Relapse

Been writing this for a while when I can get a chance away from the watching eyes of the nurses.

I'm back in hospital. Been here since saturday morning. Predictable considering the last post.

Sadly they found my pills. I had over ninety pills hidden in a locker at school in case there was no other way out. Now there really is no way out and that terrifies me. I was so angry I started cutting myself again. It was also to prove that I could. That they couldn't stop me if I really wanted to do something.

But do I want to do something? Clearly not otherwise I guess I would have done already. So what do I want? What's the point? If anyone has any ideas they would be greatly appreciated.

Letters from the dead

I saw my ex today! We ended on good terms and he's still one of my best friends so it was great to see him as he's just come back from Uni. I was so happy to see him but after he left I felt really weird. I'm not sure what I felt weird about or why, I just felt unsettled.

                        I want to die

Went back to school after lunch with him and was greeted with cold stares from the girls in my house (its like a boarding house but for day students). Obviously this put a downer on my mood. Even more than it usually would because its been going on for days and there's no reason for it to. I feel like a nobody and an outsider in the place where I spend most of my time. Yes it happens to everybody but that doesn't stop you feeling like shit.

I'm not meant to be here

Its not that they all dislike me. There are eight of us in our year in the house and two very divided groups. Three in one and three in the other - yes I can count - and Tara and Me. We're in the middle. Best friends. The problem is that she is better friends with one group and I'm closer to the other. She is also one of the sportiest people on the planet which means that shes never in the house and I'm left in the house on my own with one group that doesn't like me and the others who like me but are too wrapped up in girl world to remember me. So after feeling shit which sadly caused me to feel depressed (which irratatingly causes motor retardation in me so I can hardly walk, talk or think) I then had to go sit through an hour of studying how the infrared spectra something molecular does something to something. As you can see, no matter how many hundreds of times I read the paragraph it didn't sink in. Et voila! More depressed. My car is now stuck at school because I can't drive when I'm depressed - motor retardation etc, - last time I did I got three points on my license and I only have one chance left. Instead I got a lift back with some friends which cheered me up. Good mood finally!

Let me die

I've just finished having dinner with my parents and a few of their friends including my uncle who had us all in stitches for the majority of the night. He told a particularly brilliant story about his pencil sharpening obsession. It was a really fun evening. SO WHY COULD I NOT STOP PLANNING MY SUICIDE NOTE.

I wrote a fucking guest list. The names of people who I would write to. What I would say. How they would discover it (This blog is my suicide note in case of emergeancy and the web address would be written on the left door of my left-hand cupboard). I planned every scenario whilst laughing along to everyone's jokes and smiling with my parents.

 I am here for them and no matter how hard it is I need to stay here for them.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

Ok so a few things may have got to me recently.

1. A certain someone who is hugely arrogant and annoying and not pretty and not funny and shouldn't have friends but for some reason does, not that I like many of her friends very much.
Things I hate about her:

• Biggest suck up you'll ever meet (apart from C).
• She is so naive but thinks she knows everything.
• Thinks she's super intelligent but actually she just has to work super hard.
• The fake-cute voice, combined with her moon face and her prissy prance its not pleasant.
• Her walk. Seriously. Makes you want to stab her.

2. Everybody having all the private chats about silly little things that no one cares about but are to important for anyone that isn't their bestest best friend. FUCK OFF I don't give a shit I just don't want to awkwardly sit here like a lemon because you can't let me hear what BLAH totally said about BLAH. OMBLAH.

3. Arrogant little bitches in the year below. Really? You're going to say rude comments to look cool to your little friend? I could tell you all about how you look like a rat and are going to fail in life because you have the mental capacity of a mole. But no. As your HOUSE PREFECT I'll just be a petty bitch and give you a 10 page essay on arrogance and rudeness due tomorrow. Call me what you like, you can have another 10 pages if you're that desperate.

I'm fine I swear

Tonight I got home determined I was going to do it. I tried not to think about it but I had this huge rush of adrenalin. I sat here in front of this computer trying to write, to get the emotions out before they killed me.

My parents came back. So did reality.

I wish that everyone would just turn round to me and say its ok, we'll be fine. Because I'll be fine. Nothing would ever be able to make me not fine again.

Sex, Love and Lies

When I was younger I was a slut. I lost my virginity at 14 and it meant nothing to me. The boyfriend I lost it to told me he loved me which for some reason I'm still not sure about freaked me out so much I then slept with his two best friends. I used people and sometimes got with people just because someone else fancied them. Maybe it was because I had no self confidence and used sex as a form of self destruction. Or maybe I just wanted to.

