Moving Forward

I've done something I didn't think I could do.
I threw the tablets away. I didn't realize how had that would be until I was standing over the toilet with them.
Also, turns out they don't flush well. I had to flush the toilet about 7 times to try and get rid of them but I've pretty much done it. I'm proud of myself. I kept them as a backup plan and now I got rid of them. I don't need them.

Therapy Food

Therapy was not fun today, I could handle the having to talk about how I feel suicidal and everything but lunch... Just... No. I couldn't do it.
I try there, I really try, I eat like I'm supposed to and I don't make myself sick, I've only done that once and that was because I ate too much. But today has thrown my whole eating out of balance, I still feel sick now from it.

I had two rolls, one egg mayonnaise and the other chicken with some rocket. Nice right? Wrong. The roll with the chicken was moldy and I didn't find out till I was halfway through it! Well, obviously I ran to the bathroom and was violently sick, to the point blood was coming up. I threw up so hard I sat on the toilet floor for five minutes unable to move. It was horrible, I was still dry heaving with nothing left in my stomach. It hurt so bad, I don't think I can ever eat there again.

They keep freezing, defrosting, freezing, and defrosting over and over again and it's just fucked with the food. It shouldn't be stale let alone moldy. I complained about it because even now as I said, I feel sick. I just managed to keep dinner down but even now I feel like I might be sick.

God I just can't get over it. it's just so wrong. People there (myself included) have eating problems and that's only going to make it worse. I can't eat their food again, I refuse.

Urgh, they tried to make me talk about what was said in small group during feedback and I swear I wanted to punch all of them because when I said leave it, they just wouldn't. Like I get they're concerned about me but when one of the other service users said leave it they did! So why the fuck didn't they me????
What was even worse was one of the therapists said "Is it okay if we bring up you're feeling suicidal?" Like well fuck, you already brought it up so why fucking ask me if you;'re just going to mention it anyway? I tried to stop her and answer halfway through soon as I knew what she was going to say but nope, she continued in her sentence so everyone got to know about it and pester me. This is why I don't like talking in small group because it's going to get dragged up at feedback. One of the therapists even said "Well we do need to know about this stuff." She's going to fucking tell you at the end of the day if she hasn't already in your little fucking meetings so why do I have to tell everyone in the group? They're not going to be able to do shit when I'm home and all I have are my thoughts and the pills next to me, calling me, begging me to take them.
Wow I swore a lot, but it really pissed me off.

I don't know if I want to stay alive right now, I'm getting in the shower and probably going to be taking in a new razor blade I just got so we'll see where that goes, knowing me I'll do a shitty job anyway and just be left with chicken scratches, I can't even self harm right how pathetic is that?

Hate Having to Feel

I hate emotions right now, I hate them, I don't fucking want them. The past few days I've been emotionless and I loved it, now our cat is going to be put down today because she can no longer stand and boom, the emotions are back. I don't want them, I don't want to sit here crying as I type, I need to shut them off.
Why do we have to have emotions? They just compromise everything, someone's done something bad but you still love them. Well then you're a fucking idiot but that's emotions for you, you can't help it and it fucking sucks! I wish there was an on off switch I could just flick it and not have any feelings. Just be a blank person. It'd be so much easier.

We're All Mad Here

I honestly don't know what to do anymore, my mind is so fucked I'm pretty sure it's beyond repair.
I can't tell anyone though, gotta keep it secret or I'm gonna end up sectioned and I vowed never to go back in one of those, they'd have to take me in kicking and screaming.
But I know I should be in one and that's what scares me the most. I mean, I strangled myself at therapy yesterday! I went into the bathroom, tied my hoodie cords around my neck and pulled. I went purple, I was close to blacking out from it but then my hands let go and it loosened. What's funny is I then went outside and others were there and I did it again in front of them, I just zoned out and clamped my hands around my throat and squeezed as hard as I could, I would of kept going but one asked if I was ok and that snapped me out.

I even thought about throwing myself over the banister by the toilets, there's a flight of stairs next to it and if I landed right I could break my neck. I quickly moved on when one of the therapists came in to go to the toilet and say me. I just said i'm fine and walked away.
See? I need help, a lot of help but I don't want it at the same time. I don't want to go back into a hospital, it'll set me back, I know it will and what if they don't let me leave? What if I can't lie my way out of it again like I did the last time? Urgh I don't know what I should do.


I told my mum what happened that day and I explained I knew I was a danger to myself because I wasn't depressed. I was nothing, empty, just a shell and that's usually when I'm gonna do something (on which I did but failed.) She wanted to call the crisis team, I said I wouldn't talk to them but she decided she was going to talk to them anyway but then when we got home she changed her mind simply because I refused to talk to them, like if you want to talk to them about concerns fucking go for it, don't let me stop you.

I want to cut the fat off me today, not kill myself simply because I got my hair done and want to show it off a little first but what's the point in having nice hair if you're a fat, ugly, piece of shit? You can put make-up on a pig but it's still a pig. I'm hoping losing weight will help me but it's so hard to lose it, I just keep gaining, whether I starve, eat, vomit it up, eat healthy, eat unhealthily, exercise, I just always gain weight, I'm going to be a fat cunt for the rest of my life, which maybe won't be much longer.
People say I'm pretty but I say they're lying, I'm not pretty, I'm far from it and they know that, they're just trying to boost my confidence, well, I have no confidence so please just stop trying, you only make me feel worse and I don't need pity.

