reality-asylum0x

[reality-asylum0x]

I haven’t wrote for a while, I’ve had too much going on and my mind is imploding. However I’ve come to realise that I’m either dead or in a coma. Hell doesn’t mean you are in a fiery pit for eternity, but more a slow and painful deterioration of life. Watching everyone die, physical health deteriorating etc.

[reality-asylum0x]

Well it’s 05:17 and I’ve been awake all night. I am so sleepy. Every time I’ve nearly fallen asleep I’ve been getting intrude thoughts and images that have shocked me awake. Hopefully I fall asleep soon without having the choice to stay awake.

I forgot that something really broke my heart the other week. So my sister got 2 new beautiful kittens. My mum and my nan went to see them the following weekend after she got them. It took my mum over a year to come and see my five cats. I asked so many times for her to come. I remember when I asked and she said no because she wanted to put her pyjamas on and she had tv to catch on and she hasn’t got any lipstick.

My stomach sunk and my heart broke when it took my mum a week to see my sister’s cats. It made me feel so outside.

For all they know, I could be on my way to Dignitas and I could be booked in at 14:00. I really can’t get over it. I feel so let down.

[reality-asylum0x]

I forgot this morning I’m watching my laptop, just chilling and I get pins and needles in my legs which didn’t bother me at all because I get them all the time because of my meds. My head is hurting quite a bit, like burning hurts, I just thought fuck it, I’ll be alright. My face gets pins and needles, but I just touched my face so again, it didn’t bother me because it’s not too far from what happens, then from coccyx in a upside down triangle down my bum I get pins and needles. Again, not too alarming, it just feels horrid. But then all of a sudden my right arm just feels very light and disconnected. It was like I was high. And simultaneously my legs felt like lead, very heavy, my stomach felt like it was being sucked in from my belly button to my spine. I text my boyfriend and shouted him because I started to panic. My arms went really heavy and achy. Both of them like a dull ache. And they didn’t feel like they had blood in them. But they did, I checked the colour. Then it felt like something was sitting on my chest and there was no shocking pain just pressure and ache. Everything felt so heavy. Of course I’m panicking. Everything felt so distant.

I was panicking when it was happening because it was terrifying. I don’t know what was happening to my body. I wasn’t even anxious when it started happening, and then I become anxious when it was happening.

Once this “occurrence” happened. My boyfriend went to insinuate the whole thing was a panic attack. I just said, just don’t. I was so upset. I then said why the fuck was I scared. I regret being scared. Stupid bodily reaction. Next time. I will just lay there.

In that moment, I felt so hurt, panic attack. Yeah, of course. I can’t take this anymore. I am so low in mood I can’t even project my voice to talk, I just mumble now.

Where are my family? No one cares. No one has seen me since 28/2/25. I’m chronically ill. I have 2 neurological illness that puts me high risk of stroke. I have problems with my arteries and risk of heart attack. I know have problems with my liver and I don’t know what’s wrong with my lungs my breathing.

They have weekends free. I want my dad.

I am in hell. I know I am. I died why I overdosed in 2018 and I am dead and I am in hell. Mental anguish. Everything is trying to mess with me. Especially with the synchronicities. The little hints here and there. And the full blown shit in my face. They do it on purpose. As if we are floating in a fucking ball. That’s ridiculous. I just don’t even know what I am and apparently I have a skeleton inside me and a skull and a thigh bone that’s actually really thin. It’s gross and disgusting and humans can grow humans inside of them? As if. It’s absolutely insane. There’s things all around me all the time. I know I’m in hell.

[reality-asylum0x]

I’ve just been crying for around 2 Hours. Face contorting, yet completely silently screaming whilst clenching my fists and tensing my stomach trying not to smash my own face in.

Fucking hell. I cannot describe what goes through my head to match the anguish I am feeling. I couldn’t remember what the top of my dad’s head looked like. My memory is blurry and this can’t happen. This is fucked. This is cruel and evil. It’s the start, what else am I going to struggle to imagine? His smile? His beard? I can’t picture him complete in my head. Fuck, I can’t. I can mostly, just not the top of his head. It’s disappearing.

