Fixing Myself.

I wish I could fix myself.

It makes me feel that I'm not good enough.

Especially when I'm trying my best.

Its even harder when theres so many difficulties to overcome.

Substance misuse, Eating disorder, Self harm, Trauma.

Anxiety disorder, Personality disorder.

Dissociative disorder.



Sick To Death.

Sick to death of things.

Am actually crying here.

What the hell is wrong with me.

Want things to end.

I don't want life.

Pills pills pills.

Withdrawal.

Fitting during withdrawal.

That was news to me.

I didn't even think I'd taken that much.

Get Back On The Wagon.

I think it's time.

Time to get back on the wagon.

And lose this damn weight.

I'm ready for a new me.

I can do this.



Push Away.

I was struggling before.

Big time.

Now more.

Its only natural given whats happened.

Being raped an all.

Of course things will be harder.

The CMHT still don't give a fuck though.

And the few people that are trying to help.

Well I'm just pushing away.

I'm too scared of being let down.

And I just don't feel worth it.

Pathetic.

It's so fucking ridiculous.

That is all for now.

Incompetant.

Can't believe that.

Really can't.

It's absolutely disgusting.

They'll treat me for my physical problems fine.

But refuse to do a psych eval on me.

Clearly if I've overdosed.

Or cut, both even.

It's clear I need one.

Some people are unbelievable.

Frankie.

That one person.

Who can lift your mood.

Bring a smile to your face.

And brighten your day.

Shes my rock.

Nothing Left.

How the hell do I fix things.

Get my life on some sort of track.

I have no ideas left.

There is no fight left in me anymore.

Trapped between life and death.

I just want to sleep forever.

Bulimia.

Those feelings.

I hate them.

They happen every time.

Why do I not learn.

Binge eat and you will want to die, stupid.

Fuck you, bulimia.

You are destroying me.

Lost Time.

I hate it.

People telling me of things I've done.

Stuff I know nothing about.

It's scary.

And quite disturbing.

What if theres other stuff thats happened.

What if I've hurt someone.

Or someones hurt me.

God I dread to think.

I wonder how I act.

When I'm in that mental state.

Am I a completely different person.

Can I get my anger out.

Maybe it's something I should quit thinking about.

It's not like I can do anything to make it stop.

I have no capacity at those times.

Gah.

KILL.

ME.

NOW.

I.

CANT.

FUCKING.

COPE.

WITH.

LIFE.

Pills going down my throught pronto.

Millbrook.

Still inpatient :( hopefully be discharged soon.

Personality Disorder.

Ha. Apparently I've got one. Assessment for it on Monday. Still in bloody hospital.