Nigel Incubator-Jones

9:44am: Yesterday was odd. It started out with my getting up early to visit my Calculus professor and finding that he was prepared to dismiss me to spend time with one of his graduate students (which meant that I had missed an hour or so of sleep for nothing). I went to the Chemistry library to see if people that I knew were around, and unfortunately, the Frenchman was there-and he gave me a look that was so degrading and so disgusted that I could do nothing but turn around and leave. I then went to Chemistry class, cranky and upset, and ended up saying some very mean things about someone in my class (someone who was in the habit of talking very loudly in class last semester, as well as in general Chemistry the previous year). I then realized that she was listening to every word, which caused me to feel like a horrible, malicious wench (and to top it all off, I believe that my friends might feel the same way about me). I really am not fond of myself when I take my misery out on others.

Calculus lifted my mood a bit, and afterwards I went to the professor for the postponed extra help session. He was very kind and very amiable, and we found ourselves immediately comfortable with each other. He answered my questions and unwittingly helped me to fix a calculator problem that I had been having since the beginning of the first semester.

Later that day I decided to go to a bead store that Guilia had recommended. There was not a huge selection, but there were a number of semi-precious bead strands, and there was a very very large container of mixed beads that was quite a bit of fun to play with. Searching the container for various little treasures was excellent therapy, and I bonded with the woman running the store. Most importantly, I came away with a number of stone beads that were literally one twentieth the price that they would be in any catalog.

Today I am still a bit out of sorts, mostly due to guilt over my cattiness. I am also rather emotionally exhausted. I am, however, ready to start a new day and to be done with various errands.

9:44am: Silly me, I left a very important piece of news out of all of my journal-rambling. On Friday I indeed brought in some of my jewelry creations to show my friends. They were absolutely impressed and decided that I should start selling my work again. They wanted to look at the rest after class, so we met for lunch, and I sat beaming while Guilia and Meilee handled and praised my work. I am thinking of bringing in the rest of my pieces tomorrow...

12:12pm: The big realization.
Lately, I have not been doing well. I have of course been feeling miserable about the state of my romantic life, or rather, the lack thereof. I have also been fairly lonesome and have often felt neglected by the friends that I have made in the post-baccalaureate program. To make matters worse, I have been telling myself things. Horrible things. I have said such terrible things to myself these past few days, it is no wonder that I find myself crying at every turn.

I tell myself: "You are a social outcast. You will never date again, and no one will ever love you." I say to myself: "Nobody cares about you. If you died tomorrow, hardly anyone would notice." I tell myself: "You are pathetic, and everyone else thinks so, too. People only speak to you out of pity." I said some naughty things about that girl in my Chemistry class, and I felt horrible about it afterwards-not only because she might have overheard, but because I absolutely hate being cruel to other human beings. But... where is all of that guilt when I hurt myself? Where is the overwhelming sense that something is wrong? I often forget that I am a person too- and that the cruelty I inflict upon myself has just as much of an impact, if not more, as when I am cruel to others.

I am coming to think that all of the stress that I experience in relationships and class friendships is due to the fact that I set myself up. All of that self-abuse becomes a self-fullfilling prophecy. I convince myself that I cannot be loved, and so I act in a way that makes it difficult for others to love me. I tell myself that I an socially awkward and strange, and I find myself acting in a bizarre manner around friends. Then, after I have caused myself to fail, I see it as proof that all of my insults are true. I am in an abusive relationship of the worst kind- an abusive relationship with myself.

So, here's what I have been thinking: I am terribly gifted at convincing myself of things. Perhaps I could use my powers for good instead of evil, so to speak. Perhaps... all of that "wishy-washy, flowery self esteem training," as I like to call it, actually works. It might take some time to actually believe the positive things that I tell myself, but perhaps with time I will believe it just as whole-heartedly as I believe that I will die alone and be eaten by feral cats (Yes, that is my favorite thing to tell myself).