lyrieux-blog

[lyrieux-blog]

13/01/2019

It has been a while. Nothing much has happened over New Year and Christmas. Anxiety levels were up and down and all that jazz. I had my anxiety medication upped by 100mg a few days ago and I have been really woozy and spaced out ever since. But that is to be expected in all honesty, going up so much in one go but believe me, it was overdue. Mom has been very stressful to be around and in truth this big escapade currently happening began the night before last. Friday night; she accidentally took too much of her oral morphine in which is used to control her stomach pain; so we called for advice and ended up having Paramedics around. They assessed her and it turned out what we presumed she had taken was around the toxic dosage level so we had to go into the A&E department to get her checked out properly, bloods taken and all that jazz. We were there for 12 hours, overnight, mostly spent waiting for doctors. In the end, she was fine and so I spent silly money at almost 8am in the morning to get us home again. Then we slept. Lots. This morning, however, she has been very unapproachable; snappy, uncomfortable to be around, a scowl on her face. When heading off for a nap she told me to do and my sister some tea when we were hungry - which was totally fine - but neither of us were hungry while she was asleep and thus when she came up, she wanted to know why I had not fed my sister. It basically caused a huge row and my mom really snapped and was nasty toward my sister, who then came to me for a hug and some comfort, naturally. Mom didn’t take that well, either, to be honest. She loudly accused me of taking my sister from her, of plotting to take her away, of planning it all along. Which is massively untrue, my sister came for a hug, for crying out loud. Anyway; my sister went back in her room and mom came into my room; she was nothing short of nasty, accusing me of being sneaky, she said she wasn’t taking part in any trips we have [Comic con soon-] because she wouldn’t be here [threatening suicide]. Anyway; she went down to her room and I had a panic attack [Amazing considering my medication is supposed to prevent my brain doing that-]. I had to ask for advice from my Nan and my other half as to what to do and in the end I had to brave it to do into Moms room and take her medication out of there just in case. I mean - I didn’t want to take the chance; and I’ve got to hide the key from the lock box so she doesn’t get anything out of there either. So I’m going to be a nervous wreck all night, now; listening out and expecting more issues and drama. Mom has been texting my sister, however; apologising and all of that jazz; but ignoring me utterly. I’ve never done anything to hurt her, or put her against me, but she absolutely hates my person most of the time and aims to make my life as miserable as it can be. I don’t know how much of it is her mental illness and how much of it is utterly intended. It;s making my own issues a lot worse.            

[lyrieux-blog]

02/10/2018

It has been a while since I wrote on here; I should really get into the habit of doing it at least twice a week or something of that sort; perhaps it would help organise the mass of twisted confusion that is my consciousness. I’ve been slacking in everything lately, to be honest. I felt a little unwell for a few days last week so I took it easy; now I have full blown flu and it has sapped what precious little drive and motivation I have to continue doing the day-to-day things I need to. I also haven’t practised piano in two weeks and I have a lesson later on today; so its going to be painfully obvious that I haven;’t done anything. So once again I have let my piano tutor down. I also have to make an entire costume in a month because my stupid head has left it, pretty much to the last minute. It’s comic con next month.  Anyway;  I was in the bath yesterday afternoon; not long after my sister had gotten home from college. I could vaguely hear them chatting away and then suddenly their voices went quieter and so I stopped moving so the water would not create any noise and strained to listen - because I know my sister can get overpowering for mom at times and I thought perhaps that was happening. I could only make out a few words but they were definitely talking about me. Definitely. So I just sat there, in the bath, really angry. I woke up this morning so massively down that I can barely bring myself to do anything. I’m just quietly staring off into space, not doing anything. All I want to do is sleep. Or toss myself under a bus.  I’ve also decided that I’m only going to be eating one meal a day because I’m fat.  

[lyrieux-blog]

16/09/2018

I’m going to admit it - I’m not coping well. In fact, I feel so overwhelmed by everything that I barely know what to do with myself. Confliction runs endlessly through my consciousness and I’m struggling. I’m not sleeping very well, despite spending longer in bed; I’m usually too emotionally, mentally and physically exhausted by 8pm that I end up going to bed at half past... and I’ll sleep for a few hours, mediocre quality, then lay awake during the early hours; and then I struggle to convince myself to get up. Usually, I would be up and around by 9am, if not a little earlier but the past few days I have barely been able to drag myself out before 11am. I just... can’t seem to get myself going. I have been doing so much to help around the house; in fact I have been doing everything because mom simply cant; washing, hoovering, cooking, cleaning, tending to the cats. It doesn’t sound like much but it is a hell of a lot to do on your own. That and I need to check up and look after my Nan; she fell out of bed recently and hurt her leg so she’s finding it hard to get around; so I will do shop runs for her and help her around her house so that everything there doesn’t fall into ruin, so to speak. So I’m caring for two households. Among all of that I have to try and find the time to practice piano because otherwise Linda is just going to become agitated with my lack of progress... And I want to learn - but finding the motivation as well as the time is growing harder and harder as the weight of everything feels worse upon my shoulders. And of course, among all of this madness, I have my two sessions at the Mental Health place; one on a Monday, and one on a Thursday. Sure, they are only an hour each but the place is quite a walk from home and just getting there and back (be it walking or on the bus) is utterly exhausting; I have to fit it in around everything else; or more, I have to fit everything else around it, somehow. Don’t get me wrong, the things I learn in those sessions are endlessly helpful - at least the ones I manage to remember are - and things that are spoken about feel mildly better... But a common subject is finding time to look after myself, to sit and process things, to focus on my own person and what matters to me. Where am I supposed to find this time? If I drop even some of the things I do in order to keep the household functional and everyone well, everything will fall apart. I can’t just stop everything that I am doing; that is plain fact. I am needed; I need to do it. I have to help my mom; she is in such massive pain and its forcing her into a terrible depression; her condition isn’t something that allows her to do everything she wants or needs, so I have to do those things as well as take care of her; wash her hair, things of that sort, alongside the household chores. My sister has college three days a week and has this disposition where she will only do things that benefit her; she’s a terribly selfish person... and thus won’t help. When I was struggling to do the cooking and feed all the cats yesterday, she came in, saw me struggling and then went for a bubble bath because she said she was stressed; she hadn’t done anything all day; no help, nothing. Even when I asked; she took so long that I ended up doing it myself. And to be perfectly honest, my uncle is useless; he comes over for his medication and that is about it. We have to keep his medication and give him just enough for two days because he has taken an overdose in the past; so I have been dealing with that, too. And mom was near enough buckled over on the floor yesterday, saying how she needed to take a dinner up to nan; and he just nodded and left; knowing full well that I was so overwhelmed with everything and mom couldn’t physically do much at all. He just couldn’t be bothered to help. So what am I supposed to do? Drop everything, focus on myself and watch everything crash and burn around me? I can’t do that. At the moment the stress of trying to find a balance between everything is impossible; and the utter pressure to do it is intense. Every session it is mentioned; you need to find more time to look after yourself; where is this time coming from? How am I supposed to do that? I’m exhausted, I’m tired, I’m so painfully depressed. I need to try and book an appointment with my doctor to talk about medication and how its not doing what it’s supposed to; but again, where do I find the time? I’m so down and overwhelmed that my mind has been wandering to some abysmal places, onto some terribly dark topics and I can’t stop it. Filtering thoughts? Things like that? Endlessly difficult. My head has been wandering toward my past experience with Anorexia; which is making a sleek, quiet comeback; I fear; because of the way mom has been lately. She has barely been eating and I have been painfully aware of it; so I fuss over food, I become hyper-aware of everything to do with it... It’s frightening me because now I know I’m not eating as much, if much at all every day and I’m paranoid about it. I’ve been having self harm urges again; very endlessly strong ones that are difficult to swerve away from. It’s getting harder. Then I thought, oh, it would be easier to throw myself in front of a bus or a car because it would be easier to explain than cuts and bruises. A horrible thought... but one that I cannot rid from my mind. I’m feeling like I just want to disappear. I want to walk out of the house, head in a vague direction, disassociate and then... just see what happens. If I jump off a bridge or something, then so be it.... I just want to disappear even just for a while. I’ve had enough; everything is so difficult to keep up with... especially on my own.  I tried to reach out to my partner, Mike, this morning about how I was feeling so down and terrible; but he’s never been very good with that kind of over-emotional thing... so he just didn’t reply; an then an hour later he sent me a supposedly funny video and was saying that he should be over to visit next week. Reaching out is hard... but I feel like my calls for help are going unheard, unnoticed.  I just..., can’t cope.                     

