The Unfairness Of Life.

*Swearing near the end*

 

 

I have just realised why nobody talks to me anymore. For so long I’ve wondered why…. what I could possibly have done to them all. I thought of every reason – from them having their own stuff to think about, to not knowing what to say to someone grieving and suicidal. But it’s finally hit me…

 

They don’t talk to me and don’t want to be my friends because I blog. Because I’ve blogged about what I went through with my former best friend. They think if we were friends and they fell out with me I would blog about them too.

 

I can totally understand this thinking as well. And I don’t blame them for it. I can see how it’s my fault that I’m alone now. And I feel I deserve to be alone. That being said, I am not to blame for everything. As much as this goes against what I’m saying, I do blame my former best friend… for all of it. She may have decided to abandon me for a blog I wrote last year. That may be where she’s pinning the blame. But we had issues before that blog. She was neglecting me before that. I was ill and paranoid and grieving, and dealing with all that alone. The initial blog that caused issues with us was not about her. It was about paranoia and how it manifests as jealousy and possessiveness rather than the insecurity and fear it is. I was talking about self-fulfilling prophecies. I was right to talk about that as it’s exactly what happened. What happened after that was a misunderstanding. I felt rejected by her and like a burden to her. So I gave her the space it sounded like she wanted. But that’s not how she took it. She thought I asked for space. So she was waiting for me to approach her again. I couldn’t do that. I’d been rejected. I couldn’t put myself out there yet again. I was locked within myself. I did the best I could at the time and used my blog to break out of the bubble and communicate. Perhaps my pain and desperation stopped me wording it right. I know a lot was misinterpreted by her. But that’s the blog that offended her and she’s used as a scapegoat to ditch me.

 

But that blog was not the cause. It was the effect. Her abandoning me was the cause. The pain was the effect – and I used my blog to express my pain. I was also using it to fight for our friendship, though it clearly wasn’t received that way. I could’ve done what she was doing to me and stayed quiet…. never spoken again….. let apathy and indifference win the day. But because I bloody cared…. cared too much…. felt too much pain at losing her…. I had to say something. I had to get her to talk to me, as I couldn’t talk to her. It just went horrifically wrong, which led to her attacking and blaming me for everything. That’s what killed our friendship. That, plus snubbing me after I extended an olive branch at Christmas. And then blocking me etc. But I reckon I’m conveniently getting the blame, for blogging. I blogged because I was in pain and had nobody to turn to.

 

But now I think blogging my truth has cost me everyone else. And I’m angry with my former friend for that. Because had she treated me well, understood my illness and intentions, communicated with me properly and not run away and abandoned me at my lowest, I’d not feel so desperate that the only way to stay alive is to blog and let it all out. But nobody wants to know me now, as they think they’ll be the next topic for my blog. Well yeah…. as things stand at this moment in time I’m beyond being able to cope, and if they are like everyone else and refuse to treat me with the love, care, consistency and respect I need, and intend to hurt me then yes, they would probably end up being blogged about. But if they were decent people and intended to treat me well, then that’s a different story altogether.

 

 

What it’s demonstrating to me, yet again, is that some of us are destined for a life of pain, betrayal and abandonment. Life and the people in it will not let us move on.

 

People have endlessly hurt, betrayed and abandoned me…. unfortunately not everyone can bounce back from that. So I talk about the pain I’m in, and people don’t want to be there to prove I didn’t deserve to be treated that way. Because they think they’ll end up being talked about too.

 

It reminds me of how guys don’t want to be with a virgin. So you never get to change the fact you’re a virgin, because nobody ever gives you the chance to be anything other than one. So nobody will ever want to be with you because of the inexperience … and it never ends.

 

Just like I used to be thought of as ‘boring’. But nobody ever gave me a chance to prove I wasn’t. They never wanted to be my friend, spend time with me and see I wasn’t as quiet as I seemed, and I knew how to have fun. They chose to judge me on the opinions of others.

