I'm going to a funeral tomorrow. A funeral of a friend who didn't get the chance to become an adult and see where life could take her. The circumstances are much, much closer to home than is comfortable.
But I have experience on my side. I have a great support network and great friends. I'm not depressed yet, I'm just mourning like anyone would.
I won't let the stress and the illnesses kill me. I have seen TOO MANY times the devastation it leaves behind. Its not just you're own life you're taking. Remember that.
R.I.P girly I'm sorry that you could see no other way out.
Showing posts with label History. Show all posts
Showing posts with label History. Show all posts
Thursday, 2 June 2011
Monday, 15 November 2010
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 loveLike I’m the only one who knows your heart.
Sunday, 7 November 2010
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.
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.
Friday, 29 October 2010
L'histoire de moi
Ok well I can't remember what I've said in my other blogs about my past but here it's is in full(well more of an overview actually):
I have never had a long term best friend. Since I was a child I flitted about from friend to friend which was probably early signs of my disorder. During my childhood I would have phases were I was popular and then suddenly feel like no one liked me - all in my head because in other people's reality nothing had changed.
At the age of about 8 I began to feel as though I wasn't part of the world everyone else was living in. At 10 I had a premonition that I would not live longer than 14 years old.
Between 11 and 12 yro I entered self destruction mode. I became paranoid and obsessed, believing my parent didn't love me but adored my brother. I found pictures everywhere of the three of them looking so happy and I began to convince myself that they no longer loved me and would carry on to lead perfectly normal lives with out me in it.
I have suffered from insomnia most of my life and during this period I spiralled down into an inexplicable black depression at age 12. I began to steal gin and whiskey from my parents cabinet and would have a drinking glass amount of spirit every day before school. I stopped sleeping completely at night and would pass out during the day. My world became a living nightmare. My brain twisted everything to evil. You can't run away from your mind.
I also had pressure from another source I shall refer to as miss q. I think I will continue this story in another post.
Eventually there was the breaking point. Triggered by my mum shouting at me for doing the microwave wrong. This was then twisted to evil and became the final proof that she didn't love me. I had created a suicide kit in advance consisting of a waterbottle filled with gin,
and a few paracetamol. I took these and then panicked I rushed into every room and stuffed handfuls of all the pill I could find into my mouth. In total I took over 60 pills.
On November 30th - my OD day - I will probably go into more detail ahoy that night but for now all you need to know I went to hospital and survived. I was not able to look my parents in the eyes for a long time.
After that my parents began to take me more seriously but it was not until this year when I was diagnosed that they truly believed me. I know that they asked my councellors once if I was just doing it for attention. I shall end part one just before my new school, my attempt at a fresh start.
I have never had a long term best friend. Since I was a child I flitted about from friend to friend which was probably early signs of my disorder. During my childhood I would have phases were I was popular and then suddenly feel like no one liked me - all in my head because in other people's reality nothing had changed.
At the age of about 8 I began to feel as though I wasn't part of the world everyone else was living in. At 10 I had a premonition that I would not live longer than 14 years old.
Between 11 and 12 yro I entered self destruction mode. I became paranoid and obsessed, believing my parent didn't love me but adored my brother. I found pictures everywhere of the three of them looking so happy and I began to convince myself that they no longer loved me and would carry on to lead perfectly normal lives with out me in it.
I have suffered from insomnia most of my life and during this period I spiralled down into an inexplicable black depression at age 12. I began to steal gin and whiskey from my parents cabinet and would have a drinking glass amount of spirit every day before school. I stopped sleeping completely at night and would pass out during the day. My world became a living nightmare. My brain twisted everything to evil. You can't run away from your mind.
I also had pressure from another source I shall refer to as miss q. I think I will continue this story in another post.
Eventually there was the breaking point. Triggered by my mum shouting at me for doing the microwave wrong. This was then twisted to evil and became the final proof that she didn't love me. I had created a suicide kit in advance consisting of a waterbottle filled with gin,
and a few paracetamol. I took these and then panicked I rushed into every room and stuffed handfuls of all the pill I could find into my mouth. In total I took over 60 pills.
On November 30th - my OD day - I will probably go into more detail ahoy that night but for now all you need to know I went to hospital and survived. I was not able to look my parents in the eyes for a long time.
After that my parents began to take me more seriously but it was not until this year when I was diagnosed that they truly believed me. I know that they asked my councellors once if I was just doing it for attention. I shall end part one just before my new school, my attempt at a fresh start.
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