And I learned that when caterpillars going into their cocoons that most of their body dissolves, but left behind are their legs and other bits. I got my dad cremated, and smashed into bone powder. What if I stopped him from developing further? I have never thought of this shit until I was responsible for someone’s body. My poor dad. I want him back. I wish I had someone to hold my hand through my dad dying and there at the funeral home. I regret not holding my dad. I regret it so much I was in so much shock and I reply it over and over and over and I can’t go back to that moment. I just stared, I didn’t think it was real. In the hospital, it was traumatising. I didn’t know what to do. But he was the one who lost his life. And I failed him. He trod in dog poo on the day he went into hospital and trod it into his flat and he freaked out and got really upset and was on the floor cleaning the carpet. And he was breathless and angry and I can’t stop feeling so guilty that his last day at home was spent doing that!!!!

And then we had Toby and I was prop ably being moody. But we had Toby. He couldn’t eat all of his so he put it in the fridge to eat the next day 😭😭 that evening he struggled to much so I called an ambulance and he got ready and put his boots on in the bathroom because of that fucking dog. And he was cleaning his boots in the bathroom whilst waiting for an ambulance. After a while my dad asked me to come wait with him so I took a pillow and laid on the floor, but me being a selfish c*nt stayed there for a little bit, but was too obsessed with my phone and went back to the sofa. What an absolute piece of shit I am. I am such a piece of shit. A fucking piece of shit. A self involved piece of shit. The ambulance took him to hospital as his lungs didn’t sound good. I honestly thought he was going to be home by the next day because I didn’t believe there was much wrong with him. I thought it was just a chest infection and he was overweight and it was hot weather. What a piece of shit I am. My poor daddy was suffering and I was too involved in my own mental health. He was telling me he was ill, he was telling me to put his phone away because I’ll regret it, he told me all this stuff. I was the centre of my dad’s universe and I was just an absolute self-centred wanker.

Turned out my dad had pneumonia caused by the influenza a virus. Later it was discovered that he had lesions on his lungs that were more than likely cancer, but wasn’t a contributing factor in his death so they didn’t investigate any further. He was in hospital for a couple of days. I went to see him, had to wear the full PPE and he appeared normal, we were chatting, having a laugh and that. I left. Then he wanted me to go back on the Tuesday, but I said I couldn’t because I had my last mbt 1-1 the mbt session and I had a date with a girl. I can’t even remember her name now. I remember my dad saying “you should move mountains for your parents.” My mum rang my dad and lectured him saying he puts too much pressure on me. I can’t even bring myself to forgive myself to even allow that. Why did I go on that date? Stupid, emotionally unstable daughter I am. I shouldn’t have even gone to that therapy either. They should have rebooked it for me.

The fucked up thing is recently I found my assessment for mbt and I said my biggest fear is my dad dying, my dad died 2 weeks after mbt finished.

I go up to visit him on Wednesday, the next day after the therapy. I took him up drinks, snacks, grapes, his razors, toothpaste, toothbrush, floss. He never got to eat any of those snacks or drink any of those drinks. I didn’t throw the grapes away. I had to get a friend to do it for me. They were still in the bag, by the front door, all liquified and rotten.

I very have what I deserve now. I have people who don’t believe my illness and the severity of my difficulties. I have people blaming my weight although I was slimmer when this started. My partner has adhd and is addicted to his screen, far worse than I ever was. I have to ask for half hour of just us like my dad did to me. The guilt I feel because I know what it’s like now.

I always helped my dad though. Always. I let him down in the last 6 months. But I always helped him, he was my everything and still is my everything. I’d speak to him for hours, we’d speak every day, multiple times a day. I’d see him all the time. I’d tell him everything. He was always there for me. Always. Now I don’t have him, I can’t cope. I miss him. His existence in this world is so important. He’d feed the foxes and the rabbits, the cats as well. He didn’t add much to pollution. He can come back? I miss him. I keep ringing him all the time. It doesn’t work. I just can’t believe his body is dead. Look, I don’t even know if I’m human and my voice always sounds different so please can you give my dad please?

