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I could do with some kind words, or even just virtual hugs.
I'm struggling and I'm tired and I'm running out of energy.

I've got a sore bit on my neck and I am so scared.
Claire took me to the GP and he said it's just a gland.
But I'm scared I'm infected, scared I'm gonna be stuck alive forever and I can barely take being here right now.
Crisis team were offered but I hate them and I don't know what they could do anyway, possibly tell me to grow a pair,which you never know it might have worked, I'm sick of being pathetic and miserable.

The truth hurts

I managed to be honest with Luke about just how bad I have been feeling.
I told him that I've been feeling suicidal and having really bad self-harm urges.
He is really upset and worried and now I feel so guilty about being honest because I hate hurting and worrying people.
But then if I didn't tell him I'd feel guilty for hiding things, I can't win.

I'm going away for the weekend to my Grandparents golden wedding anniversary party. I don't know how I'll cope with it, too much socialising and pressure, I'm going to really struggle to hold it together.

Oh and I got my hair cut yesterday, it's horrible and it makes me realise just how much weight I have put on round my face.


I am so tired.
I'm always tired at the moment.
And I seem to be losing the ability to communicate properly.
I'm withdrawing, talking complete rubbish to people instead of talking about how I'm feeling.
I feel like an egg about to hatch.
And I'm more and more convinced my tablets were nothing but a chemical straightjacket to control me when I lacked self control.
And I know I have control now, at least 6 months self harm free.

Long time, no see

I'm home at my Mum's.
Life in Nottingham is good. Lots of walking, lazing in the park and allotments.
I survived sweden, which I am so proud of.
I had a few panic attacks and a minor meltdown. But I got there, I coped with sharing a house with people I didn't know. They all saw my scars because I dared go saunaing with everyone. But no one judged. And they were so lovely about my whole "can't wash my hair in strange places" thing. One of them lent me her shampoo and i washed it in the sauna showers when everyone else was there so I didn't freak out about what I couldn't see without my glasses.

Home at my Mums now. I hate it. She keeps going on about how it's meant to be my home. If it was truly my home she wouldn't be clearing out any trace of me though. I'm meant to take all my kids soft toys and board games and everything back to nottingham with me. I'm hearing drums that don't exist. I run out of antipsychotics tomorrow. We went to a street theatre performance with these drumming devils, but they had eyes like vampires. I was so scared. One stared at me and I knew he knew that I knew. He could have savaged me in the street and everyone would think it was part of the act.

Blood: The Last Vampire

It's everywhere. Sodding trailors on TV, posters on bus stops. I can't avoid it. It's not fair.

Mum was raving about how much she liked Twilight this weekend. How she wished she'd brought the DVD for me to watch. LOL

Had a nice weekend though Mum got raelly teary and upset on Friday. She misses my sister and I, her boyfriend does bugger all to help her round the house and her job is stressing her out. We talked a little about my self-harm and Freya's. Mum said "well Freya's legs are so bad she won't even go swimming with me, even though I've seen them." Freya doesn't make an effort to hide them and truth be told they aren't bad in the slightest. If Mum knew what I was concealing beneath my clothes, she'd be horrified. I'm sick of sodding scars. I ended up sending an email to a cosmetic surgery place to try and see how much surgery would be to remove them Out of my price range for certain, but maybe something to save for.

Had an interesting conversation with my Mum about a friend of hers who killed herself. Mum said she always seemed so fragile and that she wouldn't have expected her to kill herself because to commit suicide takes real strength. Would she think me a coward then if she knew of my attempts? Is it normal to think of suicides as being strongwilled? Or is this some other fucked up family trait of mine. Hmm I don't know.

Luke's back tomorrow, can't wait. I need a cuddle.


I wonder which it is that disturbs me more now, the past I've tried to erase from myself, or the methods by which I tried to erase those memories.

I remember being strip-searched in a freezing cold police station. Having to squat, I was on my period and was worried I would drip blood on the floor. I remember standing up again and being asked "what's that you've written all over yourself?". DNR,DNR,DNR,DNR,DNR,DNR, over and over and over again. On every available surface of skin, so that if by some miracle I survived the fall the hospital would know my wishes.

Writing all over my bedroom wall in blood.




I lose my eloquence at my most vulnerable evidently.

Running down the street being chased by paramedics, my dressing-gown billowing open, I was naked underneath but that didn't matter, all I could think about was running, hair streaming behind me. But my freedom was all to brief.

Standing on the flyover, legs wobbling, cars rushing by below me. Then no more cars, the road closed off, queues forming, tailbacks because of my stupidity.