 

And the biggest of them all – when you are mentally ill and deteriorating, people want nothing to do with you. They only want to be around positive energy and those who are recovering.  It’s been the most sickening lesson of all in the past year or two…. as I have become more ill, people have talked to me less.

 

They don’t want to be around people who are depressed…. I heard as much on my therapy course two years ago – it was the thing that caused me to walk out the room until the break. Being mentally ill is tough enough without feeling people won’t want to be around you if you show how you feel.

 

I’ve spent years not showing my reality. Hiding my illness and depression behind a smile and a mask. I’d probably fit the profile of someone ‘high-functioning’. Not so much nowadays. Now my meltdowns are more public. I’m spiralling out of control and struggle to do life like before. I can’t pretend to be okay anymore. And people aren’t okay with that.

 

Even my best friend of about 13 years didn’t like my reality when she saw it. Yes I wore the mask for her too…. afraid I’d be alone if the reality of how I felt was known. I wasn’t being deliberately two-faced though. I knew no other way. I’m the person who got up after a BCG injection, gave a smile and said ‘thank you very much’. I’ve always wanted to be polite and to not make people feel uncomfortable. I don’t want to worry people or upset them, or bring them down. I’ve always felt like a burden. The fear of disappointing people or putting them out is the only thing that’s stopped me putting myself in hospital. The three times I’ve needed treatment were horrible for me emotionally. I felt so ashamed and guilty. But since the last two times – two years ago nearly – I’ve never really improved mentally. I have however become better at hiding things to some extent… usually until the point I explode. I’ve become more volatile…. unpredictable… unstable in my behaviour – because I’m trying to pretend to be better than I am, because I know nobody cares how I really am… but it’s harder to do now, so I very quickly slip into my ‘episodes’.

 

But it’s something I have noticed before – if you post about achievements despite your illness, or you talk about progress, people like it and encourage you. But if you say you’re not doing so well they give you a wide berth. Well they do with me for some reason. I notice they don’t with many other people. That’s why I think it’s personal against me specifically … being ignored is seriously increasing my paranoia… which makes me more ill… which makes people stay away even more. It’s a vicious circle.

 

We were taught about vicious circles in therapy, and about breaking them. The only way I can break my vicious circle is to miraculously not be mentally ill anymore! To not be traumatised! To pretend to be okay! I cannot and should not have to do this. People should care. And even if I did pretend to be okay now, it’s too late – these people will never be my friends. They’ve seen too much of me falling apart. The people in my life now will not want to know me anymore. It’s ruined. For good.

 

So I’m going to have to leave them all behind. I don’t see any of them begging me to stay in their lives. I won’t be missed. I’m alone anyway, so it won’t make any difference to me. I’ve been talking into a void for the last few months, with nobody noticing or replying to me, so I’ll keep talking to myself, like every sane and rational person does!

 

I don’t think any of these people I considered to be my friends will ever understand just how embarrassing and humiliating it has been to have such a public breakdown… to not be able to contain it…. to lose control of it and for it all to unravel and get worse and worse, and no matter what you say or do you cannot make it better again…. they don’t know what it’s like to feel like they’re all standing there watching me drown, and they’re not even considering reaching out a hand to save me. I think they’re willing me to drown. Alone. And that’s what I will do now.

 

I have a choice… I can choose these people, who don’t talk to me and don’t appear to care about me as a friend, or I can choose blogging. They’ve made my decision easier. I choose blogging. It may have caused a fuck-load of damage, but given there’s nothing left now – I’m so far down this path now I might as well keep going, these people aren’t here for me, the damage is done, I can never imagine liking myself again, let alone them liking me again, and the only one that’s ever been there for me, besides my friend who killed herself three months ago, is this damn blog. I choose the fucking blog.

