone due to force of habit were about it - after that it just wasn't a part of my life anymore.

I now realise just how venomous a website like facebook could be. I've had a pretty exciting life and there are a lot of good things about it, but when I had facebook I would sit and troll through every page of people I went to high school and university with and see that they were doing nothing but amazing things. Travelling, becoming self-employed, getting promotions, experiencing things that almost everyone has on their bucket list and they were the same age as me and here I was living with my parents and working at a sixth form college in a job that I kinda hated and why couldn't I be as amazing as them?

The problem with social media accounts like facebook and also instagram is that they trivialise what would usually be huge, life changing moments and make them appear to be regular, daily activities. When you see regular people regularly achieving great feats of life your life seems terrible in comparison, which of course it would! If your old maths buddy had started travelling around the world and posted on facebook that they're going to be waking up at 05:45am tomorrow morning and making their way to Japan and you know you've got to get up tomorrow at 05:45am so you can catch the bus to go to work in Lowestoft because you don't have enough money to learn how to drive and buy a car? Your life is going to seem shitty. Even if it's not! But when you see life changing occasions regularly and the people experiencing them act as if it's just another day at the office, it's foolish to think you won't automatically make comparisons to your own life that are so detrimental in the long term. I know I did, constantly. And it often made me unhappy when actually my position in life was pretty great. I realise that now, of course but it took me a long, long time.

I stopped following a lot of people on instagram once I'd had this mini-epiphany. I only follow close friends and family and some tattoo artists whose work I drool over on the reg and I'm much happier for it. I suppose I should get rid of it really, but I just really love showing off my cats, they're so badass and beautiful. My boyfriend recently said that I miss out on a lot because I don't have facebook, which I think about sometimes. Mostly though I just don't see the point of it now.

Five years ago I was Twenty Years Old. I was in my second year of university, had an amazing group of very close friends around me, including someone who was more like a soul mate than anything else, but more about her later. I had a knack for falling for very poisonous men and I had no real direction BUT 100% believed that I would be living in London once I graduated and I would achieve whatever I wanted to and that I would do it within the next 5 years AND it would definitely be something to do with writing, either film or TV or maybe even a novel.

Now it's 2015. I'm Twenty Five years old with a very small group of friends, most of whom are family members and my soulmate dumped me via a facebook message about growth and some other bullshit that I'm obviously not bitter about and don't think about a lot*. I lost a lot of close friendships because I deleted my facebook account, which I still can't decide whether or not that's on them because it's a website and there are literal thousands of different ways to communicate with people or me because I refuse to reactivate my facebook account and there are literally billions of people who use it now. I tripped over a couple of other bad guys before falling in love with a great one and he is truly wonderful, albeit 5 years younger than me. And I live back home with my parents in East Anglia, working in customer services for a local bus company and listening to elderly women tell me I can shove my bus where the sun doesn't shine. 

There are so many aspects of my personality I've lost over the last 5 years. My sociability, my wonder at any and every thing and i think to some extent my spark. Back in Summer of 2013 I was diagnosed with Anxiety and Depression, which is something I still haven't overcome. I like to think that it's just a chemical imbalance that's caused it but I think it's more likely a result of actual events that have occurred in my life than a mistake on nature's part. It's much easier to blame chemicals than it is to face up to the fact that I've become a far more muted and disappointing version of myself and that a lot of shitty things have happened to me. I take medication for my anxiety and depression every day. It's not too bad, although when I forget to take it I get really sick and end up with a migraine. I feel pretty dependent on my medication now, too, and often like it's not enough anymore. But again, this is all a work in progress. Rome wasn't built in a day and my life's fuck-ups can't be wished away.

I'm quite on board with who I am now, as a person, and the friends I've made in the last two years like me exactly as I am now. The only people who have a problem with who I am now are the people who've known me before.I kinda hate who I was before - sure, I wasn't morbidly overweight and I had a lot more friends, but being me then was exhausting. Everything was so calculated and considered, my life was a TV show for people to watch and I just hoped they'd tune back in for the next series. I made a lot of bad and stupid choices and I think back now at how I used to be and cringe. It still hurts though when people say 'What happened to you? you used to be so happy all the time!'. I don't have the energy to repeat over and over again that actually I wasn't that happy at all and who I am now is more me than I've ever been. I still wonder at stupid things - I just don't feel the need to tell everyone so that they'll think of me as some hyped up manic-pixie dream girl figure that I once aspired to be. I enjoy a lot more things for myself rather than for the attention of other people, like I used to. 

I'm not really sure what this post is about, really. It just feels nice to write some honest things for once. 

*Except I do, because she was my best friend and knew everything single thing about me there was to know and she dropped me so suddenly it hit me like a goddamn fire truck, I mean really, as I was reading the message she sent me explaining why being my friend was bad for her, as I was reading the words of someone I loved and thought would be there with me my entire life explain why being my friend was like a poison to her and exhausting to continue it felt like someone had found one of those really old railway sleepers and swung it into my face.