Pacing in a hospital waiting room, back and forth between the bathroom where I would swallow more of that days favoured poison. Having to tell the nurse what it was I had taken, "well you're creative in your suicidality aren't you?" An accolade perhaps I wish I hadn't earnt.

On a hospital ward, drip in my arm surrounded by old ladies slowly dying and middle-age ladies having their gallstone removed. "So what're you in for duck?" Well obviously I wasn't going to tell them of my new, unique form of self-torture.

And finding out of the night that was erased from my memory. All I remember is being sat there on the sofa, 2 gaping holes in my arm that I don't remember doing, bruised and rope-burnt neck, anxious housemates fussing round, howling and screaming about how I needed an end. Even the next day I couldn't remember the earlier part of that night but I found out recently the truth. They arrived home as I was hanging, they tied me down. I was vomiting and vomiting everywhere. Fighting, biting and cursing as i tried to throw myself over the bannisters, anything to escape, any way for it to be over.

Launching myself out the window as Luke grabbed my ankles and hauled me back in.

All of this it haunts me. I hate how everyone got dragged in to my own personal tragedy, Luke, Housemates, Friends, Police, Ambulance, Innocent Passers-By, Hospital Patients. This is the stuff of my nightmares now. Yes there's still the occasional one, I'm on my stomach, he's above me, heavy, grunting, I press my face in the pillow to try block it all out. But yet that disturbs me less than the trauma I inflicted upon myself. I am forever looking over my shoulder, watching, worrying that depression will catch up with me some day and clame me as her own again. I will become a human banshee and howl with the wind, wail and gnash my teeth and carve up my arms into bitesized portions. I take my tablets religiously to try and ward off the beast, I feel like I want something solid, a horseshoe above my door, symbols carved into the wall, to protect me from that force. I do not want to be possessed again, to lose myself amongst my mind, to wage war on myself, who could be the victor in that battle?

I think I'm getting there!

Well I did it, managed to complete my year back at uni and sit all my end of year exams. I'm constantly being told by people how well and happy I'm looking, my psychologist has said it, my Dad has said it and both my support worker and psych have said it!

I've been told by my support worker I've made the most progress within a year of anyone she's ever known. I've gone from being completely disabled by my mental health to well on the road to recovery. To think I was nearly sectioned in January, but am now nearly 3 months 3 is a vast difference between the two.

I thought I'd never get to this point, I'd all but given up getting better at some points this year.  Obviously it's not all my achievement, it's also down to supportive boyfriends, support worker and psych who have taken me seriously and listened, changing degree, living in a house that really feels like home.

I'm a bit scared now though, I am terrified of going back to the lows I have had. What if depression is something I'm always going to have to watch out for, that it will always be nipping at my heels. I don't think I'd survive another episode as severe as I have had, that's a scary thought.

Roll on tomorrow

Luke moves in for good tomorrow.
I need him, I really do.

I was sexually assaulted by my neighbour yesterday.
I'm a doormat. I let anyone do whatever they want to me.
It's stupid that something so little could make me start thinking of death and destruction and bleeding again.
I can't self harm though, I really can't. I promised I wouldn't. And it's been far too long, the urge is too great if I lost control it would be stitches and nerve damage and the works again. I got given 6 weeks of meds yesterday, so much trust. I have been getting better and one touch from one man and I'm a wreck again.

I've had really horrible dreams, I fall between two trams and I get squashed and I urinate everywhere. I am bleeding everywhere. And other scary things, my throat is ripped open, jugulars spurting, it's them of course.

Slow progress

I can write about 300-400 words at a time before my concentration goes. I'm making painfully slow progress on my uni work, it really is taking forever.

I thought it was nearly finished but this last bit really is a long hard slog.
I am mentally exhausted, my brain needs a holiday. It's threatening to go all floaty and weird on me, which is fine if I'm wanting to write stories and poetry, but not for academic essays.

I went for a walk today and I felt separate from everyone,  it was like I was walking underwater, everything was there, just somehow detached from me, like some kind of invisible barrier. I went to the park to do poi, the whirling and floaty patterns help concentrate my mind a bit. But it was too windy to do too much.

My hair is getting manky. I need to find a way of washing it in my house alone without freaking out. It has been a week since I washed it last and I've got another 8 days till Luke returns, I feel gross.

edit: I've just found a paper that was published in september 2009. WTF?! Either I've lost a few months of my life or something funny is going on.


I've had a weird achey and stuff back, neck and jaw all day.
I got all paranoid it was dystonia again. Talked to the pharmacist and they said to wait a day or two.
That's scary because of how bad it was last time.
It's not gotten much worse but I'm still nervous of taking my AP tonight.
I'm alone in the house and don't fancy a midnight dash to A+E
It's a pity because I definately have felt calmer and less fearful on it.