Back Once More

Been over a year since I've written here, honestly I forgot all about it until someone brought it up.

I want to start writing on here again, to vent, to share, to just... Be able to get things out of my head.

Surprisingly I have a boyfriend now, he's really sweet but I'm scared, I'm scared I'll screw it up, like I always have. I want to be happy but it's like my subconcious won't allow me to be, I sabotage myself.

I feel like I have nothing to say right now, but I have so many things running through my head as well. It's almost like it's too much to write about; it's travelling through my head at 50 miles an hour and I can't make sense of it all.

I keep messing around with my meds, not taking them and then taking two at a time. I'm not sure why I do it, the not taking them is more forgetfullness than anything but I don't know why I'm then over medicating with more, all it does is fuck up my schedule and my head even more, yet I keep doing it, it's like slowly i'm bringing myself back to my destructive ways, as it is I self harmed again.

I'm disappointed in myself for that... I'd been clean for so long, since Januray 1st actually, after that horrible overdose I took, it's like it had knocked sense into me and even though I had urges, I never did it.
And then about a month ago, I started getting nightmares; flashbacks as well. All while I was asleep so I couldn't even stop it and distract myself. I had to go through it all. I woke up crying so often and I couldn't take it anymore; so I cut. Just shallow ones, more like scratches really. But that intense relief I felt, it was better than any orgasasm I could ever had. I felt so complete and relaxed and.. Happy.

The nightmares stopped after that, it was like my mind was trying to get me to hurt myself so it upped it's game and made all the nightmares, forcing me to seek some sort of relief, and it worked. I'm so disappointed in myself, because it's all I've wanted to do since; I've wanted to self harm again, I've wanted  to overdose again.
I can't, I know I can't but I want to.
Because part of me knows, that if I overdose again, it might be the last I'll ever have to do.
It could kill me.

With my last overdose on December 31st 2016, I took my anti physcotics. About 6 of them, that was all I needed. I felt so out of it, I could barely concerntrate on what the paramedic was saying.
I knew he was worried, he didn't want to leave me an my parents couldn't drive me up to the hospital because they'd been smoking for my mum's pain.
He ended up taking me in his own car and sat with me until my parents came up in a taxi.
He was scared, and it made me scared because he knew something.
Thats when he told me, why he was so scared for me.

A woman a couple weeks ago had taken 10 of the same pills, same dosage and died of organ failure. And from how I was acting I could very well die.

I hurt, all over, I could feel my own organs struggling to cope, I knew they were weak from the overdoses I had taken before; this was not my first rodeo.
But I don't know why I became so scared, dying was the plan in the first place. Maybe it's because it would of been a painful death, or I worried for my family and my niece and nephew, but I was scared; but I didn't want to survive either. I was hoping that 6 would be enough to stop my heart and kill me.

I still wish it did even now.

It's coming closer and closer, the day I took them; and it's all I can think about lately. About how I should save up more this time, take them with the other hundred painkillers I have stashed away in my room.

I want to stop feeling like this, I can't even remember the little girl who was always talking and had a smile on her face. She's dead, and now I'm left with a husk of a human being, who feels weird when she's happy, and hates to smile, and hates to feel, and hates to live.

I should be happy, I have a good life. Loving family, a boyfriend who actually cares about me; but then I realise... That's all I have, I have no career, no future, no friends, no life, nothing.
I sit at the computer and drink energy drinks and then go to bed and sleep for hours on end to wake up and go sit on the computer and drink energy drinks.
What kind of life is that?

I want to go back to college, I want to study. I want all of that, I want a future but I can't see it right now and I don't know if I ever will.



They say 9 out of 10 people suffer with depression at one point in their life, why couldn't I of been number 10? Why couldn't I of had a normal life and not be bullied by kids younger than me in school.
Why did I have to feel so horrible about myself I just carried on eating because apparently I was fat anyway even though size 12 is not fat. I've doubled that now.
I sit here, a size 24 with too many stretch marks and scars of count, with a body that makes me physically sick to see in a mirror.
I'm on pills that make me shit myself to help me lose weight since the gym just hurt my joints thanks to my disability that will one day soon put me in a wheelchair and the dietican gave up on me because I don't even eat, I just starve myself and then binge, and then purge. It's a cycle I'm trying to break but I can't see the end of the road, nor the light at the end of this tunnel.

I jsut don't know what to do anymore...