I don't believe in love. Not in the romantic sense. I'm not really sure what I think about it. I know that I love my family but thats different, although I'm not sure why. I thought I was in love once and he said he loved me, but four months later it turns out he didn't mean the same thing. It scares me that no one will ever love me and for some reason I feel like no one can, like somethings wrong with me. I used people in the past so that no one could use me. I gave that up this summer and ended up being used so now I think I'm going to scrap that idea.

Fuck you to everyone who claims they care. I don't give a shit, its all fucking fake. I give up pretending that sex means something. I was right the first time round. Fuck you to all the people that pretend it does. Climb out of your naive little boxes and realise that nothing matters. Its only society that says we should be nice to each other. In reality all people care about is themselves.

People are nice to make themselves feel like a good person. You give to charity so that you don't feel guilty about people less well off, and get pleasure out of being a kind person. No one would do it if it made them feel shit in order to let someone else get the benefit. You say you love someone so they will say it back and you can feel like your the centre of someones universe. In the words of Rihanna:

Want you to make me feel like I’m the only girl in the world

Like I’m the only one that you’ll ever love
Like I’m the only one who knows your heart.

Miss Q

Miss Q was not a friend. I don't remember why she decided to confide in me but she did. I don't know what was true, maybe all of it.

This is what little I remember of her story: Her father would physically abuse her and her brother. He beat her and locked her in the bathroom for hours and wouldn't allow her to eat. She was very depressed and wanted to kill herself.

Having heard this of course I wanted to help her. I'm a good listener and at age 12 there wasn't much more I could do. I didn't notice that her depression was beginning to drag me down too. One day she sent me a note. She had taken three sleeping pills that night. The next day another note arrived claiming she had taken four. This went on for another four days until I couldn't take it anymore. I ran to the headmistress and burst into the middle of a meeting in floods of tears. I thrust the note into her hand shouting I can't handle this and ran out.

I don't know/remember what happened after that. But I hated Miss Q for dumping that on me - which was a bit unfair of me as it was her plea for help and I had made the decision to help her. I was a bitch. I spread rumours about her being a lesbion, which back at age 12 was very very bad. Don't get me wrong, I'm not homophobic at all, but back then we weren't old enough to understand.

Since then I have always had issues about telling people if I am depressed because I don't want to trigger their depression or weigh them down with my shit. I have now forgiven Miss Q, although I don't think she ever realised that I hated her. I haven't seen her since I left that school so she wouldn't know I'd forgiven her either.

Fears and Phobias

1. Invasion of Personal Space ( IPS )
2. Invasion of Privacy ( IPrv )
3. Claustrophobia

My three main fears (that I can think of now). Pretty linked. Nothing has ever happened to me in life that I am aware of to provide a rational excuse for this. My Claustrophobia has addmittedly got better, but the other two have got worse.

Today I just got back from Morocco. Amazing trip had a lovely time. UNTIL IPS ruined it. Thats all it took. A whole holiday ruined and my good mood streak shattered. Yes that dramatically. Thats how strong my IPS fear is. It was an hours car journey spent in the middle seat ( which was not really meant to be a middle seat ) sandwiched between my brother and my mum. The smaller I tried to make myself the more they spread out. And to top that off I get carsick. It was very windy roads.

Since I got out of hospital I've also had this wierd thing about people touching me. Sometimes its there, sometimes its not. When its there I can't handle people standing next to me which is partly IPS and hugs are the most terrifying thing in the world.

IPS and IPrv literally make me want to slit my wrists. I get so angry with the culprits I want to destroy them. Not just physically hurt them, sabotage their whole lives. This is how hugely this affects me.

NB to the people that read this blog that I know in real life: I do not have IPS all the time! It will be obvious when I do.

Hypochondria

Last week my snot was orange. And no google, I do not mean that it had blood in it. It was FANTA orange. No green, not brown, not yellow, not pink or red. ORANGE. Why is this relevant? Because instead of thinking, like a normal person, I must have breathed in something wierd - like when you go somewhere dusty - I decided my brain was swelling (multiple emminent aneurisms perhaps) and the liquid that surrounds it was coming out my nose. Resulting in death.

Every tiny little sickness I get, I immediately think is a deadly disease. The other week I had a headache, a cough, feeling sick and a temperature. I convinced myself - genuinely believed - that I had a stiff neck aswell. Meningitis. Ok, your thinking maybe she's just cautious, those syptoms could easily be meningitis. And the pains that I get in my chest - logical answer is heartburn, my answer is heart attack. Sharp headache? Brain haemorrhage. Cough? Tuberculosis.

A quarter of me knows I don't have these illnesses. Half of me does genuinely believe I do. And you know whats really fucked up? That last quarter of me... wants these illnesses.

Do I want to die? Do I want sympathy? Do I want the attention?

I don't know. I don't think so. But maybe subconciously its a bit of all three.