[lyrieux-blog]

02/09/2018

I don’t write on here very often, and I’m rather conscious of that - but today I simply felt the need to spill out my head into this place for no reason other than to try and focus my mind for a little while. I’ve started going to therapy twice a week and in truth I was skeptical to begin with - I don’t often get on with new people and in fact it takes me a long time to trust someone - but the bits of work I have been doing with the new lady have been... very helpful. Of course, not everything is going to go straight in or anything like that but... I feel slightly more accomplished. Nothing is going to be achieved overnight and it is going to take a very long time to get myself better...  but I feel like I’m getting somewhere.  I’ve been stressing because I don’t seem to be able to settle into my piano practices, my mom is still in pain and ill and it’s taking all of my energy to keep up with appointments of my own, of hers, dealing with my sisters college applications and forms, her bursary stuff, her ID stuff, dealing with my nan and her problems, having to jumble my time everywhere just to fit it all in... I’m tired. My head barely wants to pull anything together...  I don’t know.

[lyrieux-blog]

23/07/55

In truth it has been quite the wild week; so much has been happening all at once that it’s been a struggle to keep up not only physically but mentally as well. Acceptance has weighed heavily on my mind since speaking with Fran last Monday – and the night after the appointment I simply lay on my bed for a few hours, quietly, just staring up toward the ceiling, overwhelmed with anxiety, simply thinking about it and not doing anything else. It was something that was occurring, something I just had to let run its course for a time. It was while thinking about it that I got onto the subject of why it might have been occurring and I was not lying when I said that nothing in my environment had changed, none of my routines had changed, nothing had happened to trigger such an intense anxiety of which indeed, lasted a number of days after such appointment. And then it clicked! A few days prior, at my doctor’s appointment, my contraceptive pill got changed. (I don’t entirely know why.) I was told that it was exactly the same, just under a different name and so I presumed that the one I took before had been discontinued. Regardless, I took it as I would normally and that is when my severe anxiety started. It didn’t make any sense; I was told they were exactly the same, just under a different name, but this was largely untrue. I did some research; and while the active ingredient is indeed the same, that of which makes up the rest of the pill couldn’t be any different. Something in those ingredients was triggering my anxiety; I was certain of it. And upon talking to a close friend of mine she confirmed that it was more than likely polyethylene glycol, something of which was banned for use in medication in the USA because of its high risk of side effects. So, mom made me an appointment to talk to the doctor, over the phone, about it and the possibility of switching back to my old pill; I was sick of the crippling anxiety, the horrible stomach pains, the dizziness, the uneasiness. The first doctor mom spoke to (since I could barely do anything) basically put it down to me being crazy. I’m not joking; he said I was hallucinating my symptoms, that he could see I have mental health issues and that I was just looking for something to blame them on. Obviously, this set off my paranoia and I could barely be spoken to, I was inconsolable. She then called again, made an appointment to see a doctor because by this point she was concerned that I was in crisis. The doctor I saw listened less than the first but was in the least willing to give me three months’ worth of my old pill “just to see”. And, obviously, if nothing changed then to go and see my normal doctor. Within two days, the anxiety was gone, and I was feeling far better. But instead of being relieved, I’m wondering if it was actually the medication, or if it was just my head disliking the change. I’ve not been bothered about the change of medication before – so I’m inclined to believe that I was right! But at the same time, I’m now doubting everything I think; what if I am more messed up in the head than I realise. I probably am. Regardless – I spoke to my mom about the possibility of having some kind of Support worker; mentioned by Fran; and she was quite openly happy about the idea… and so am I. Not only would it help me – but it would also take pressure off of the rest of the family; it’s not fair for them to keep having to look after me and if that pressure could be lifted, even just a little bit, would probably help relationships at home, too.    