[reality-asylum0x]

So I’m laying in bed, wide awake watching mafs au ep 35 on my laptop. I roll over to chat to Danny, and then I look at the ceiling and I see some teeth and gums, looking evil, smiling, floating fast from left to right on the ceiling. Then jumped back to left, slide to right, jumped back to left and slide to right etc. the teeth and gums were opening and closing slowly with a jittery transition. It looked cartoony. My hallucinations are getting stronger.

[reality-asylum0x]

I don’t actually think my family likes me. I think my brother likes me, maybe? But, no one else.

I ring my Nan, she said that I seem that I look tired and this call is wiping me out, I tried to explain it’s because of finding the words because of my head. I’m in pain, but I want to talk, but she was saying bye so I said okay bbyeee and that was it.

I rang my brother and he chatted to my absolutely fine and seemed interested and said he was coming to see me this weekend.

I rang my mum, bearing in mind I haven’t seen her in like a month. We were chatting 10 minutes and 29 seconds in a WhatsApp call. Anyway, she was talking about multivitamins and then said she’s going to go because she wants to watch TV and never has enough TV time. I was like yeah okay, in my mind I was thinking I was just telling you what the vitamins are I take. So I was like well quickly as I was saying I take… and then she said, “I’m going because otherwise you won’t stop talking.” I just ahhh I never get to talk much and just said bye. I came off feeling truly, souls crushingly sad and empty. I am insanely suffering physically and mentally. I used Samaritans, I break down all the time, I am f*cked. I am purely headf*cked and I am so ill. And yeah, I just think f*cked it. I never get busted when I am so poorly. Yesterday I had a shower and the whole of my body started having the zaps. ⚡️ my family don’t give a f*ck. where are they? Apart from my brother. If they were sick, I’d visit them all the time. When I wasn’t sick, I visited them all the time! I am incredibly alone.

The f*cked up thing is that I deserve it. I deserve all this rejection and abandonment. I wasn’t emotionally there for my dad. I was there physically. I was wrapped up in my own selfish and pointless sh*t that I weren’t there. I deserve all this. I don’t deserve any kindness. I deserve to be I’ll, I deserve everything.

[reality-asylum0x]

I am so disconnected from everyone and no one seems to care. I am immensely physically struggling and no one seems to care. Where is the help? There is no clean plates for ages, no bowls, cutlery, nothing. I can’t do anything for myself. My rock isn’t very well. I’m fucked and yet no one seems to understand?

And yet I do understand. I deserve it. I deserve no help. I deserve to suffer this.

I can’t stop thinking about my dad telling me that you should love mountains for your parents if they are in hospital and I was too focused on finishing my stupid fucking therapy session. I should have gone to see him instead of that! I should have, because the next day was the last 20 minutes I had with him before being put into an induced coma. My mum grilled him for a bit telling him to chill putting pressure on me. I feel so fucking guilty because my dad was scared. He pocket called me by accident and I have a voicemail of his talking to the nurse. I really didn’t think he was bad, I thought he’d be home after the antibiotics were done. What a thick, selfish cunt that I couldn’t even be there visiting my dad more and comforting my dad because he’d be here with me! He’d be helping me right now. I can’t reverse time, I’ve tried. I can’t stop thinking about the details. What did he say just before they put him to sleep? What did he look like when they put the tube done his throat? Was they kind to him when doing so? When I went to say goodbye, he didn’t have the surgical tape on his eyes and they were open a little bit. He didn’t have the tube down his throat anymore as they put it through his neck. He was like vibrating or shivering, I can’t explain it, from where he was being made to breathe on life support. His lips were greyish, he had lines everywhere, the beeping of the machine, his blood pressure so low and his pulse, I didn’t know what to do, I was so overwhelmed I just sat there and stared at him and help his hand and mostly stared at the machine. I left at 23:50 to get the last train home. I wish I stayed until 4am, when he passed, and just got an uber. I just didn’t know what to do. I was 28 with no supporting adult with me. I’m fucked up in the head.

