FUCK THIS

Fuck everything.

I was on the bus and an old Indian guy sat next to me, fine. He started brushing my leg with his, okay that could be just the reality of a packed bus. I moved as close to the window as I could get and he started stroking my leg with his finger, underneath my bag, not fucking fine.

I get off the bus in the city that I truly despise, because he lives there, lived there, all those fucked up nights of booze and beatings, I am back there again. It hurts again. Bruises, blood, puke, booze, name calling, taunting, hands all over me, drink drink drink.

I go and get a massive tattoo that took a couple of hours, it hurts like a motherfucker but I don't care. I need the pain. I deserve the pain. The pain in my head is too much to bear without some kind of physical at the same time.

I get home and tell my parents. They couldn't give a shit. My Mum said 'well, what do you expect if you wear shorts like that!"

I was getting an ankle tattoo for fucks sake, and I am wearing tights, it's not exactly like I have slut written over my boobs. Maybe I just have it writen over my face.

SLUT SLUT SLUT.

I want to drink. I want to cut. I want to take all the tablets I have.

I can't cope.

I am so angry and hurt and livid and messed up and chaotic.

I probably won't do anything, because I am a coward, too much of a coward to go jump off a bridge or in front of a car and fucking end it once and for all.

No, I will just sit and stew and hurt and cry and drink myself to oblivion.

Because that's what he taught me and by fuck did I learn well.

Spiteful words can hurt your feelings but silence breaks your heart.

“Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.”
- Neil Gaiman

I am trying so hard to forgive you, to understand you even, but I think a little part of me will always be upset and angry about what you did. The fact that you didn't tell me personally was low. I know that I am probably naive in thinking that friendship should be unconditional, especially friendship that occurs from a support network. I know that sometimes people have to get out before they drown, I understand that completely, I just don't understand why you kicked me in the teeth at my lowest point.

But most of all, I miss you terribly. I miss our bitching and rambling and just having you as a presence in my life.

I am desperate to walk through the door you have left open, but at the same time I feel more than a little hurt that you can't take me as I am.

Marilyn Monroe's quote that I use everything is coming into my head;

'I'm selfish, inpatient, and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control, and at times hard to handle, but if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as Hell don't deserve me at my best.'

But if my worst is too much for the people I love to handle, then something has to give. But how do you give up sickness? It's not a choice, atleast feeling terrible isn't a choice, I get that whether you self-harm or not, or puke or not, or eat or not, get drunk or not, they are all choices... But lying awake at night terrified to sleep because of the memories, feeling physical pain everytime you think about it, fear and doubt and shame and disgust and anger and betrayel and silence and lies and secrets. Where is the choice there?

I cannot escape what he did and I can't stop my head from going back to it, over and over and over again, and tearing me apart in the process.

She'd walk on broken glass for love

"Isn't it lovely, when the dawn brings the dew?

I'll be watching over you
Isn't it lovely, when the dawn brings the dew?
I'll be watching over you

Goodnight my sweetheart
Until we leave tonight
Hold me in your arms
Wish me some luck as you wave goodbye to me

You're the best friends I ever had
Goodnight, sleep tight
Goodnight, God bless
Goodnight, nos da
I'll try my best

Isn't it lovely, when the dawn brings the dew?
I'll be watching over you
Isn't it lovely, when the dawn brings the dew
I'll be watching over you

I will be waiting all my cares are for you
Dreams they leave and die
I'm just gonna close my eyes, think about my family
And shed a little tear

Goodnight, sleep tight
Goodnight, God bless
Goodnight, nos da,
I'll try my best

Isn't it lovely, when the dawn brings the dew?
I'll be watching over you
Isn't it lovely, when the dawn brings the dew?
I'll be watching over you

Leave me, go Jesus
I love you, yeah I love you
Just let me go
I even love the devil
For yes he did me harm
To keep me any longer
'Cos I'm really tired
I'd love to go to sleep and wake up happy
Yeah I'm really tired
I'd love to go to sleep and wake up happy,
Wake up happy."
- William's Last Words, Manic Street Preachers

Everything is going so badly wrong.

I feel like no-one is listening, or that they're ignoring me and thinking that I'm to blame for everything. I can't keep going on like this.

Today's appointment was a complete waste of time, all I get told is to 'find something to do over the summer'. The last couple of days I've felt so low and anxious, I've been binging for the first time in ages but it doesn't help, craving booze and that escape from everything, counting out pills although I know I won't OD, not now anyway... I still have the fucking urges there though.

Sleep isn't an escape because of the nightmares, when I'm awake or out and about I get white noise in my head like a detuned radio and I can't make out what it's saying but it feels like a threat.

I just want this to STOP.

What are you waiting for?

