Diaryofawitch

 Am I the problem? Or just a repressed Lesbian  I have been asking myself this question, as well as being asked by too many of my trusted nearest and dearest. To keep ignoring, the blaring red fog horn type signals and signs I have been receiving that the problem in my dating life, may shockingly well and truly be me, would be at this point confirmation bias in its full definition.  I know! Who would have thought that the common denominator in all my social and failed romantic endeavours may have in fact been me, hmmm. A real mind bender I know. But it seems to be true, well, at least for this week anyway.  I think the ever growing pile of first dates I bin off for very mundane reasons (ugly coat), to keep chasing the one or two of them that are viscerally, visibly not interested in me back is enough of a wake up call. LOL. You thought wrong.  I am clearly obsessed with chasing down someone who won’t chase me back and honestly sickened by the ones who will. It i...

Rest In Pity boys!  It's all coming, up April. I feel like I have spent months waiting for the bus and now all of them have come at once. I really need to listen more to Anna Wintour and stop chasing fucking buses, well men specifically. I don’t want to jinx myself, as I am extremely superstitious, but in one week all my issues may have solved themself. I could potentially go from jobless to employed, to having a new place I can actually afford and if I behave myself (unlikely) new friends eeeek.  On the man front, I have decided for the fourth and final time to sack it all off. After two0 boring dates with two0 different French men in one week, I am depleted of all interest in meeting strangers off the interweb. At least for the foreseeable. It has come to my attention under duress I have to add, that men get away with being so much more dull than us.  The last and final date (and straw) of the weekend committed multiple crimes (in the court of my mind), crime one, did n...

Big headed bitch I can’t tell you when this longing began, this delusional confidence based on nothing of substance. No external validation, no one has been banging down my door calling me beautiful, asking to take me out or to take my photo, my number, literally nothing.  I think it has actually quite possibly been the absence of this, that instead of sowing the seeds of self doubt, sowed the seeds of delusions of grandeur instead. In the absence of praise I was only too pleased to fill that vacuum, with nothing and no one to contradict me and my ballooning big head. On paper, and I must admit reality (though not mine), I am bang average looking, not tall, not that short, not that much of anything really. But this does not deter me, no amount of reality checks from the mirror can honestly convince me otherwise that I am not some special specimen that merits a closer inspection with the lens. I am so convinced of this bona fide fact that I regularly try to get my photo taken, in my...

  Patriarchal tax, yeh pay for my coffee bitch  Pay for my coffee bitch, I know I’m not the first person to come up with this idea or anything but the more dates I rack up with reluctant payers the more necessary I believe it to be.  Men over their lifetime earn more, work less and gain higher promotions while taking on the least amount of unpaid caregiving responsibilities. What’s new? Well it seems like some men have got confused over their place in the dating world.  This is unfortunately an argument well, let’s say a disagreement I have with my flatmates regularly. They are staunchly in disagreement about men needing to foot the bill for a first date, but let me tell you why they’re wrong; First and foremost men are losers, oops sorry I can’t go full misandrist this early on. Basically the short and sweet of it is, women at least in the UK earn on average 7% less than men, do 10 hours more of house work per week and are responsible for 60% of the caregiving....

Top and Tail Tom   Now this is a special tale of humble pie, let me set the scene. I was 19 maybe 20 at this point and desperate for attention as you can tell is a key theme in my life. I had been living in Portugal for a while the year before and a key character of this portion of my life was Tom, a childhood friend who I became obsessed with, like deeply obsessed with. I wanted to spend every day with him, know what he was up to, what he was thinking about every second, that kind of obsession. The only issue was that Tom, like me, was painfully avoidant. We spent all summer together laughing but I never knew where we stood. In the end I convinced myself that the only issue was that we were never alone together and only if I could orchestrate the situation just right then it would surely happen. Right? That’s some airtight logic. Shockingly, this proved to be extremely difficult every time I tried to make plans with just the two of us. Tom would miss the hint (or not) and invite t...

  Epilepsy diaries, Bald baddie SUDEP, the fear and me, I know it’s very unlikely for me to die from this but it’s niggling in the back of my mind, it’s like a juicy piece of anxiety I'm so desperate to sink into. Knowing it does me no good and is not even really a worry I should have, but it’s so much easier to put my feelings onto something tangible than to actually look myself in the mirror and deal with what I actually am feeling. Which is what? I don’t know exactly some kind of quiet desperation I wish I didn’t feel. A longing to be “special” in some kind of way, but to who for what, why? I think we all probably know the answer. Unfortunately as I'm learning in recent therapy sessions just knowing where something comes from or the name to give it does not actually solve the issue itself. How shit, I know if only it were that simple. I was meant to have a photoshoot today for an extremely vague friend and it made me feel special to be asked. It really stroked a part of my e...