I can’t stop thinking about the sheet being put over him, the porter taking him to the mortuary and then put in a fridge.

It took me a MONTH to register his death because I was fucked up and no one was helping me!!!

Once I finally sorted that out, I went to view my dad at the funeral home and omg, my dad’s body. I kept thinking he was going to open his eyes and say he was joking, but he didn’t. I just stared as usual. I didn’t know what to do. I was in there for 2 hours. The lady working there had to help me out, she helped me hold his hand, it was absolutely freezing cold. I said gators and she helped me walk out. That was the last time I saw my dad in an open coffin.

I came out balling my eyes out. I rang a relative and asked her if she could pick me up and she said for me to get an uber as she had work in an hour and it means she has to go that way again. It is a 15 min car journey. I was balling my eyes out in the back of an uber. I’d just seen my dad.

The pain of him not coming back is fucked. I can’t stop thinking about his body melting. I can’t stop thinking about his skin bubbling and melting, I can’t stop thinking about him being in flames. I can’t help but think his skeleton being left and being scraped into a mix with a heavy ball to make his cremains “ashes.” I have my dad’s crushed up bones. My poor daddy. I didn’t listen to him. I didn’t think he was that ill and now exactly the same thing is happening to me. People in my family don’t believe me or understand how ill I am so I deserve this. The drs don’t always believe me until they do tests, again I deserve it.

My dad isn’t coming back. He was here and now he is gone. Make that make sense. Fuck what anyone says it doesn’t make sense.

Before I started MBTherapy that one of my greatest fears is my dad dying. The day after I finish my last session there, he gets put in an induced coma and 10 days later he is dead.

The drs failed him, but more importantly I failed him. I want him back so much, I need him back. I want my dad. The pain doesn’t get easier. I ring him most days. I used to ring him and if he didn’t answer it was probably because he was in the bath, I’d keep ringing and he’d hop out and answer. He’s answer anytime of night, I keep ringing now because he will eventually answer because he always does, it doesn’t ring, it says number has been disconnected. Home number and mobile.

[reality-asylum0x]

I can’t explain what a 𝒻𝓊𝒸𝓀𝒾𝓃ℊ trip out this is. Existence. I don’t know what I am. Who I am. I don’t trust anybody. I don’t want to have all of this gunk inside of my body, it’s 𝒻𝓊𝒸𝓀𝒾𝓃ℊ disgusting. Take it all out. Bones, organs, gloop and goo and slime. The sound of our insides must sound like gooey spaghetti. That’s even if that’s real.

How does your brain control all this stuff when it’s just goo, and your organs is just goo. Go to the supermarket and you can buy a lambs heart or go to the butchers and you can probably buy a lamb brain. That goo is creating consciousness? And people just accept that? This is a fucking head fuck!!!!!!!!!

What is happening? Everything is tripping me out! Nothing is making sense.

We are in a planet? In space? What the fuck?

I want my dad!!!! My dad got taken away from me and life is so cruel! What the fuck is that! What even is that?!

My body is rotting I’m in so much pain and discomfort, what the fuck is that?! Torture?! Karma?! Punishment?! I know someone is doing something to me. But I don’t even know what I am. ℐ 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓉ℴ 𝓈𝓁ℯℯ𝓅 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓃ℴ𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓀ℯ 𝓊𝓅. I just want to be with my dad.

[reality-asylum0x]

My rock said to me today that it sounds like I’m forcing my exhale breath to make my wheeze sound the way it is.

My heart sunk… and my stomach turned. I felt absolutely broken. Please no, please not you. Please not you be doubting me.

I needed to cough. I wasn’t forcing my breath out, I would have been breathless. I just needed to cough and therefore I was squeaking. I was holding in my cough because of my neurological illness. It causes me to suffer so much with my head when I cough and a lot of the time I literally see “stars”, like in the cartoons, and it simply terrifies me.