"Come break me down
Bury me, bury me
I am finished with you"
- The Kill, 30 Seconds To Mars

Swimming wasn't nearly as painful as I expected it to be after a two week break. (Well, I did a bit of swimming on holiday but only a few lengths nothing major... Did a lot of walking though so am thinking that kept me form gaining any real weight..) it's funny how easily you get back in the swing of things. I am bloody determinded to try and get a 'good' relationship between food and exercise, I felt shot at after swimming earlier so I brought a bag of Malteaser's from the vending machine - didn't feel guilty, didn't want to binge (well, a little but more out of habit than anything...)

My anxiety has suddenly gone through the roof tonight and the receptionist at the GP's decided that I didn't need my PRN Seroquel anymore so I have nothing except my normal meds, which I shall take in a minute, but I'll fall asleep and sleep scares me, so many nightmares, graphic vivid horrible nightmares...

I still have some random 100mg/25mg pills left but I was sort of maybe saving them for a rainy day... But I need to get out of the habit of stashing pills away for rainy days because being all impulsive and borderline like and OD'ing in the heat of the moment is not good, and OD'ing non fatal amounts as self-harming is stupid. Not that I don't want to do it still, I am just trying to get out of the bad habits. So yeah, I will try and not hoard...

I'm still SI'ing, but only stubbing fags out on my arm... I can'[t cut because of swimming but I do crave the whole blood, pain, needing stitches drama to take me out of the drama in my head.

Am getting into a bit of a state what with the not having an extra 100mg of Seroquel as and when to get me through the day, all the stupid little fears keep coming back in full force... And I have a pysch appointment at Leicester on Friday which I am dreading, partly because I have made the tough desicion to try and tell her everything with the abuse stuff, even though I will probably change my mind about that come Friday...

Ack. I don't know. It's impossible to forget but I don't quite see how reliving it is going to help me... It feels like a poison inside of me that's contaminating everything and yet drawing it out will be a fucking painful process.

Catch-22.

That's me in the corner

"Oh, life is bigger
It's bigger than you
And you are not me
The lengths that I will go to
The distance in your eyes
Oh no, I've said too much
I set it up"
- Losing My Religion, REM

Hai!

Back from Cornwall. I had a fairly nice time but after a few days I get terrible claustrophobia and just want to run away... I spend hour after hour by myself in my room, watching films or boxsets or stand-up, reading, writing, nothing overly exciting, but I need the space to do that and after a few days of not having 'me time' I get tetchy and irritable and need my own room/space back.

I feel like such a big fake, I go away and act normally and I manage it but it's like the strain of it now is kicking in and all I want is to do is self-destruct because I am so drained, and I doubt the reality of everything because if I can hide it for a few days then why not always? I don't know...I guess because 'faking it' drains you and leaves you feeling like you don't have anything left to give. I don't mean that to sound as 'end of the road' as it does, I don't mean that I don't have anything left to give or get from life, just that my acting skills are shabby and after a bit I just can't do it anymore.

I'm back to where I was just before I went on holiday, and it was shit and horrible then and it's just the same now, but I'm weaker and less able to deal with it because I'm so tired from 'faking' being okay and normal and perfectly fucking fine. At the same time I can see things more clearly...

I passed first year and I can't wait to get back to uni and I'm determinded to work hard, play hard and genrelly make the most of it.

I have thought about the future and about Brighton again for the first time in ages and how I ultimately want to end up down there, working and living and being.

I haven't really thought much beyond that, but at least that's something...

Being back at home, back here, just makes everything resurface... It always will. It's not a safe place and I don't know how to make it one. At least mentally, I don't know how to get that sort of 'feeling' and emotion, Leicester feels better, being in London has always felt like home, but the small amount of time I spent in Brighton beat everything hands down.

And then I start thinking about if I'll live on my own, or if I'll share with friends... That makes me panic out of my skin because I'm sure everyone will get bored or sick of me and not want to be my friend but thinking like that is almost a self-fulfilling prophecy and I need to snap out of it and most of all learn to be okay in my own skin because if you don't love yourself then who the Hell else is going to want to know?

Going to the Leicester pysch at the end of the week - nervous and uncertain - don't know what I want, don't know what to say, just a huge amount of don't know!

The music or the misery?

"They don't even know what it is to be a fan. Y'know? To truly love some silly little piece of music, or some band, so much that it hurts."
- Almost Famous

I get too close to things, invest too much of myself into them. Films, books, tv shows, fictional characters and especially music and bands. It means that all the things other people do to relax carries weight, and that weight is heavy and hurts sometimes, or it feels overwhelming, either positively or negatively, so it's not very relaxing at all. I have to find other things to do to relax, and that's when things get ugly...

But who are you if you're not the things you love passionately?

No-one. At least that's who I'd be. Even more of a no-one.