 

Maybe one day my life will start afresh… with people who haven’t seen what a total freak I am…. people who care…. people who include me….. people who never leave me feeling I might as well be dead….. but then pigs might fly! I don’t see that happening. I don’t see anything other than blackness, screaming, pain and death. Nothing can undo these past few months. I can’t forget what I’ve experienced with people. And they won’t forget what they’ve witnessed in me. So there’s no hope of recovering anything that’s come before. The only hope I have, which I honestly can’t see at this point, is to build myself up as a new person, with new relationships. But this illness will always be a part of me. I fear I will never survive in this ‘social’ world as long as I have this illness. The pain is too much to bear. And I will never rid myself of the memories and scars of the past couple of years. You cannot escape the past. And my past will be the death of me.

 

 

 

 

A Birthday Reflection.

As my birthday’s here I thought I’d take a minute to reflect on this last year of my life…. there have been some great moments in it, which I will talk about in a minute… but all those things are overshadowed by the negatives. This has without a doubt been one of the worst years of my life. I don’t want a birthday. It certainly won’t be a ‘happy’ one, let’s put it that way. I’d love to think that starting a new year of my life, I could begin again and have a better year going forward… sadly I don’t expect this to be the case.

I’m so isolated. I’ve lost my best friend, my Godchildren, my only other friend is dead, and so is my granddad. And looking back at who I used to be I feel nothing but disgust and shame, and longing to be a child again. I hate who I’ve become. Everything feels wildly out of control and unstable.

I remember after 2016 when members of my family were struck by various illnesses and my granddad was in hospital for six weeks, and almost died… at the New Year, thinking ‘This next year will be better… it has to be’… but I knew it wouldn’t be. I knew it would be the year my granddad would pass away. We’d watched him deteriorate for months. So there was the knowledge it would happen. In that way it could never be a ‘better year’. I thought 2018 could be a better one, but my granddad was still gone…. and people forgot. My friends neglected and abandoned me. I was abused online by left-wingers on three separate occasions. Had my voice shut down on every platform effectively. Fell out with my best friend. Was suicidal all year. Surely 2019 had to be better – I had so many fun things planned for this year…. no. The final betrayal and abandonment by my former best friend. And my other friend died by suicide. My mental health has smashed on the floor. My meltdowns are more public. I can’t control the demons inside anymore. I’m hanging on by a thread, living from event to event, wishing it all away… trying to get to the next goal and the next…. as though I’m trying to reach somewhere or something… only I don’t know what it is. An end??

So no… I don’t think this next year of my life will be better. If anything it will be purely about survival and recovery. It will be hard and lonely. No matter what good things may possibly be in store for me, nothing will change the fact my friend is dead and how broken and upset I am about that. Nothing will change the fact I’ve lost my best friend and my Godchildren. Nothing will change the fact my granddad isn’t here anymore. And nothing can change the past or make people care about me.

 

But anyway… in terms of what’s happened in the last year of my life…. it’s been the first year of my life where I haven’t seen the person I viewed as my best friend. This next one looks to be the first without even talking to them. But the events that have happened are:

  •  I had my last MRI & was discharged, & had my neurology appointment.
  • Was referred to CMHT, who initially rejected the referral, but saw me in January – directing me elsewhere first.
  • Westlife reunited and announced their tour!
  • Saw Dara O’Briain – wasn’t a great night due to my mental health & Brexit jokes.
  • Looked after the gerbils at least three times.
  • Went to the closing night of Take That musical ‘The Band’.
  •  Went and saw Boyzone on their farewell tour.
  • Went to the Leave Means Leave rally in London – great atmosphere.
  •  Walked 50 miles in 50 days for Parkinson’s UK.
  •  Went on my own to a new place – Brighton… for a heart-wrenching reason though.
  •  Went to see Take That for the first time – outdoor gig, close to B stage.
  •  Went and saw Westlife in the front row for the first time ever. Was amazing!
  •  Two of my colleagues lost their fight against that bastard, cancer.
  •  Samarathon  – 26.2 miles throughout July for Samaritans.