Speaking of mom – she has been rather ill for the past few days and at one point we thought she may have Viral Meningitis; and almost called an ambulance; but she improved. She hasn’t been able to do anything; terrible headaches, sore throat, vomiting. So I’ve been having to do everything around the house and in honesty, it has been nothing short of exhausting. I’m beyond tired, I haven’t been sleeping well. You know – it’s quite horrible being me at the moment; my head is just a hostile place.  I’ve noticed that I’ve been more paranoid. I walked to the shop (literally just up the road) yesterday with my sister in tow and I was intensely conscious of everyone around me; there was one fellow in the shop, perfectly innocent, of whom I was convened was going to follow me home and potentially hurt me. And that is becoming more of a regular occurrence; I had a little bit of paranoia anyway, but it’s getting more intrusive now; even at home with those I love. Yesterday, my Nan was over helping to cook something to eat and I was certain she was watching everything I was doing because she didn’t trust me to look after mom. She was. I was also invited out with Mike to one of his friends birthday celebrations and immediately did I panic because I do not like social situations like that. They make me feel on the spot, like everyone is watching me, like I’m going to make an absolute fool of myself. I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of people I don’t know! So I said to Mike that I probably wouldn’t go because I would be quite uncomfortable; and he said jokingly, that I am always uncomfortable. And that hurt! I’m so oversensitive to things like that; criticism and things of the sort; but I know he didn’t mean it in a hurtful way. I have also been thinking about how dependant I am on my mom; at first I thought it was just because it’s nice to have support and things through everything I do but then I came to realise, just the other day, how really, really dependant I am. I can’t function without help; I can’t make decisions on my own most of the time, I am petrified of being left to fend for myself if anything happened to mom and indeed, perhaps that is why my anxiety the last few days has been so high because mom has been ill and unable to do anything. I’m really passive as a person and I find it difficult to made decisions and things of that kind… Without mom basically guiding me, I really don’t think I would function at all. It’s been a nightmare the past few days, I’ve been really struggling to just… do things. If it wasn’t for my sister sort of… pointing things out that needed to be done… I don’t know. It’s been playing on my mind a hell of a lot and it’s just been bringing up feelings of being useless and inferior.

And I had this weird experience this morning; I was lay in bed, willing myself to get up when I heard the TV playing in the living room; my bedroom is right off from the living room so it was really easy to hear. It was the weather forecast saying how it was going to be hot and that there wasn’t much chance of rain, that the hot weather was going to continue; I heard all of it and it actually annoyed me that someone would have the TV loud enough, that early in the morning, for me to hear. So I got up in a bit of a huff, pulled my door open and the Tv wasn’t even on. Nobody else was awake yet. I felt so confused and uncomfortable and for a few moments, I just stared at the black tv screen, feeling like a thousand eyes were locked upon me, judging me. I’ve not felt that horrible since I looked in the mirror and didn’t recognise myself. I’m also massively stressed at the moment because I have so very much going on this week; I have Rowan house and a doctors appointment today; tomorrow I have my piano lesson and I have done no practice at all because I’ve been distracted by other things and have lacked the motivation but at the same time I’m petrified of being awful and not having progressed at all; Wednesday would have been my oldest cat’s birthday had she still been here. Thursday is the day I am dreading the most; I have my PIP (Personal Independence Payment) tribunal that I have to go to. I remember going through all the forms with mom about how much help I need to stay safe and all of that jazz; and they didn’t consider any of it. The woman that came to the house to assess me deemed me perfectly able to do everything by myself just because I gave the cat a fuss while she was here. Even though I couldn’t look at her, sit near her, talk to her properly; I was riddled with anxiety and near vomiting. They demand evidence but besides the bits we have already given them, I don’t have anything more; mom says it’s all going to go fine and not to worry and if I have a bit of a “spazz” on the day then that would help to prove how I am. But I am losing sleep over thinking about it; it’s driving me insane. And if we don’t get it? Then the past 18 months of struggle to try will be completely in vain and all of that stress and discomfort and worry and fear would have just been for nothing. I’m scared; it’s a huge worry for me. I can’t even be left in the kitchen on my own to cook something in the microwave because I often disassociate and then accidentally drop something hot, or burn myself, or something of the kind.  

I don’t know – I’m just tired. I’m fed up. I’ve had enough; my head won’t shut off, it won’t stop tossing a thousand thoughts at me all at once and overwhelming me. Why do I look into everything too much? It’s automatic, I can’t help it. And when asked questions – even as simple as “how are you?” I freeze; I can’t think, I find it hard to come up with an answer. Blank. What if I say something wrong? What if I say something completely irrelevant? I don’t know.

[lyrieux-blog]

16/07/2018

I’ve not much time before I have to leave for my appointment at Rowan house - but I felt the need to document everything going through my head this morning, especially since my trek to my appointment is actually going to be on my own this morning. Why? Mom truly is not well; she’s in a lot of pain, she can barely keep her eyes open because she scarcely slept and she just doesn’t have the energy. She offered to ask my uncle to come with me but honestly, that’s a fruitless idea; he won’t be awake until past 1pm and I’m just not comfortable around him. I don’t know what it is - he hasn’t done anything in particular - he just seems very weird at the moment. Besides; he always huffs and puffs and whines about having to walk me anywhere so it only makes me feel even more of a burden. I woke with the most horrendous anxiety again: I’m beginning to think I’ve fallen into the routine I had years back when I was really unwell in my head; constantly, cripplingly depressed, barely wanting to get out of bed; always met with anxiety that near enough killed me every morning, of which would last all day, every day. My medication isn’t even taking the edge off any longer. I’m just left at it’s mercy and no matter what I attempt to fight it with, it always wins. I have this vulgar stomach ache which has not left since my huge panic attack last week; and this constant discomfort generally inside my person is ludicrous. I’m barely able to eat because of it; I have absolutely no appetite and when I smell my sister or mom cooking something, it legitimately makes me want to gag and vomit - my stomach just can’t take it. I just want to sleep - because when I sleep there are no arguments in the house, there is no pressure to pretend I’m alright, there isn’t any utterly crippling anxiety, there isn’t any nasty thoughts. In truth, I am dreading walking to Rowan house on my own - not just because of the anxiety I get, at the moment, just thinking about going outside but also because of the distance it is and the fact that when I am stressed, I disassociate and don’t exactly think. I’m well known for crossing roads without so much as looking and usually the potential that I could get accidentally hit by something would concern and frighten me but lately - the complete opposite. I would be glad to be hit by something because I’m struggling to cope. My head doesn’t feel like it is mine at all; I’m being ruled by invasive thoughts, I cant battle any of it away. Anxiety is just killing me, my depressive phase is making me scarcely functional; I get agitated and angry in the drop of a hat if someone wants to talk to me or interact - I just want to be isolated. I barely know what to do with myself. I can’t think straight. I just want this suffering to end and at the moment... I’m not entirely sure that I care how. I’m living my life in a constant state of distress and there is only so much I can take  before I snap. I was so very close to hurting myself last night - the only reason I didn’t was that I was so cripplingly tired that I just failed to have the energy to.  I’m not coping! I’m not! I cant cope with these levels of anxiety, I’m sick to death of being mentally broken, I’m having to battle away suicidal thoughts; they are so intrusive. I’m tired. I’m exhausted. I’m paranoid! I’m convinced everyone is watching me, judging me; I’m convinced mom is taking about me behind my back, to nan; turning her against me just like she tried to do with everyone looking at Phil.  I’m not stable. I am not stable.  None of my medication is doing anything useful! And no matter how many times I mention it, nothing gets done! I know its not going to solve everything but it took the edge off once upon a time but my anti-depressant isn’t doing anything because I am chronically depressed and my anti-anxiety medication might as well be made of sugar! I can’t cope with it. Why is nothing helping? Why am I stuck in this circle? Why does nothing ever go right? Why is everything spiralling down again? Am I meant to fail? Am I supposed to just go with it? I can’t do anything except go with it at the moment. I can’t fight it. It’s all too strong.        