I'm worried about what i'm going to do tonight but yet I'm also peaceful about it all, we'll just have to see.

These Are The Voices In My Head

One of the many things I need to talk about. The voices. Two in fact. No, not like schizophrenia, least I don't think so, okay so sometimes I can see them and feel them but that doesn't make me schizophrenic right?

Anyway these voices are a pain in my arse, not just by them being there but also the fact people make their own diagnosis and assume I'm saying I have different personalities and then say I'm faking it. I'm not faking shit. Although there seems to be two sides of me I have never claimed to have different personalities or anything I'm not sure of for that matter. I have to live with these voices and it's hell.
And yes hell is different for other people, some people have worse stuff and are fine with it, have come to terms with it but for me, these voices are hell on Earth.

But yes, two voices, one horrible one and one that pretends to be nice. Whether they're the same or different, I can't really tell but they seem different to me.

Another problem I have that's linked to these voices is that I have a hard time telling where sounds come from, as in if it's in my head or outside, so when I'm asked how I hear the voices I say in my head because they're not real right? Well, then I get brushed off, being told it's normal and it's really just my own thoughts but it's not! Voices this bad can't be normal! The horrible one is always telling me how to hurt people and myself to the point I break down and hurt myself just so I don't hurt other people and the "nice" one is there when I'm low, telling me it's okay, nice of him right? That is until he says how hurting me or killing myself will help, how it'll make it all go away and I'm so alone I believe him, why would he lie to me?

Voices aren't the only thing I get, I get hallucinations along with them. It's like I'm in hell and they decided to give me so extra torture just because they felt like it. These aren't nice hallucinations like "oh I'm tripping so hard, haha look an 8 legged cat." No more like seeing myself killing people, animals, and myself. So not only do I have the voices telling me to do that stuff, I get to see it in action too. Lucky me!
There's one really bad one I get, I've seen worse in my hallucinations but it's not what I see, it's what i hear. I hear the agonized scream of a cat being run over, over and over again. It renders me useless, I become stiff and bite my tongue to stop the screams from coming out. I grip and dig my nails into anything I can, hair, skin, objects. Luckily I don't have long nails so i can't really do any damage to myself but I have nearly pulled hair out.

I wish I knew how to get rid of all of them, but I can't. maybe I can control them but that seems a long way yet but I hope it can happen, I don't want to live my life with these voices and images any longer, no one should have to go through it.

There's one thing lately that's really been bothering me, more than the voices, more than the hallucinations, well, it's kind of like a hallucination but I guess you can also call it a nightmare, or when it happens during the day a flashback.
I got sexually assaulted in October (I think) 2014.... It seems so long ago but the memory is still fresh in my mind, I've been assaulted before, once by an abusive partner and the second by someone who was a friend. I don't get bad memories of those that much really, sometimes I do, I still can't do to teenager section of Vicky park without freaking out (that's where the second one happened) but I can see why those happened. I got my ex into a dominant relationship with me and he just took to the part too well and the other time I allowed myself to get drunk off my arse and then do nothing when my no's and stops wasn't doing anything.
But this one was different, I still blame myself, I was in a... Certain job for a bit and he was my first client, I met him, got in the car and we drove somewhere secluded. I was freaking out, my mind was screaming at me to get out and I should of listened to it. We started fucking and then I was tied up, hands behind my back and legs apart. I started panicking a bit and asked him to untie me. He told me what eh was going to do and I knew it was going to hurt. He told me if I said no, stop or anything like that he'd put his second hand in too. I fell silent and waited for the pain. Soon as he went I screamed and begged him to stop, I've never experienced anything like it, the pain felt like I was being ripped apart and in a way i was.
He stopped once he got his fist in and then pulled out before wiping away my tears. He said because he liked me he wouldn't do both even though I broke the rules. He fucked me again after that but I just laid there, in too much pain to do anything. He untied me, I got dressed and he dropped me off near my home.
I got in, curled up on the floor and cried, I cried and I cried. By the time my parents came home I was in bed and a part of me was lost, I felt like I was nothing but a piece of meat to be used. So I carried on the job and met with other people, not caring what they did to me anymore. I was broken inside. The pain lasted for weeks after. I couldn't even pee without crying in pain it was that bad.
I went to the doctors to get checked out because it was hurting and when they find out what happened they begged em to go to the police, but I couldn't. I knew I'd be arrested if I told them I was escorting and that's how it happened. I was so scared they would confirm my fear of that it was my fault and I'm too blame. I just couldn't do it.

I know I went off a little here but now, every night I keep reliving it, in different scenarios but it's always the same. I'm surprised I haven't woken my parents up screaming. I can still hear his voice telling me not to make a sound, I still get pains down there even though there's no need for it. I'm broken because of him, a shell, and I hate myself and my body even more than I did.

It'll soon be two years since it happened, and though i can't remember the month I remember it was a Friday simply because that's when my parents go out. I go out with them now, I can't be on my own in this house, where I came back from all of it. I drove past where it happened the other day and my whole body screamed at me to get away from it, I heard him, I felt him, it all came back in an instant just from seeing the place we parked up. And it was all for £100.