 

So a lot has happened…. good / bad. It’s interesting to look back at it like this… but it’s hard to feel anything about the good stuff. Like I said, it’s overshadowed by losing my two oldest friendships of 13+ years in the last few months, and the resulting grief. Being left with nothing is excruciating. I’m struggling to hold on. I’m so detached from life now and every minute that isn’t numbness, is pain. But I’m trying so hard.

I’m keeping to myself a lot more now, in the last couple of weeks. I’m hoping to set myself the goal of walking a marathon a month, to keep me active and better my mental health – I’ll be doing it purely for health reasons and that feeling of achievement, and not doing it for charity, as I failed to raise any money the last time, which negatively impacted on my mental health. It’ll just be for me. I’ll be focusing on getting the help I need, and looking into bereavement counselling. I’m also working on a new blog which will be more informative and helpful to others hopefully – less negative and personal. It’ll still be about my experience of mental illness, but hopefully more constructive than destructive.

My aim in the next year is to lose weight, to get well and to stay alive. Anything else is a plus. I hope to expect less of people and to accept I’m on my own, and to be able to cope with that reality better.

I’m looking forward to a holiday at some point, doing what I love most.

I may be turning a year older now, but I’m really only a day older. I’m still the same person. There are no miracles. I’m still dealing with the same stuff today that I was yesterday. Age is just a number, especially when you’re living from minute to minute, trying to hang on. Same sh*t different day and all that… the years spill over into each other. I have a lot to work on with myself… I need to find myself again and learn to like myself again. I have to do this alone. I know that now. And I’m going to try my best.

It may not be a ‘happy birthday’ but it’s just a day like any other. I think sometimes we can ruin ourselves by building these days up to be something they’re not, and thinking we have to act happy. I plan to tolerate it and carry on the fight on the other side. That fight is more important than just a day and a new age.

 

Hope people enjoy the long weekend coming up. Speak to you soon.

 

xxxx

 

 

 

 

I’m Sorry.

*Strong suicide theme – don’t read if feeling unsafe yourself, please*

 

I keep hearing Liv say to keep writing, and that my blog was good for her as my friend, to help understand how I’m feeling. That I should use it however I want to… it’s my space etc. – but I’m seeing other bloggers and I’m thinking how positively they write. I feel ashamed of my blog. I feel it’s so negative. I wish so much I could be positive and helpful to others.

I’m just struggling so much with life myself. And the reality is I have absolutely nobody I can talk to about that. So I write on my blog. I know those in my life won’t read it. The only one who ever did was Liv. She said she always read my posts. I miss her so much right now. Again, I have nobody to talk to about that. My doctor is the only person I can be honest with about everything, and I can only see her once a month.

I just feel the walls closing in around me at the moment. Even having told the doctor things nobody else knows about how dark things are for me, they’ve only become much darker since my last appointment a week ago. I’m scared where this is going to end. I’ve never felt more alone or scared in my whole life. Everything is a complete mess. There is nothing good left in life. There is no ‘life’. It’s just pain and grief… so much loss…. and just pure despair.

The only people I want and need to talk to, are the same people who are either gone from this world or abandoned me for being ill. My heart is so broken by it all. I wish it would stop beating. The only people who even notice my existence are my closest family. To be born into a world where only they would notice me not being here, is to never have really existed. It’s such a waste. To have made no difference to anyone’s life…. not a positive one anyway. I hate myself so much. I hate other people. I hate everyone who just threw me away like I was nothing. How can I ever recover from what they all did to me?

When Liv took her life, it was too much to bear. I got in touch with my former best friend who abandoned me, as I just couldn’t take having lost them both. It made no difference. I even got told by her husband it doesn’t mean things going back to normal….. just like she had painfully said to me that nothing would ever be the same now. I don’t understand why not – all I did was be mentally unwell last year…. how does that warrant treating me differently from now on? It’s not my fault. Why am I being blamed and persecuted for being unwell?? It doesn’t matter how much pain I’m in, how ill I am or if I didn’t even exist anymore. She’s decided I’m the villain in all of this and I deserve to be punished by her withholding friendship from me. She’s killed me.

