Saturday, 22 September 2018
I made a new insta account to vent on. I’m happy about it it’s what I need. I’m such a fucking mess. I overdose every night and cut regularly. But cutting my ribs is not as satisfying as ribs. The drugs are working I’m fading away. It’s the only way to avoid cutting. So thankful for my loving cat. I’m so numb like I feel nothing. I don’t attach to anything only my cat. I just don’t care.
What comes after death? Silence or happiness? I just want to know. Is it painful? Do we wander the earth? Suicide sends me to hell. I’m so scared but so suicidal. My blood pressures in the 80s from purging and restricting not that it matters. I’m fat as a cos anyway. I’m a hermit I’m no one.
Tuesday, 18 September 2018
Okay so where to begin. I feel like I can’t vent on my account on instagram due to the public and shit and my job it’s just not respectable. This blog is a secret and my only voice. I can’t bare to tell anyone how bad I’m doing because it’s looks like I’m doing so well from the outside! I’m broke, lonely and sad. But at least I’m tanned. I’m hungry and fat. It never ends. I hate my body and I just medicate it. No one will ever love this mess. That’s the blunt truth. No wonder I have no friends in this town. But I have my cat and I think he likes me. I’m just so exhausted like I want to sleep forever. And then my nightmare continues and I wake up drenched in sweat. It’s horrendous. No one understands how much I’m falling apart. I’m so broken and I have no where to turn. My psychiatrist is too busy, my psychologist would side track me and my mental health nurse would just downplay it. Like is this Just life as a borderline or are my days numbered? I wish I had someone to make a plan with. I wish he would text me back. I wish I had someone who cared. I wish I wasn’t alone. I wish so much and the reality is none of it will come true. The fact is there are more than one person out there for everyone. “The one” is a facade I’m sorry. We all adapt we all move on in time.
Monday, 10 September 2018
No I’m not okay I’m sick of people preaching raising awareness of suicide when it does jack shit for anyone. If someone wants to take their life they do you can’t raise awareness you can only be nice to people and know the implications of your actions. Suicidality and suicide ideation awareness is more fitting. Fuck I know people are trying to raise awareness and that’s good but I’m so angry. I think because I’ve failed so many times? Now I just play with fate. I’m a mess. I can’t cut because I’ve ran out of places and I don’t want bandages all over my arms in this weather but really I’m not doing because I know how judged and but I’m so judged and I feel so ugly. I’m a freak. I’m broken I feel nothing and so much. I’m just so exhausted. This medication this depression is exhausting. Life is exhausting and I don’t know how I’m going to cope with placement or life I have so much uni work to do but instead I spend my day lying in the sun and going to bed at 7 pm. God I’m so tired so I took a bunch of anxiety and antipsychotic meds to drown out the thoughts. Drowningggg