I coughed, because of this, and it sorted out my wheeze, but it ẜυϲΚεδ me up for a bit.

I’ve been left with this overwhelming feeling of extreme sadness. I expressed my feelings and my rock got defensive and abrupt and we had a little time apart. On the phone I expressed my feelings again, and I was met with “uh huh, uh huh.” I could tell it was to just shut me up. I very quickly stopped talking and didn’t mention it anymore. I felt so unheard and it was brushed off like it wasn’t anything.

Not being believed is one of my biggest fears and triggers. I have had to fight GP’s to believe me I wasn’t very well with my head, they didn’t believe me. 4 GP’s didn’t believe me. I went to A&E countless times and they didn’t believe me. I had been referred to psych so many times and it drove me insane!! No one was helping me. My family didn’t believe me, my rock didn’t believe me. Everyone was blaming it on anxiety!!!!!!! I ended up going on a lovely psych unit stay!

I went private to a neurologist who did all the MRI/MRA/MRV scans and found out I was ill!! I wasn’t making it up! Everything I said was true all along!!!!!!!! I had suffered for so long with people not believing me!!!! I cried with happiness that I was ill which is so ẜυϲΚεδ up!! I was finally validated! But, that was just one illness diagnosed. With that written on paper, it allowed me to go to A&E with written evidence that allowed me to be taken seriously. The drs finally looked behind my eyes are saw I had severe papilledema and I gave me an emergency lumber puncture. I can’t be bothered to explain anymore at the moment. But, to this day even with diagnosis, I am still fighting drs, because of stupid judgement of my mental illness diagnosis and history. I still get judgement from others and now to hear this from my “rock?”

I had to fight for my heart diagnosis. Well, I didn’t fight for it, I got diagnosed with it in hospital, but my old drs didn’t send all my records over and my current gp simply don’t believe me. Honestly. I actually began to believe I was lying too. Until, A&E were going to refer me to psych, they got all my health records and they Said CAS in front of my mum. I burst out crying then as well, because I was like it is true and no one believed me!! I was like “see mum, I told you!”

I don’t understand why no one believes me? I have never made up an illness. I only started to get anxious around my health when the NHS were medically gaslighting me. No one was believing me. It drove me absolutely nuts. It was suffocating.

The thing is I deserved it and I still do deserve it. My dad was unwell and I didn’t think it was anything serious. He was breathless and I thought it was because he was overweight and it was summer. I should have paid attention more. I didn’t. He had pneumonia and now he is dead.

My rock saying that to me today felt like every painful memory had acid poured into it. I felt so hopeless, lonely and full of pure sorrow. And then just being like “uh huh” because they’d zoned out of the conversation made me feel incredible numb and alone. You can make me a thousand drinks, I am truly grateful for that, but what you think of me is what I cherish.

I don’t want to be here. ❤️‍🩹

[reality-asylum0x]

I always thought that human thigh bones were a lot thicker than what they appear to be. I watch a gore video of a dude that had his leg all mushed up and splatted from coming off his motorbike. His lower leg was completely off and his thigh bone was sticking out like a ham joint and he was just moving his leg and I was just staring at it like “what the fuck.”

The bone was so thin and there was all this thick meaty muscle and whatever, kind of like a doner kebab grill.

I can’t look at my legs the same. Or anyone’s legs the same. I don’t believe my legs are real, like that video? But, I have cut them loads. I know most people’s aren’t real.

Whatever this existence is… it’s a head fuck.

