Failure

It's not been a good fortnight. My much-desired, long-delayed day off on Friday the 9th was fine, but it only made me more keenly aware of what I'm missing by not taking the remaining 19 days I'm entitled to. It made me resentful and moody over returning to work on Monday. This was not helped at all by being faced with the Christmas schedule. I don't see how it's possible for me to stop working any earlier than the 24th of December. That means missing my street's Christmas party, it means either travelling down to my parents' house with a bulky bag of presents or spending Christmas eve wrapping everything for everybody. It means working hard every day until Christmas and not being sure that's enough.

This bad start to the week was not aided by another period of finding everything dissatisfying. No matter what I did when I got home, I was apathetic about it, unenthusiastic. I forced myself to buy some things I needed (a coat, present supplies for a crafty present I am making), I did some colouring, I went to choir but... it's just so frustrating when I'm forcing myself to do these things, when I'm not enjoying anything or getting any satisfaction out of them. I was afraid this mood would infect my much-anticipated viewing of Miss Saigon on Friday. Fortunately, I had a counselling session on Thursday that helped get some feelings out which I think helped. Thursday evening and Friday were certainly better than the rest of the week. 

The weekend was... fine. Then Monday morning I woke up realising I'd forogtten to do some work on Friday which meant the Mirror went all weekend without having its codebreaker hint lines available. As a perfectionist, this burdened me with a lot of shame and anger (at myself) and anxiety. Once again, there’s that feeling of not enjoying anything in the evenings to contend with. I found some drawing lessons, forced myself to make some progress, cooked, even donated to a good cause but none of it made me feel like life means anything. 

Then I put myself forward for some criticism of my online dating profile. That may not have been a good idea.

"The obese girl in a t shirt with no makeup and flat hair isn't going to do well in dating."

"Lose 60 pounds." 

"Overall if you're not getting the responses that you would like from men that you like, the only thing holding back is your weight."

"Harsh reality you're probably already aware of, but being overweight makes it a lot harder to date."

I know it's all true, and I know I'm not entitled to love or a relationship. I just wish 'harder to date' wasn't 'impossible to date'... 

Most of all, I wish I knew what to do to fix the 'nothing is satisfying' feeling. 

Maybe counselling tomorrow will give me another good day and a half, but shouldn't my week be made up of more than 1.5 good days, 2 'fine' days and 3 awful days?