And Liv’s gone. Nothing can change that. Nothing can make that alright. I have to carry that with me forever. I feel angry, because things were hard enough for me without this. But then I’m also angry that even with this added to the mix, nobody cares, not even my former best friend. Nobody can see how close to the edge I am… it’s almost as if they don’t want to acknowledge that suicide can get passed down the chain. Even people without mental illness can feel suicidal after losing someone to it. I was suicidal before losing her. Enough things had broken me and made me want to give on living. But I’ve talked about my suicidal feelings too much and done nothing about it, so people don’t believe me anymore. That’s why I’m not talking to people anymore. What’s the point? Nobody takes me seriously anymore. Nobody understands or cares. I know the occasional person on my blog might, and I’m so grateful to those people for noticing me. But I need people in my life to see me and save me. I’ve given up on it though. They’d have to read my blog to hear anything more from me. Any they don’t care enough to do that. And if they did then they don’t care enough to reach out to me and ask if I’m okay. If my former friend didn’t want me to end my life then she should’ve thought about that before abandoning me at a time like this.

I feel so alone. So lost. So entirely destroyed. I can’t be fixed anymore. I mean it. Nothing can make this okay ever again. I feel sick all the time, and numb from the pain. Not numb enough. Things were extremely dark before Liv died but I could still imagine light at the end of the tunnel one day…. the tiniest bit of light. Even if I couldn’t see how to reach it.  But now…… I’m sealed in a dark tomb. I can’t get out. I see nothing. I’m struggling to breathe under the weight of darkness and nothingness and utter pain, and nobody will reach out a hand and help me out. Nobody will show me the way towards the light again. I wouldn’t believe it existed or that I could ever find it again, even if they did, but nobody’s even tried. They’re all just leaving me to rot in that tomb, all alone. I just want the darkness to kill me now. I’m as good as dead and buried already and everyone treats me as though I’m a ghost. So why can’t it all just end? I’ve had enough.

 

And that’s what I mean about feeling ashamed of this blog. Because instead of breaking stigma, helping others and showing my journey to recovery, I’m basically documenting my downfall into nothingness. I’m laying bare my breakdown. And what’s killing me right now is that Liv isn’t here to guide me. I just need her so much right now, and she’s not here and never will be again. And I don’t even have anyone else to fill that void. I have nothing and nobody. It hurts too much. She’s the only person I need to talk to right now. I don’t know what to do.

I’m sorry. I’ll stop writing here. I can’t see anymore, having cried writing the whole damn thing. I don’t know the purpose of this. I just had to let a little of my pain out somehow. And no, I don’t feel better for it. But I’ll do what I can to solve that for tonight. Don’t want anyone to worry about me imminently… not that I believe they would. I’m sorry, I hope I haven’t triggered anyone. I was going to switch to a new blog – a positive one.  A fresh start. But I can’t be positive at the moment. Maybe I should truly suffer in silence… total silence… I don’t want to upset others with my feelings.

Hope everyone’s okay. Keep safe. I’ll try my best to as well. It’s just becoming harder every day to do, especially feeling so alone.

xxxx

 

 

 

100% Done.

*Self-harm reference*

 

 

I’m 100% withdrawing from everyone now. The last few days have been tough. I’ve posted things then deleted them as I remember nobody cares. I don’t exist. Wednesday was a bad one. I posted a video about how alone and suicidal I felt. I got a message in response. It was actually a good message, but my mind being scarred by traumatic experiences with others, felt threatened by it. I felt guilty for sharing it. I thought I had yet again upset and offended people. I was so ashamed of myself. I felt like the past with my best friend was repeating. Every minute detail was replaying and I seriously couldn’t cope with it.

I felt so horrible about myself that night that I got my self-harm kit and tipped it onto the bed, ready to punish myself. Luckily I was tired and put my head down on a pillow for a moment, to think, and woke up a while later. So falling asleep saved me from harming myself.