[lyrieux-blog]

14/07/2018

I’m trying to focus my thoughts so I can actually write something coherent and somewhat in a legible chronological order. I can’t remember much of the past few weeks to be honest with you. It has all been a blur - I’ve been much more down than usual; my anxiety has been through the roof, my paranoia has been through the roof, my head has been obsessed with the thought of dying, I haven’t been sleeping, for a few days I was convinced I had leukaemia; I thought all my hair was falling out and spent three hours gently brushing my hair... Anyway; I’m cripplingly down; and the other day we (me, my sister and my partner) were due to take my nan to the fruit farm! I had been looking forward to it for weeks; but I woke up that morning just feeling so weird and the next thing I know anxiety starts to niggle at the back of my mind - I got that weird weighted feeling on my chest. I ignored it, took my tablets a little bit early thinking that they might ease it off and I tried to carry on with my morning; by the time I got in the car to go and pick my nan up I was in full panic mode and we had to pull back home for me. I sat on the edge of my moms bed (because she wanted to go back to sleep when we left) and I was nothing short of frantic; I couldn’t sit still, I was uncomfortable, I could barely breathe; so after a few moments I went to the bathroom and was in there almost half an hour; vomiting, diarrhoea, headache, dizziness; I honestly thought I was going to pass out. My partner came in then and asked if I was alright and I asked him to take my nan and sister without me; but about ten minutes later I convinced myself to go; the whole way there I felt horrendously sick and uncomfortable, the panic in my head and chest utterly unrivalled. I could barely breathe, I wanted to vomit; I tried to ignore it the entire time I walked around the farm; petting piglets, picking fruit; listening to my nan tell us about times she used to pea-pick when she was younger; working on a farm for much of her life alongside her mom. I didn’t relax the whole time but I got damn good at hiding it (even writing about it is giving me anxiety). When we were finished, I felt a little better; but we had to go grocery shopping for nan and while in the store, I had yet another massive wave of discomfort and nausea and absolute panic; but once again I hid it so nobody would fuss or worry or anything because that only makes it worse. And all the questions that come of it - I can’t cope with those. And this massive panic attack has thrown me off terribly; I can barely get myself up in the mornings; the anxiety is stronger than usual and I’m fiercely worried that I won’t be able to make it to my tattoo appointment on the 1st of August because of randomly panicking; and this tattoo means a hell of a lot to me; and the £40 deposit mom put down would be lost if I didn’t go - and she just wouldn’t let me forget that; she’s obsessed with money after all.  I just don’t know what to do, what to think; I’m getting stressed over things I shouldn’t be getting stressed about. Like making icons for commissions. Like practising my piano so I don’t disappoint my teacher. Like making my costume for November comic con because I don’t have one otherwise because I’m too fat for all my other ones.   I just want to sleep and forget everything and be left alone. I’m constantly battling the urge to hurt myself; my neighbours daughter took an overdose the other day and it has been playing on my mind.  Physical pain is better than emotional or mental pain because it can be seen and so people understand it; but not only that, it draws your mind away from what’s going on in your head. At least; that is how it helps me. I haven’t cut in a while now but oh I want to; I’ve been biting myself just enough to feel the pinch, scratching my arms when I’m nervous; I’ve noticed that when I am nervous I will start pulling at my eyebrows or my eyelashes.  I’m also not eating much since I had that huge attack; I just can’t face it. food makes me nauseous, but not only that; I’m just not hungry; I feel horrendous.   

[lyrieux-blog]