[reality-asylum0x]

“𝓢𝓱𝓮 𝓪𝓹𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓬𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓼 𝓶𝔂 𝓯𝓪𝓬𝓮, 𝓫𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓸𝔀𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓶𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓪𝓷 𝓮𝓻𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓮𝓸𝓾𝓼 𝓼𝓮𝓷𝓼𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓼𝓪𝓯𝓮𝓽𝔂. 𝓤𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓷𝓮𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓰𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓻𝓼, 𝓼𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓼 𝓰𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓵𝔂 𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓶𝔂 𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓾𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓵 𝓼𝓱𝓮 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓽𝓸𝓹 𝓸𝓯 𝓶𝔂 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓮𝓴, 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝓼𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓵𝓸𝔀𝓵𝔂 𝓯𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓸𝔀𝓼 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓾𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓵 𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓬 𝓱𝓪𝓰 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓬𝓱 𝓶𝔂 𝓮𝔂𝓮 𝓼𝓸𝓬𝓴𝓮𝓽𝓼. 𝓢𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓶𝓲𝓵𝓮𝓼, 𝓘 𝓼𝓶𝓲𝓵𝓮, 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝓼𝓱𝓮 𝓶𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓭𝓲𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓼𝓮𝓵; 𝓪 𝓶𝓸𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓷 𝓵𝓸𝓫𝓸𝓽𝓸𝓶𝔂. 𝓘𝓼 𝓲𝓽 𝓼𝓸𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓶𝓮? 𝓘 𝓴𝓮𝓮𝓹 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓻𝓱𝔂𝓽𝓱𝓶𝓲𝓬 “𝓫𝓮𝓮𝓹 𝓫𝓮𝓮𝓹 𝓫𝓮𝓮𝓹 𝓫𝓮𝓮𝓹.” 𝓦𝓱𝓲𝓵𝓼𝓽 𝓼𝓱𝓮’𝓼 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓬𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓮𝓭 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷 𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓪𝓻𝓶𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓮𝓵𝓭 𝓵𝓪𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔀𝓱𝓲𝓵𝓼𝓽 𝓘’𝓶 𝓬𝓻𝔂𝓲𝓷𝓰. “𝓑𝓮𝓮𝓹, 𝓫𝓮𝓮𝓹, 𝓫𝓮𝓮𝓹, 𝓫𝓮𝓮𝓹!” 𝓘’𝓶 𝓼𝓬𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓰! 𝓘’𝓶 𝓪𝔀𝓪𝓴𝓮. 𝓘 𝓪𝓶 𝓪 𝓯𝓸𝓸𝓵.” - @reality-asylum0x

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So, I just dumped my therapist. I understand that I signed a contract that states that I can’t get a refund if I don’t give 48hrs notice for a cancellation. I actually asked to rebook for either an appointment later the same day of original appointment, the day I wrote the email or either of the following 3 days. I gave her 32.5 hours notice. I know via contract I have no grounds to stand on. I have chronic and complex neurological illnesses that heavily affect my memory. My Nan needed to have an ear appointment and I said I’d look after my grandad who has recently become bed bound and is end of life. My Nan wouldn’t have gone to this appointment and she would have carried on suffering. I asked if I could move my appointment to later that day or to any available slots in the next coming days. In this message I expressed I understand it’s 32hrs, but in my understanding this is not a cancellation it’s moving the appointment. No. This is a cancelled appointment. If I can’t attend this appointment then I will not receive a refund, if I want to book an appointment I need to pay another session. Her books are so flexible and open there’d have been space to move me. I know I signed a contract and I know she needs to make money and stick to boundaries. I’ve never done this before, it wasn’t the morning of, or the night before nor was it due to lack of respecting the therapy session. This highlighted how much my pain and misery is just a virtual ATM to her. I am so angry. Angry at myself for not knowing better. I could tell each session she didn’t give a fuck. There was no reading between the lines of what I was saying. She wasn’t getting me to explore what I was saying or anything. I have had therapy for years and this one just seemed lazy.

[reality-asylum0x]

My first entry. A cliché of not knowing how I want to start puking out the rot in my head and how to organise each corrosive lump that stinks of putrid stomach acid.

Well it’s currently 04:03 and I’m listening to a song that is currently repeat “train wreck, that I am. And I am, what I am, what I am, what I am, a train wreck.” Sounds about right.

I’m currently suffering with a head that feels like it’s going to explode and drying my tears. Hour or so break downs are a very regular occurrence! 🖤🌸