I now know the past wasn’t repeating itself. I wasn’t under threat. Everything’s ‘okay’. Only it’s not. I’m filled with self-loathing. I’m still alone. I’m still suicidal. And the anxiety I’m experiencing is affecting me physically. I can’t cope with friendships anymore. I so desperately don’t want to be alone, but I don’t want to take what shitty ‘friends’ did to me, out on innocent people.

I hate that I was ranting about nobody caring, when the reality is that they all have their own stuff to deal with. It makes me feel so selfish. I just find it upsetting because I was dealing with my own stuff, and missed that Liv needed me. So always hearing that everyone’s too caught up in their own stuff to deal with me, it’s hurtful, and I feel like screaming at them – that’s what happened with Liv. I just don’t think anybody understands exactly how lonely I am.

It’s also a fact that people I have on Facebook are not as close to me as I thought. I think in my mind I exaggerated their role in my life. Because I only allow people I like and trust on my profile… people I want to talk with, I place more value on them than they would with me. I’m a nobody to most of them. I’m an acquaintance at best. Many people have hundreds of online friends. So they won’t see my posts. They won’t notice my existence or if I didn’t exist anymore. I need to learn to not take it so personally. I just don’t mean as much to them as they did to me. I’m just not meant for ‘social’ media anymore.

It’s a difficult situation because I have lost the two best friends I had left. One abandoning me for being too mentally ill, and the other ending her own life. They both happened this year. Two friendships of over thirteen years… gone. I have nothing left now. I guess I hoped these less close friends might support me after I lost everything… but I can’t hold it against them that they haven’t. They have more important things and people in their lives than me. I have to just accept I’m alone now. Completely.

I have to continue grieving my granddad, without support – Liv was my support. I have to now grieve the loss of Liv, with nobody to help me do that or bring light back into my life. I have to grieve and cope with the loss of my best friend and my Godchildren. I lost them for reasons I do not understand. It’s unfair the way I have been treated. But I have to accept what’s happened, and that I am totally alone in all of this. It’s just the way it is. I used to be alone all the time. I didn’t have friends. The difference is I didn’t have so much pain to deal with back then. I was young. I had my mental illness, but I didn’t have the life experiences I have now. That’s why I’m so desperate to not be left all alone again. Because I’m not sure I can survive so much traumatic stuff, by myself, unsupported.

But no matter how loud I scream for help….. no matter what I say, how much I beg, I will never get true care out of anyone in my life right now. If they honestly cared they’d have said something to me by now. They wouldn’t have left me in silence, suffering, wanting to end it all. I’d get more than apologies and excuses…. I’d get care, love, support and all other things friends are about. I’d get it without having to ask for it. The second I have to explain what I need from friends, is the second I realise they’re not my friends. Friends know what to do. If I have to ask for it then I won’t believe it when it happens – the words will be insincere.

The thing that upsets me the most is seeing other people reach out at crisis point and getting supported. Being noticed. People caring. But me? Nope. I’m invisible. And the thing about feeling invisible is that it makes me feel extremely violent towards myself. Because it’s like I don’t exist. So if I don’t exist then surely it will cause no pain if I stick my fingers into my ribcage and tear my own heart out…. it won’t hurt if I scratch all my skin off and rip all my hair out. It won’t hurt it I smash my head through a brick wall. I want to violently throw myself around and cause myself so much pain and destruction, because I shouldn’t feel it….. I’m not real am I…? I’m a ghost. And if I actually screamed, nobody would hear me. So I feel very close to making quite a spectacle of myself sometimes, from the frustration of not existing to others, and being in such intense pain through it all.

I know I don’t matter to anyone. I’m understanding now that I’m not as close to people as I thought. But I still don’t understand how anyone could keep quiet when someone is visibly not okay. Even whilst being in the worst state ever, I try to reach out to people who need support. I’m getting a bit of a complex now though. Because anytime I do that, it’s either dismissed or completely ignored, as though I said nothing. Even people disappearing… going offline, leaving me thinking it’s something I said…. not only do I feel invisible, like I never said anything, but I feel that it’s not appreciated, and actually not wanted. It’s a rejection. And it hurts to be honest. I don’t have a problem with anyone at the moment. But I am finding myself in the situation I was in last year with my paranoia and anxiety, and I can’t take it anymore… not at the moment.

