Saturday, 14 August 2010

You said you read me like a book, but the pages all are torn and frayed

"Well if you wanted honesty, that's all you had to say.
I never want to let you down or have you go, it's better off this way.
For all the dirty looks, the photographs your boyfriend took,
Remember when you broke your foot from jumping out the second floor?"
'I'm Not Okay (I Promise) by My Chemical Romance

I just got an email from Sylthia (pyschotherapist) to tell me that I've been booked in for Friday.

That's okay though, right? I have enough time to figure out what I want to say and maybe write it down or something.

Triggered badly to SI, the only thing stopping me is the thought of having to go home early because I 'broke the rules', I think that would just about finish my relationship with my parents and that's the last thing I want to do right now.

Gotta put them first and me second...

But then I go into thinking too much about everything and having no outlet.

If the doctor doesn't give me a couple week supply of some kind of benzo/sedative then it's all going to go to shit and the anxiety will actually take on a life of it's own and I'll just get all delusional and crap like before and the thought of going through that again is making me more anxious than ever...

People think I'm fine

I talk, laugh, smoke, eat, drink, go out, buy things, engage, blah blah blah

I am behaving myself

I am not self harming

Inside I am screaming

I am convinced I am going to kill myself the moment I get home

Not because I want to die, because I don't, I fucking love life so badly, even when it's shitty I know that there are good things out there for me, gigs and friends and fun, I never lose sight of that

But I am so desperate not to feel over the next few weeks

To not live through the agony of waiting to hear that my Mum has died


It is a lose I am more afraid of than anything, the thing I fear more than anything and at times I feel delusional about it, like it's all in my head, but I know that my head only makes it worse, there is a little bit of truth in all the anxiety and fear

I'm becoming increasingly irrational

Somehow I can convince myself that my ex will find me out and beat me, rape me, kill me and part of me wants him to come, a bigger part of me wishes he'd just fucking killed me all those years ago and then I wouldn't be around now to feel so fucking much

Everything is so intense, colours and sounds and darkness

But I am fine

Fine fine fine

Completely fine

Because they say so

Maybe they actually want me to die

That makes so much sense

That's why they haven't ever listened to me properly

This is what they want

Well fuck them!

1 comment:

  1. I understand the desperation to die, but the desperation to want to live. That awful fear and terror and contradiction.
    I love life, but I'm so desperate I could kill myself.
    BE SAFE Em ((((hugs)))