  Do you love me? Or do I just love myself… Another desperate cry for help from me, clearly in the pits of the early 20s flailing around in the city. I honestly truly feel it would take meeting one person for my mood to shift, my world perspective to be altered. Is that too intense, yeh probably but that is my current mood. I want to get engaged, buy a flat together, spend months decorating nesting and then call the whole thing off last minute just because I can. I am a walking red flag searching for my next victim it seems, people must be able to smell this on me, because the wide birth I have been getting from any potentials feels personal. I guess because it is, eeek. Putting all this out into the ether feels freeing in equal amounts as tragic and desperate. But honestly I’d rather be desperate than boring, so I am successful in at least one aspect of my life right now.  I am not sure what I expect to happen, making a mediocre at best blog and rambling my thoughts on the we...

  Is this it? I have been asking myself that a lot these days, moving abroad, getting pissed, starting running like everyone and their mum and nothing. I am still the same bitch. Waiting. For what? A great love, a great career, life passion? I think what I am really waiting for is it all to descend into a ball of fire again. To get so ill I have to return home and be housebound with my suffocating parents again (sorry guys). It has been years since I left there, but I am always looking over my shoulder to check how close I am to that being my reality again. No matter how much distance, time and money I put between me and that time in my life it haunts me like a bad case of BV, stinking up the place. I’m really not sure how to truly, actually move on with my life and stop acting from a place of fear, deep I know thanks to therapy I can’t afford.  I am so severely risk averse I have become so stagnant, so stunted in almost every aspect of my life. I can’t keep looking around and...

  Faith  I'm not a religious person, but I am trying to find some kind of faith in my life again. Maybe it would be easier if I was to surrender to a higher power, giving my life over to something else with more meaning in such a meaningless time in the world. I do see the benefits from being part of one of those communities, the sense of belonging, the routine, the shared history you automatically have with other people. But I just don’t feel that pull towards organised religion, I feel the opposite really. I grew up Catholic, going to Catholic school and attending Sunday school until the age of 16 and for the longest time I didn’t question a thing. It was my upbringing, my routine, I had friends in the church and at school. It all felt very familiar, but I could never shake the feeling that the beliefs were not my own. I’m really not convinced that my mother believed it either, if it wasn’t more about keeping something alive that she shared with her own mother, a devout Iris...

  I’ve lost the will  I have well and truly lost the fucking will to exist, be alive contribute to society. I want to go home immediately and curl up in my bed and not be seen for weeks to months. The fact that I cannot do this or shouldn’t be doing this makes the thought of it even more tantalising. My bed, so warm, so inviting, no one is going to bother me in there. Shut my laptop off, not answer any emails, any messages tell everyone to bog off. I am dying to perish, to slip away into nothingness. Why, I honestly can’t tell you my life is pretty fine, pretty good if I actually put some effort in it could be great but I can’t be bothered. It feels like my legs are made of lead and I'm trying to trollop through mud just to get up and face the days. I don’t want to do anything, nothing is sparking my joy, tickling my fancy, getting me going so to speak. I want to see no one do nothing be nothing. The mere effort of existence, the relentless communication is wearing my nerves s...

  Fuck me….please  Well fuck me, 2024 was one fucking dry year. I had very high hopes coming into the new year in 2023 watching the fireworks with hopeful eyes even a tear I could say. But that hope has well and truly deserted me as I sit here on Jan 1st one year and 0 shags later. I am currently sat in a soulless Starbucks looking at minimum wage jobs that I don’t even want to do and won’t even get hired for lol. My bank account has never been lower but I can’t help this feeling that I’m either on the cusp of greatness or full blown mental breakdown and embarrassing return to the UK, something I swore up and down I would never do. But honestly I don't know why I am currently abroad. I'm trying to find the reasons, economic greatness certainly not, opportunity and prospects for work not and a year full of lovers and shags obviously not. I think I need to come to the conclusion that the problem is well and truly me. You could put me anywhere right now and I’d still be feeling s...