Suicide isn't painless

"Do not despair of your life. You have force enough to overcome your obstacles."
- Henry David Thoreau

When my Mum was in hospital pregnant with me she became friends with this other woman who's son was born a couple of days before me. They're really close, and I used to stay over her house if my parents were away and play with the son and his little sister.

This morning she rang to say that he'd tried to hang himself.

For the first time in my life I saw my Mum crying. I know that I should say something but what? I can't process this without bringing myself into the equation, my recent overdoses that were, at least one of the time, a genuine attempt at suicide. How the Hell can I say anything with that weight, and seeing my Mum so upset when so many times she's left at home whilst my Dad rushes me to A&E. I never see her upset and it's fucking chilled me to the core.

I can't understand it either, he was completely normal, in the sense that he doesn't have previous depression or generel lack of mental health. He went to uni, graduated, he's been struggling to find a job but is that really what tips people over the edge like that?

I'm more scared than I have ever been in my life, because if it can happen to the least likely person I would ever imagine it to, then what about it happening to the friends that you fear for, or love more, or just the person walking down the other side of the street...

What if they're all thinking about dying?

I'm sorry. I just feel so terrible for everyone involved and yet so alienated by the whole thing when really, I should be the one person here that can understand and make some sense of it.

Crash, crash, burn

No matter how many times that you told me you wanted to leave
No matter how many breaths that you took you still couldn't breathe
No matter how many nights that you lied wide awake to the sound of the poison rain

Where did you go? where did you go? where did you go?

Heart beat, a heart beat, I need a... heart beat, a heart beat...

Tell me would you kill to save for a life?
Tell me would you kill to prove you're right?
Crash, crash, burn let it all burn
This hurricane is chasing us all underground.

No matter how many deaths that I die, I will never forget
No matter how many lives I live, I will never regret
There's a fire inside this heart and a riot about to explode into flames
Where is your God? Where is your God? Where is your God? ...

Do you really want?
Do you really want me?
Do you really want me dead?
Or alive to torture for my sins?

Do you really want?
[heart beat, a heart beat]
Do you really want me?
[I need a.. heart beat, a heart beat]
Do you really want me dead?
[you know I gotta leave, I can't stay,
I know I gotta go, I can't stay]
Or alive to live a lie?

Tell me would you kill to save a life?
Tell me would you kill to prove you're right?
Crash, crash, burn let it all burn
This hurricane's chasing us all underground
You say you wrong, you wrong, I'm right, I'm right, you're wrong, we fight
Ok, I'm running from the light, running from the day to night
Oh, the quiet silence defines our misery
The riot inside keeps trying to visit me
No matter how we try, it's too much history
Too many bad notes playing in our symphony
So let it breathe, let it fly, let it go
Let it fall, let it crash, burn slow
And then you call upon God
Oh you call upon God

Tell me would you kill to save a life?
Tell me would you kill to prove you're right?
Crash, crash, burn let it all burn
This hurricane chasing us all underground

This hurricane...

Do you really want?
Do you really want me?
Do you really want me dead?
Or alive to torture for my sins?

Do you really want?
Do you really want me?
Do you really want me dead?
Or alive to live a lie

Running away from the night, running away from the light
Running away to save your life

- Hurricane by 30 Seconds to Mars

I am in love with this song at the minute, I tried to cover it last night but my voice and guitar playing were terrible!

I am finding it really difficult to cope with this overwhelming feeling of rejection I've been sitting with all week. A lot of people aren't speaking to me right now, not just people but friends, real friends who were right up on my list of awesome people. I cried myself to sleep last night because people are abandoning me, and that brings out my 'personality disorder' and all the destructive urges and fucked up feelings that go with it. Even the friend who called the police isn't speaking to me. That hurts. It makes me angry because I think well why fuck up my suicide attempt by intervening (because I persume you care about me) and then not speak to me... I get angry and pissed off because I feel like I'm owed an explanation and that I need to put things right straight away.

I know that I am difficult and I am especially difficult at the minute, because it's summer, and summer is hard and I just want to self-destruct over the season to take away the fucking pain of remembering everything and it makes me do stupid things, like drink too much and overdose, but when I'm doing that crap I am not 'me' because I am so fucking absent from it and then I come back to myself and think 'fucking Hell, I am such a cunt!'

All I want is to put right what's gone wrong...

Tilly is keeping me busy and taking my mind off things (although sometimes I just have to put her to bed because I can't cope and then I feel gulty and worthless because I can't even look after my kitten and love her as much as she needs me too...) and the extra Seroquel and feeling a little woozy during the day isn't such a bad thing... Although it feels more like I can't be bothered to act on the urges rather than them going away... The night time is still awful and the slightest thing makes me drop right back down again, but then the slightest thing can make me insanely happy/excited...

I feel so vulnerable and delicate and breakable and it scares me... It scares me knowing that the flashbacks and nightmares will just get worse and worse and that the noise will just get louder or turn into a voice...