So I need to distance myself from everyone. Don’t reach out for help. Don’t reach out and help others, because I’ll be rejected. Basically I don’t want to do anything where I could get rejected anymore. I’m not going to. Let’s put it that way. I have to protect myself. It means being alone. But I am alone anyway!

No more ‘attention-seeking’ online, fishing for care. No more chit-chat. No more advice / care from me. I’m sorry that means not being there for others… but I feel it’s not appreciated anyway – people tend to have lots of others offering them support anyway, not like me. So hopefully everyone will be okay without me.

My paranoia makes me feel physically sick. I’m aware that people on my profile do not deserve to be casualties of my mental illness. I’m not sure that I can recover from this illness now. I feel that this paranoia can never go away. I will never trust anyone. I will never like myself again. I will never believe that anybody truly cares. I will always feel people are out to get me and hurt me. I can’t see a way past that now.

It’s like my former best friend probably thought she could push me to the back of the shelf and bring me out again later, when she’s less stressed and I’m ‘better’. But this is flawed thinking, because how anyone can expect someone to recover when they’ve just lost everything and everyone, in very traumatic and violent ways… and to have to do that recovery whilst totally isolated – it’s insane. It’s never going to happen. How could she ever think I’d get better without her friendship? Yeah I ‘took a step back’ – or at least was going to, that was because she refused to make up her mind whether I was worth anything to her or not. It was to try and help my paranoia and preserve our friendship, but she didn’t give a fuck about that. She blocked me without a word. As you would expect, this increased my paranoia – as I didn’t understand such passive-aggressive behaviour… I didn’t know her motives. I assumed she never wanted to hear from me again. I still assume this. Everything surrounding the loss of her makes me feel sick. In fact life just makes me feel sick right now.

If by some miracle I recover from this intensely dark period of illness, I won’t want her back in my life – she walked away when I needed a friend the most. She left me with none. She saw the worst of me and turned away. I can’t just forget that. Likewise, how am I meant to forget the pain of nobody being there for me? How do you recover from a breakdown like this? How do I learn get over everything that has happened? Some would say you don’t ‘get over it’ you ‘learn to live with it’. But how can I possibly learn to live with everything the last year has shown me? How do I live without Liv? How do I live without my best friend and Godchildren? How can I ever be okay with myself when everyone abandoned me in the depths of my illness? How can I ever trust anyone to care about me enough to not leave me? I’ve seen a different world – one that isn’t safe. I can’t un-see that.

I feel so scarred by everything, I feel I can’t forgive anyone for their contributions to my state of mind right now. I feel upset and angry at a lot of people, and then guilty for feeling that way. That’s why I have to distance myself now. They don’t deserve it, and I’m not getting what I need from them anyway. So what’s the point if there’s only bitterness and resentment? Everything feels toxic now. Plus I’m analysing everything people say and don’t say…. nothing they do is good enough – that’s because the damage done is too massive…. I don’t believe it can be fixed. I don’t know what it would take to fix it all. To fix me. I feel I’m beyond help now. Yes I’m angry that people let me get to this point without intervening. They only had eighteen months to do so….. I was begging for the them to help me as I was going down a one-way track to hell. They all sat back and watched me drown. Now there’s no way back. It feels too late. I feel lost, powerless, hopeless.

I feel I will not recover. It feels like a fact. This is my life now. But there’s no sense bringing everyone else down with me. So I’m done with them all, as I’m done with myself. It’s better this way. For everyone. There was never any hope anyway… that they could save me…. not really. I’ll fade away quietly. Hopefully this way the rejection will stop. There’s nothing worse than silence, to a heart in pain and a mind in despair…

It’s just me now. Me and my blog.