(no subject)
I've been obscenely busy, though it might not look like it to most. Centrelink is supposed to be helping me with a business loan to start up my editing business properly, but won't give it to me unless I go to a certain TAFE thing, which won't let me in until July, which won't let me in even then unless I have Centrelink clearance. Why the hell is this such a retarded clusterfuck...
Reed Employment Services are, to put it plainly, retarded. By Centrelink law I have to go to any meeting they want me at, which they notify me of (every goddamn time) only 12 or so hours beforehand. The idea is they're supposed to help me find a job, but I'm hard-pressed to find one single thing that they actually do. As would be expected, they're the ones that are supposed to hook me up with the aforementioned business loan. Goddamn.
As usual, I'm living on Centrelink money, just about. Luckily, I'm still living with my mother, otherwise I would be even more hungry than I am.
On that subject, having a literally unending appetite is not funny. At all. It is literally not possible for me to eat enough to be fully sated for more than a few minutes. This has gotten worse the more I exercise, in an attempt to be more muscle than fat (and there is a lot of fat). You could say I have an eating disorder, though not the kind most people immediately think of. Sadly, if that is what it is, it has very physical symptoms and is not something I can just will away. I can simply not eat as much, which is usually what I do anyway due to not having nearly enough food on hand to do otherwise, but this doesn't fix the problem; I just count out roughly how many calories are in a meal versus the 1400 I need per day and try not to make the numbers go too high. This doesn't make me not hungry, it just means I'm getting enough nutrition. There's a wide difference between what you need and what you physically require, and I tend toward the latter so I don't eat myself to death, or get even more fat than I am.
I am spectacularly harsh with myself. I'll work myself to exhaustion just trying to look more like I think I should. I don't hate myself that much, I just...
I don't know. I can always be thinner, stronger, more muscled. The better I look, the more I'll be wanted. It makes no sense and I know it isn't true or even reasonable. But it is what it is.
My skin's gone to hell from the stress, it does that. The last time my acne was this bad was after my break-up, or during VCE. I feel ridiculous and more than a little ashamed of myself for even bothering to complain, because it's not like I'm going into the military. Or pulling off a 75 average on an obscenely difficult university course. I have no place to complain, and I should just shut the fuck up and deal with it like the man I'm supposed to be.
Angst angst angst. Cry moar, faggot. I'll write up more pleasant recent events soon. Sorry I haven't updated, LJ. No damn time.
Reed Employment Services are, to put it plainly, retarded. By Centrelink law I have to go to any meeting they want me at, which they notify me of (every goddamn time) only 12 or so hours beforehand. The idea is they're supposed to help me find a job, but I'm hard-pressed to find one single thing that they actually do. As would be expected, they're the ones that are supposed to hook me up with the aforementioned business loan. Goddamn.
As usual, I'm living on Centrelink money, just about. Luckily, I'm still living with my mother, otherwise I would be even more hungry than I am.
On that subject, having a literally unending appetite is not funny. At all. It is literally not possible for me to eat enough to be fully sated for more than a few minutes. This has gotten worse the more I exercise, in an attempt to be more muscle than fat (and there is a lot of fat). You could say I have an eating disorder, though not the kind most people immediately think of. Sadly, if that is what it is, it has very physical symptoms and is not something I can just will away. I can simply not eat as much, which is usually what I do anyway due to not having nearly enough food on hand to do otherwise, but this doesn't fix the problem; I just count out roughly how many calories are in a meal versus the 1400 I need per day and try not to make the numbers go too high. This doesn't make me not hungry, it just means I'm getting enough nutrition. There's a wide difference between what you need and what you physically require, and I tend toward the latter so I don't eat myself to death, or get even more fat than I am.
I am spectacularly harsh with myself. I'll work myself to exhaustion just trying to look more like I think I should. I don't hate myself that much, I just...
I don't know. I can always be thinner, stronger, more muscled. The better I look, the more I'll be wanted. It makes no sense and I know it isn't true or even reasonable. But it is what it is.
My skin's gone to hell from the stress, it does that. The last time my acne was this bad was after my break-up, or during VCE. I feel ridiculous and more than a little ashamed of myself for even bothering to complain, because it's not like I'm going into the military. Or pulling off a 75 average on an obscenely difficult university course. I have no place to complain, and I should just shut the fuck up and deal with it like the man I'm supposed to be.
Angst angst angst. Cry moar, faggot. I'll write up more pleasant recent events soon. Sorry I haven't updated, LJ. No damn time.