29/06/2018

With honesty - it has been quite the ludicrously busy, hectic, uncomfortable few days. Tuesday was always going to be a maddening adventure - there was little other way to glance at it. It was to be far from my comfort zone and in truth it went far beyond that. I mentally prepared myself as best as I could; my piano lesson that morning went exceedingly well so I was put on quite the high to start motions off with. This helped. Greatly. Once home, I began preparing myself for the afternoon and evening ahead; all I had to do was to get on the train, get into Birmingham, find the venue and drop my sister off to meet her friend. Repeatedly, I told myself that having done that, I would be able to have a nice meal somewhere with MIke; my treat, and I was so looking forward to that. The walk up to the train station was utterly exhausting (I have sunburn on my shoulders from it) and it took us far longer than it would have usually because the heat was simply too much; it acted as a distraction, in the least. Once there, I relaxed for a time; I’d taken a small plush from my collection of them (little Japanese cats-Nemuneko) and put it into my pocket since soft things calm me greatly. It was my small weapon against anxiety. When the train arrived there was but only two carriages and quite a mass of people wanting to get on; thankfully we were able to get a seat, the windows were all open and it as bright and airy inside, unlike some of the trains I have been on in the past. This was a good start. As we stopped at each station upon the way, however, more and more people got on - they were queuing down the isles and this made it all feel very claustrophobic.Panic set in within twenty minutes of the journey, I had to force myself to focus upon the view out of the window, my headphones in my ears, the little plush in my pocket. It seemed to take forever to get to New Street station; and once there the crush of people moving around was astounding. It was rush hour, commuters were trying to get home and the entirety of Grand Central was packed. You could scarcely move. Panic was nibbling away at me, I felt sick, dizzy but I couldn’t let any of it show. I didn’t want my sister to worry; she had been looking forward to meeting her friend and going to this gig since they booked it several months back. Finally outside, we began walking toward the venue, following Google Maps on my phone so we would not get lost as neither of us had been to the venue before. It was quite far out of the main town and there was no denying that I felt very uncomfortable; even more so while there as it was under an old bridge or something - there were a lot of people hanging around; the kind of people i generally enjoy being around but I was already hideously uncomfortable. But I had finally made it, right? My sisters friend was a little late, and Mike was running late from work so I would have to wait half an hour or so on my own. Milly and her friend went off to queue in the line and I was left waiting for Mike to arrive; a fellow pulled up in a car, asked me where he could buy some weed. That set my anxiety on overdrive. The next thing I know, however, was my sister and her friend were coming back from the line. Turned out they wouldn’t let them in; ticketmaster had showed the gig to be 13+, and my sister is 15, her friend just having turned 16, so he could have acted as chaperone; but the security fellow did not believe their ages and thus, without ID, would not let them in. The only way to do it was to purchase a ticket myself and take them in as their chaperone. Right, not hard, huh? All went fine - I got them in - at least it was cool in there and my sister and her friend were overjoyed; I said to them that I would wait for the security guard to move so I could disappear out and meet Mike... but the security never moved... And I had to stay with them. So Mike came into the gig and we both stayed; he very much enjoyed it but I spend four hours in meltdown mode. Having a gig, with a great many people in a small venue, sprung upon me out of nowhere was far beyond what I had even attempted to prepare myself for. It was nothing short of horrendous. On the way home we picked up some food and almost as soon as we got home and had eaten, I fell asleep. So much for my romantic evening with Mike, ha- The day after, I spent most of it cleaning and tidying up. Why? I do that when I feel extremely anxious and uncomfortable; it had not eased off from the night before. Thursday came around and I received quite the nice surprise in the post; a rather rare figure of my favorite gaming character arrived through the post with some American Candy; a surprise gift from my friend Kat, in the US. I was utterly overjoyed! The figure in question could not be purchased in the UK and import costs would have been ludicrous if I had bought it from overseas.  Then, not twenty minutes after that arrived, DPD showed up with a very heavy, very big parcel. My weighted blanket. It was as if I was getting a mass of rewards for somehow getting through Tuesday night; and my gosh, is the blanket amazing. Mom joked with me, spread it over me to see what it was like and within five minutes I had fallen asleep! I’ve just woken from the best night sleep I have had in a very long time and I strongly believe it is down to the weighted blanket. Perhaps it was a good investment after all! So that is pretty much the catch-up from the last few days. I’m still very much having issues battling my mind, however, especially with my body image and thoughts about myself. Resisting hurting myself is somewhat easier than it was but... it is still there bothering me in the back of my mind. And my weight is getting to me - I logically know that I am a healthy weight; yes, I have put some on recently and my doctor put that down to my medication since my eating habits have not changed.  Two months ago I was perfectly fine - then I started taking that damned Quetiapine and everything went downhill. Now barely any of my clothes fit and I utterly detest it. I’ve been obscenely conscious of everything I have been eating - purposely eating a little less, at a time. It’s driving me insane.                  

[lyrieux-blog]

26/06/2018

It has been a while, that’s for sure; things have been as unpredictable and roller-coaster-esque as per usual; nothing in any aspect has really changed. I went to my Psychology session yesterday - the atmosphere at home that morning was nothing short of ludicrous; mom was in a terrible mood, my sister was in a terrible mood, I had [admittedly] woken in an atrocious mood. Of course, we simply bounce off one another when in such a state - everyone is so intertwined that it can’t be helped. Anyway - my session went really well: in all honesty, I think it was the first one I was able to fully engage within because of the sheer anger I was feeling that morning toward everything. I felt so positive when I left that room, like... there was some semblance of hope that perhaps one day I would be able to control everything to a degree and live a normal [whatever that is-] life. But of course, Mom was still in a terribly foul mood when I met her in the waiting room; but it passed and actually, we had quite a nice morning looking around the shops in the Link and then went on to the retail park. Of course, there were a few spats but - overall... I thoroughly enjoyed myself! That evening, Nan came around; we all had a really good laugh, ordered some Chinese food. You know - it was lovely.  This morning, however, was a completely different story. I woke up, video-called with mom because the kittens were being adorable - everything seemed fine. I got up and she was in the most foul mood - before long, she was saying how much of a burden I am with having to be “escorted” everywhere; since it’s my piano lesson today and we walk there. I offered to go on my own; it’s not too far, I could probably manage; but she bluntly refused. So we contemplated asking my uncle to take me but... well, he can barely go and see his own mom much less walk me up the road. Regardless, a rather large argument splashed out between mom and my sister [who is now going to be walking me to my lesson- even though I insisted otherwise] which ended in Mom having yet another mental fit. She expressed how she was fed up with everything, how every day was the same, how she was under too much pressure to do things; I don’t understand it? She does nothing to help herself; she doesn’t make efforts to break that routine. Me and Milly help as much as we can around the home so she can’t use that one against us at the moment. I honestly don’t know what to do, to be honest. I feel like, once again, it falls to me to fix everything, pull everyone back together when actually... this kind of atmosphere and whatever is breaking me, too. Since Sunday my suicidal thoughts have returned and they are worrying me because they are... intrusive. I don’t want to think those things, but I can’t help it - they just spring to mind and linger... and that’s petrifying considering just how much I’ve got to do today. Travelling on the train to Birmingham is going to be a huge thing, anyway - but with my mind the way it is it’s... going to be twice as hard, there’s no denying it. And the thoughts of self harm... my gosh, they are strong. What I wouldn’t do to pick up a razor blade. The only thing that is stopping me, at the moment, is the thought of my partner seeing any cuts I make - and that makes my stomach churn. But my head, that side of my head... oh it is clever. When I am at my weakest does it spring forward and offer unhelpful suggestions. If not cutting, why not bruises? So I caught myself looking up, on the internet, how to bruise one’s self properly, intensely. I can’t believe how far back I’ve fallen in just a few days. I’d begun to climb back up, to get a hold of myself but it seems like I’ve just gone entirely backwards. And it’s atrocious because that side of my head wants to slink back down into that terribly dark abyss.  It wan’ts to be smothered in cuts that burn and hurt when you try and sleep, it wants to be in that place where you struggle to get out of bed, go out, do anything. It wants to be entirely isolated and buried in one’s own crippling darkness. Fighting that is becoming harder. Even all of the positivity in the world, all of the exercises, all of the small things one can use to help situations... can’t stop things if you don’t want them to stop. Having my head so split in two is... making it impossible. I’m struggling; I can admit that here in the comforts of writing, where I know few will see it unless I want them to - but I can’t admit it aloud. Not without gaining a great deal of backlash.  It’s really terrible, in truth, when you are afraid to look at your phone in fear of nasty messages from your own family, wearing you down, eating you alive. When you don’t want to step out into the living room because of whom might already be in there, scared that there may be more conflict. Even now, there is a Tab open in my browser regarding self-harm techniques. A bruise is far easier to explain than a purposeful cut. What if I smack my head against something really hard? I’m trying to keep my thoughts to things like that because I know that the back of my mind is considering more dire things like tossing myself in front of a train; and I’m heading to a train station later on today. And my thoughts upon my body image are getting worse; I hate, no... I despise the way I look. I’ve put weight on since taking medication for my mental health and while the rational side of my consciousness understands that, to some degree, it is needed... I hate it. Citalopram doesn’t work. It never has but attempting to come off it put me into a bit of a psychotic episode; which was... weird. And the Pregabalin used to work wonderfully but now... not so much and I am so wary of going up in dose because of the side effects; they are beginning to outweigh the benefits and when it gets to that point... you have to rethink things. I am sick of being constantly bloated and feeling horrendous, I’m sick of the headaches, I’m sick of the weight gain. I haven’t even changed the way I eat. The other week - a week ago or something, I was looking up anorexia - not to educate myself on what it is but to find diets based on such a thing. I’m a mess, more of a mess than I let on. My head is a state and yet outwardly I act as if I am fine. Why? Because it stops the bigger picture from crumbling, too. I’m petrified Mike would leave me if I gave in to it all but oh... it’s getting to the point where I don’t think I’m going to be able to help it. I’ve just got to get my head together for my Piano lesson and then... try and ready myself up for the damned train and the lingering around Birmingham until Mike meets me. Lets hope I make it, huh? I’ve got to hold myself together somehow. For whatever reason.              

