boo hoo

So Kate's moving out, and as much as I love (like last night) emerging from my room to see a lounge full of boys I don't actually know, I'm pretty pissed. See, four of us agreed to live together and now, all these months later, two of them and the two who would replace them and now Kate have all found better offers. What can I say, 9 days out of 10 it's actually pretty funny that yet again I'm waiting for 'somebody' to show up and move in. I enjoy it, the not knowing who the hell it's gonna be.

But today I'm in self-pity central. I've torn a muscle in my back. It's not gonna heal for six weeks and in the meantime I have a very important performance to do, three days a week of work at Help the Aged to do, tidying my room to do, laundry to do, leaving the house to do - all kinds of activities that involve being able to move. Plus, I have flu, and as much as I love Craig and Christoph, I suddenly feel very very alone. You know, there's really not much else I can do but sit and watch tv in my bedroom.

It's made a little bit harder by the fact that I'm doing this all unmedicated. I took myself off Citalopram a few weeks ago and, while I did it gradually and managed to avoid too much withdrawal, I'm feeling the difference. Really, badly feeling the difference.

These things come in cycles, right? I'm in the bad place now but I'll be in the good place soon.

Yeah, fucking right. You know I don't even care?