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Often Found Lurking In Soup
by Lunar Sea

previous entry: Happier Things

next entry: Difficult Times

Need To Hold It Together


So, last night, while feeling not just like I'd quite fancy cutting my face off, but going and actually killing myself was generally preferable to carrying on as I am, I sent a text message to Luke.

"Hey. Didn't really know who else to go to right now. Am wanting to self harm really badly, and worse. Feel very out of control. I'm sorry. Please help."

Not getting a reply that night was crushing, though not entirely unexpected. It was 1.45am. He was probably asleep and ignoring any noises that come from his phone. Not hearing anything from him today, not at 1.15pm... I don't know. It's a slow, deep disappointment - a sense that maybe he actually wants me to do it. More than that, I feel like everyone knows. And they're mad at me. No, that's not what I fear. I fear they *despise* me. That it's met with a sneer, a curl of the lip, rolled eyes and a muttered hope that I just go and get on with it. 'Don't send a reply, maybe she'll be gone by the game, and we won't have to deal with her then.' Every time I say hello or good morning or anything to anyone I just get the overall vibe they want nothing to do with me.

Yesterday in the morning when Luke and I met for drinks I felt a little bit like I might actually, actually be able to believe he isn't just done with me. The others, well, entirely different situation, but one person - just *one*, that's all I wanted - one person didn't think I was complete and utter fucking scum who they just wish would go away.

I've got a one-to-one with my tutor later. I want to die. I want to cut. I want to quietly disappear, to never inflict myself on them again.

Meanwhile, even the actions I'm thinking about taking to try and avoid the situations that are making me worse I find impossible to tell if they're sensible measures or if it's just another kind of self-destruction. I feel completely blinded by it. I know I still need to be pulling together and working on my essay, despite the extension. I can't. I don't want to do anything. I want to hide.

There are conversations I need to have with people. Really, being realistic and upfront, I need to confront some people on these feelings, so as I can know whether to go to my mental health advisor with the complaint that my behaviour is driving people away, or that my paranoia is making me think people hate me. I need to know which this is. Am I acting in a way that makes them wish I wasn't here, or am I seeing things that aren't there. How the hell are you meant to tell?

But how are you meant to go up to someone and say, hey, have I been pissing you off lately? If the answer's yes, they're *not* going to tell you. You can't just say that sort of thing to someone. And it's not fair for me to put them in that position.

My idea to get around that was by the medium of email - send one, BCC'd, to the people who I've been feeling don't like me, and tell them if it's not the case, they can just reply and say something short like 'no, you idiot' or whatever. If it is the case, and they are angry, they can either not reply at all - which means they don't have to actively do anything - or reply explaining what parts of my behaviour have been causing problems.

I am clinging to the memory of being bollocked for walking off at the end of the last live. Even though it's connected to things that make me feel stupid and small, at least they cared enough to bollock me.
(Or they were inconvenienced enough by it.)

Must. Must. Must. Must. Must. Not. Self. Harm.

Now or never.

previous entry: Happier Things

next entry: Difficult Times

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