[lyrieux-blog]

12/05/2018

It is days like these that I wonder what I did in a previous life, so to speak, to deserve this kind of treatment – to deserve being messed up in the head, to deserve living in such a complicated environment. They say that others with mental health issues are the most understanding  and yes, I agree  - but their own issues so often make others worse. It becomes a toxic twisting of utter madness. Of one person setting another’s negative issues off. Today has absolutely been one of those days.

I’m... really struggling today. I was fine all morning, and then my mother decided to kick off, have an argument over a tiny little thing.

Basically, we have some blinds that need to be put up for sale, we have some clothing that needs to be dropped off at a charity shop, and we have a blind and mirror that need to be put up. None have managed to be done as of yet because a) we havent gotten around to it. b) We dont have any transport until my partner is over and his car is broken and in the garage. c) We dont own a drill and don’t know anyone who can put them up safely.

So about an hour ago, my mother decided to announce how fed up she was with me, how I just sit on my ass and do nothing (I’ve been trying to make some icons for a commission I have in order to get mom’s bank account out of the red), how she had gotten up wanting to get things done and it was my fault that nothing was done.

The thing is - nothing was stopping her from putting the blinds up for sale. She knows how to do it! If she wanted some help and I was busy then she could have asked my sister. I know she’s revising for her very closely upcoming exams, but she could have been an option of I was busy. The thing is - it would have been easy for her to do herself.

But she refused to, because she couldn’t be bothered to do it - so she blames everyone else around her.

Now mom has always been much the same and over the years it has really been wearing heavily on my mental health. And today... feels like it is very close to the final straw. She’s blaming me for her feeling low, shes accusing me of affecting my sister because of my mental illness (me and my sister are totally fine, btw), she’s blowing everything out of proportion to make me feel like I am wrong, to change my head to feel like I am indebted to her.

Heavy gaslighting. I am so close to giving up. There have been fleeting thought that are scaring me, in truth. There was one, it just jumped into the very forefront of my mind. Take all of your tablets. I would think about that rarely, but this was such a strong thought, that came from nowhere, that was so damn strong that I almost listened to it.

Now, I’m being consumed by thoughts of self harm... I want nothing more than to hurt myself - why? It’s such a strong impulse. Maybe it’s because of wanting to punish myself, maybe it’s because I need some kind of distraction from my mind going into overdrive... I don’t know. But the thoughts are there and they’re getting stronger and stronger and it’s horrible.

Mom is texting me, now. She’s getting more and more fierce - I’m nervous to be awake in case she walks in and begins arguing or being accusational once more.

And then - then comes the guilt trip. Things like “I’m sorry, I love you, I just can’t do it any more. I don’t mean what I say-” Which always comes after she makes me feel as if my consumption of oxygen upon the earth is too damn much.

Now, she has gone to bed and I don’t doubt that she will stay there until tomorrow. So now I have to cook food for myself and my sister - though she tends to do her own - so I’m unlikely to eat... because I often have to be prompted to do so - so I will forget or something. I don’t know. Since taking all these medications for my head I have put on weight, so I feel like a fat fuck right now and I’ve been skipping meals or just drinking tea to get rid of my hunger.

Why can’t all of this just stop? Why can’t we just be a normal sodding family?

I know that all of my issues stem from my mothers behaviour - and I don’t blame her for it - because it is because of her mental illnesses that she reacts in such a way. But she won’t acknowledge the fact that she needs to go back to get mental help again. She needs to get off of her high horse and see herself rather than pointing the blame to everyone else.

Honestly, it’s making life hell.  

I’ve been reading up on gaslighting, a hell of a lot this afternoon and it has opened my eyes somewhat to how I am influenced. And with it happening a great deal over the years it has changed how my mind automatically thinks; it’s like it has rewritten the very pathways in my consciousness so they are wrong and far away from how a normal person may think.    [https://lonerwolf.com/gaslighting/ ]    is where I have been reading little pointers and I feel very strongly with numbers 2, 5, 6, 7, 8, 10, 13 and 15. Which is very nearly all of them. I don’t know how trusting the website is or whether the information there is correct but I certainly feel something familiar in the words written there and in the least it conveys how I feel at times. I’m paranoid – I keep looking at my phone to see if she has text again; I’m dreading when she wakes up. She’ll probably do what she always does – act as if nothing happened. Carry on with her day as if nothing was wrong while everyone else shudders in the wake of her destructive madness.

[lyrieux-blog]

Saturday, 10th February.

Time; 18:31

My head is getting worse. All I've been able to think about lately is how fat I am, how fat I feel, how I should just skip some meals and lose some weight. But I don't even eat very much in the first place. I feel constantly fly bloated. I feel horrendous. Ugly. Unattractive. Fat. Frumpy. Hideous.

I'm used to being the skinny one. I'm petrified of putting weight on. Is it the higher dose of my tablets doing it? If it is I'll just stop taking them. I don't even care.

The one doesn't even work. Helps my depression? No it doesn't. I've been feeling horrendously low for over three weeks now. Hiding it is getting more difficult.

We were on the bus today. It was quiet. Mom was with me. And out of nowhere I just wanted to hurt myself, cut myself, go home to find a razor blade to cut my fat thighs. But I couldn't. We were going shopping. So I repressed it as much as I could, disassociated the whole time shopping.

Mom isn't helping. She's depressed too. You cUt start a conversation with her, she just scrolls through her phone all day, every day.

The atmosphere at home is heavy. I can barely sleep. I'm constantly paranoid, constantly hypersensitive to how everyone is acting. I'm either having panic attacks or crying or laughing. There is no happy in between.

My mind had flicked to suicide again, a few times. I'm just so tired.

I wake up every morning hideously stressed. Why? Milly isn't at school, mom won't get up I til she does around noon. The atmosphere is heavy. I panic because I have no motivation and just want to sleep constantly to avoid the heavy atmosphere and general feelings, but I have piano to practice. But it's so hard and I'm scared of failing and I just can't concentrate on anything.

I'm so stressed and I'm out of energy and I'm out of fight. I'm exhausted mentally and physically. Nothing is getting better. Things are getting worse.

It's hopeless.

I'm hopeless.

[lyrieux-blog]

Thursday, 25th January

Time: 11:20

    |-╰ ✮ ╮-|       The past few weeks have been trying to say the very least. There’s much to write down and yet my head refuses to sort things properly into words, into sentences. So I have a feeling this will end up more brief than it needs to be. Than it should be. I’ve been spending some time with Mike. We haven’t really been talking about things as we should be but we have been enjoying each others company. I don’t know what I am to him any more. I don’t think about it to be honest. Most of my mental capacity is taken up by pretending to be fine when I am most certainly not. My sister took an Overdose. Of iron tablets. She spent a night in hospital; Mike was amazing in running us back and forth. I was fine in the day it happened but it recently hit me what actually happened.  I failed in my “I’m clean from self harm for ages” thing. I cut my thigh up and I’m pretty certain at least four of them are scarring. I hate myself for it.  I need to go back to see my Psychiatrist but-... well, I was meant to receive a letter by now for a follow up appointment but I haven’t. And I really need to. My one medication is literally doing nothing. But last time I tried to ween off it did not go well. So there’s that. I don’t know. I don’t seem to be able to order much of a thought today.  

[lyrieux-blog]

Friday, 5th January 2018

Time: 11:23

     |-╰ ✮ ╮-|       I am endlessly deflated. I’ve been talking to Mike... and over the past few months - I thought we were back together. But he didn’t think so. So while I’ve been thinking our relationship is back on track and we’re building things back up again, learning and being amazing together... he said he was just being a supportive friend. So it hurts even more... to know that. But it does make me wander why there were no clear boundaries set by him if we were just friends? Why kisses? Why cuddles and sex? Why ‘I love you’s ‘ and things like that... if I was just a friend? Even if he saw us as slowly building something back up again- You know?  I don’t know. I’m just hurting so severely.  

[lyrieux-blog]

Wednesday, 3rd January 2018

Time: 15:31

      |-╰ ✮ ╮-|       I feel like I’m just suspended in existence. I’m not hungry and I have eaten very very little over the past three days. I have no will or motivation to do anything, I’ve been constantly preoccupied with thoughts of going out for a walk, purposely getting lost and hurting myself. I’ve been thinking about sitting on the edge of the bridge that looks over the train line and just letting myself drop. I’ve had daydreams about throwing myself off of the hills and into the Quarry.  I feel hopeless. I feel lost. I feel distant. I know I’m depressed. My mom has noticed and keeps sighing at me. I can’t help it. She makes it feel like my fault. I know its my fault. But I don’t think it’s possible to hate myself any more than I already do. So it just becomes all consuming. Breathing seems to take so much effort. And I can’t sleep. Last night I slept around two hours. I just kept tossing and turning. I just couldn’t settle. My head wouldn’t switch off. It was just intrusive thought after intrusive thought. It was like someone kept forcing these thoughts into me and not letting me sleep. It was much the same the night before. I have slept perhaps 4 hours in two days. It’s weird, because my body is tired but my head isn’t. Everything feels so uncertain. So weird. So out of proportion. I feel so useless in the expanse of the world. So many of my old friends from highschool are out there, making a difference... and here I am, barely able to brush my hair once a fortnight and get dressed. I’ve been feeling more down for a while. I don’t think my tablets are really helping. I don’t think they’re doing anything. But the idea of going through withdrawal from them is horrendous. Especially since I experienced it the first time trying to come off. I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m lost. Helpless. Smothered. I’ve got no will to do anything. I can’t quite think properly. My head is cloudy. Everything is just... blank. Nothing has any feeling. I just want to curl up. I just want to sleep. I don’t want to wake up.            

[lyrieux-blog]

Wednesday, 3rd January, 2018

Time: 13:37

I’m lay in the bath and the hot water is running slowly. I feel… distant. I feel… like I’m isolated from everything. I fell… like I’m just watching my fingers type on my phone, like I don’t really have any control over it. The world around me feels so far away. I’m tired. I’m calm but it’s not a normal kind of calm. It’s like… a calm I have no control over. Like I’ve been forced to be calm and there’s actually something else festering deeper inside.

The water is getting too hot. It took me a moment or so to be able to move a foot to be able to turn on the cold tap. It felt like I had to use every ounce of strength in my body to do it. It was so difficult to do. Nothing really feels like it’s there. I’m distant. I’m divided from everything. I feel like I’m just trapped in a state of nothing.

I brushed my hair for the first time in forever this morning. The pain of getting the matting out of the back of my head was unreal. I felt like it matched my life perfectly. They say I’m perfectly able yet I couldn’t bring myself to brush my hair, which used to be such a prideful thing of mine. Bright colours and wonderful. Now it’s just a terrible mess of split ends and faded colour. I get angry at myself. Brushing your hair is the easiest thing to do and yet it feels much akin to scaling a mountain.

I burnt my thumb on the hot tap, trying to turn it down. It’s throbbing but… at the same time it feels distant and numb. I’m distant and numb. I’m just lay here and everything feels so still. So weird. So bizarre. I’m so calm. It’s wrong. Where are my intense emotions? Where have my constantly churning thoughts gone? The ones that never silence? The ones that keep me up at night?

What is happening to me? I used to be so smart. I used to have a good future ahead of me. Then I broke. And I felt wrong. I wanted to die. I didn’t plan to be here. Now I’m lost. So lost. I hate every fibre of what I have become. This broken silhouette. This shadow of forgotten, fractured potential. There’s nothing good left. I’m just pain and suffering inside a shell I constantly want to hurt.

My doctor asked me last time if I had issues with my body image. I told him no. I lied. I hate every part of myself. I’m not thin enough. My hips are disgusting. My thighs wobble. I detest it all. I want to fix it, but I don’t even have the motivation to be a human being, let alone go to the gym. So I just carry on loathing. And eat less when this feeling comes. It comes and goes. Just like everything else. It’s overwhelming. Apparently, because it’s not constant, it’s not there.

I want silence. Sound agitates me. I turned the tap off but it’s not quiet. There is a loose valve so the tap drips. It’s almost rhythmic so I become transfixed by the timing, I wait for each one. But it misses one and I get mildly stressed. I can’t stop listening to it, even though I don’t want to. I just want calm. I just want quiet.

But the extractor fan above my head is loud. It sounds like passing traffic and gets louder. And louder. And then quieter. But it never stops. I’m just staring at it and the warmth of the bath water creeps into my hair. It feels strange on my scalp. It doesn’t feel completely real.

I’m lost. I feel like I can’t get control back. Nothing feels like it’s my own. My eyes are heavy and I’m tired. I don’t want to face all of the paperwork I need to do. I can’t face the tribunal for PIP. It’s been such a long process… I’m so broken and so in need for help… But I don’t meet their criteria properly. I can walk. I can speak. So I don’t need help.

But I’m broken. I’m broken and I’m lost and I feel so isolated in this room. The fan won’t be quiet and the tap is still dropping and I can hear people outside laughing. Why can’t there be quiet? I just want peace. I’m overwhelmed dustbin calm.

I’m staring at the shampoo. My hair hasn’t been washed in weeks but the idea of the task alone fills me with aches and pains and fatigue. My legs haven’t been shaved. My teeth haven’t been brushed. I must look a terrible state but I don’t notice myself. Not most of the time. But when I do I just go back to self loathing and picking fault with every part of me.

I have a crooked tooth and my eyes aren’t a nice shape. My ears are disproportionate. My Boobs are too small. My shoulders are too broad. My skin isn’t clear. My stomach is fat and my hips are too wide and too flabby. My thighs wobble and my ankles are covered in scars from flea bites a few years ago. My toes are weird, my legs are smothered in scratches from where I hurt myself in my sleep. I’m a disgusting mess. I need t change everything. If only I could pick myself apart. Start again.

It’s been some time. I thought I was just writing. My hair is wet. It smells nice. My mouth tastes minty and I hate it. I must have washed my hair and brushed my teeth. But I don’t remember doing it. My arms ache and my eyes are still heavy. I’m tired. I should get out of the bath now. The water is going cold and it’s been a long time. I need to get out.

This feeling of being lost. Isolated. Weird. It won’t go away. I don’t feel like I’m here properly. Everything feels so… far away.

[lyrieux-blog]

Monday, January 1st, 2018

Time: 17:00

      |-╰ ✮ ╮-|       Look at that. Brand new year - supposedly a happy new year, right? Of course not. It can never be for me. 

Had a nice night - messed around, had a drink or two, played some games, had lots of cuddles with Mike and generally had a good time. Woke up this morning; same stuff, went out. Then I found out that he’s actually in another relationship. And has been since Boxing day - which means he’s been seeing this other girl for some time. I feel... deflated, used, useless. How can he sit with my family and be part of it when he knows that he’s cheating? I caught him texting and leaving hearts in the end of it but I thought nothing of it - he does that with some of his mates. But no - I was wrong. And once more I find myself fucking heartbroken and all of my terrible issues coming back to flood me. I want to hurt myself, I just want to go to sleep and not wake up... How could he do this? He’s been so open and kind and understanding of my issues; he’s really been trying... but obviously... it was all just a front.  

[lyrieux-blog]

Friday, 29th December

Time: 17:57

       |-╰ ✮ ╮-|       It’s all my fault. I’m such a drain on this family. I got carried away with things that make me happy, that give me something to do, that I’m passionate about. I was selfish, I kept saying to mom that I shouldn’t omission a cosplay because of the price, but she insisted. Then, when I was looking at other wigs, and sending them to her... she told me how we need to make our money last two weeks, how we need to get my baby sisters grave repaired, how my sister needs shoes because hers are falling apart. It’s all my fault. And now I’m paranoid that everything I do isn’t enough. I’ve tidied up, I’ve washed up; all in a panic. There’s nothing else left to do, but I need to do something. I need to.  I need to otherwise I’m even more of a useless failure and mom will hate me all the more. I’m such a terrible drain. Why can’t I just be normal? Why am I like this? Mom is in pain and she has problems and then there’s me who just exists and does nothing but consume oxygen and get in the way. I’m hopeless. There is no point to me. I should cancel my cosplay commission. We’ll lose the £25 deposit but at least we wont have it pay any more. And I should cancel my piano lessons because then that will save us £90 a month. Even though they were supposed to be something for me to aim toward, something therapeutic I can turn to when I’m in a crisis or something. But that doesn’t matter. I’m bringing everyone else down. I’ve had such a depressive few days and now mom is all down because of it; it’s all my fault. I’m a terrible influence on this family. The issues in my head are pulling the family apart. I can’t help how my head works and I’m paranid even more that I’m only going to get worse and I still haven’t done enough housework to make everything okay - there’s nothing else to do and I’m panicking and I can’t stop thinking about it and I don’t know what to do. I’m going to be sick. I just want to hurt myself. How could I do this? How could I be such a fucking drain on those I love? I’m a walking nightmare. An inconvenience. I’m just a drain. A waste of time and space. I shouldn’t be here.