Slipped Up

I knew it was too much of a good thing to think i'd never hurt myself again.

I guess the only positive is that i'm restricted as to where i can do it.

Why?! Why did i have to do it? I was doing ok, i was doing good for me. It'd be nearly 3 weeks. 3 weeks free of SI. No fresh scars. No i've fucked up. Back to square one. Back to being a fucking failure again.

I think i have a doctors appointment tomorrow but i've lost my appointment card so who fucking knows. There's nothing they can do anyway. Upping the trazadone will jus zombify me. Though maybe that isn't the worst of things. I don't want to be concious. Cos if i'm concious i'm thinking. If i'm concious i'm feeling. If i'm concious i'm hurting. I just want somthing to knock me out. Something to numb these stupid fucking feelings that have taken over my mind.

I feel bad for him. This is what he has to come home to. Why can't i be the person i was when we first met? This isn't fair on him. He has to keep picking up the sodding pices from my fallout. I'm a selfish bitch for letting him do that. I want him to be happy. Really happy.

I don't know if i can make him happy anymore.

I know i keep saying it, but i can't stop myself thinking of how i'd be better off dead. You're probably thinking stop going on about it and do something about it. But i can't. I have to be certain. If i try and kill myself again, i will succeed. That's why i have to be 110% certain. Cos i've had my second chance and i won't get another. Its like i have to keep killing myself as a last resort. For when there is no future. For when i'm certain i will never get better and be normal. For when everyone else has given up on me.

I Hit Rock Bottom..Again

Angry.PissedOff.Insane.Depressed.Pathetic.Annoyed. Anxious.Guilty.Crazy.Sad.
Hateful.Despicable.Unworthy.Lost.Confused.Hurt.Psy chotic.Destructive.Usless.

I am all of those things, and probably more.

My life is officially out of my control. Gone. Kaput. I don't know what to do anymore. Everything i do goes wrong. Everything i touch turns to shit. Anyone i get close to, i fuck up.

I need a reason. Give me a reason to live. Because right now i am not living i am merely existing. And its a pitiful existance at that. I have depression and borerline personality disorder. I'm not well enoigh to work. I was late sending of a sick note because like the selfish self centered bitch i am i tried to OD. Correction did OD. And nearly died. About a week ago i was grateful for the fact i'm still here, noow i regret it. Aside from the fact i should never have been born, i should have died. They should have let me die. But they didn't and i'm still here. Which brings me back to work. Cos of all that shit they've decided to put me down as a "leaver" so i now apparently no lonbger work for fucking William Hill. And they don't have to fucking pay me sick pay.

How very fucking convinient you complete fucking bastards. If you were trying to ruin my life CONGRATUFUCKINGLATIONS you've succeeded. have a fucking medal. I now have no money. And bacause you're claiming i "left" i won't beentitled to any fucking benefits either. So now i can't afford my rent. And now i can't afford to live.

So tell me again, what is the point? If i can't afford to live then i have no right to be on this earth. All i ever do is fuck up.

Hello world. My name is Beki. And i'm a FUCK UP.

My life is worth shit. There are people out there who deserve to live more than me. I should be dead. My corpse should be rotting in a grave where i belong. I don't belong here amongst the living. Life is for good people, who do good things, who make poeple happy, who deseve to be here. I DO NOT deserve to live. And if a bus hits me tomorrow then so fucking be it.

I'm a train wreck when it comes to people i care about. I mess them up. I posion them I fuck up ntheir lives bit by fucking bit. No-one should be around me. If they won't kill me the best thing they can do is lock me away, far away from any other living person so i can't screw up anyone else whilst i'm on a one way ticket to hell and my own deserved destruction.

This isn't a suicide note. I'm not going to kill myself. I'm going toi leave that up to God. Can you hear me God? Its me, the girl whose life is fucked up. Don't suppose YOU had anything to do with that did You? If You did, do the right thing and let me die some other way. Its the least You can do. Make things right again. Make everyone happy again. Please. That's all i want.

I am beyond help. But those i love aren't. They can be saved. You can save them. Take me. Sacrifice me, and let them live long happy lives. Please. I am fucking begging you. If you can hear me, then help me. Take me and lets make this right. Look after them. I can't. I tried and i failed. Help them, please.

I'll stop writing now. I think my head may explode. There's too much for me to cope with right now. Im sorry

A show of envy is an insult to oneself

Don't know why i chose that particular quote...

Today's subject is envy. I'm envious of everyone who is Download Festival. I'm envious that they could afford to go. I'm envious that they are well enough to work. I'm envious that they, unlike me aren't messed up in the head.

I shouldn't care, but for some reason its really really getting to me. Instead of being at a festival I'm at home in bed (hiding from my bf's landlord). I should be out there, not in here.

Oh and the paranoia is back with a vengence. Mainly against any female with a pulse who knows my bf. I've had it before, the pananoia that eats away at me, the scenarios my head creates and plays back to me over and over again. There's a new female, don't know how she knows him, but she's getting to close. Or at least that's what my crazy ol' head is telling me.

I think my mind is still adujusting to the lowered dosage of Ciatalopram. Still have low mood. Still have no appitite. Still feeling tearful. Still want to self harm. I keep telling myself i only have to get through till wednesday (next appoinment with doctor) but it seems so far away.

Guess i'll just have to carry on distracting myself

The Blood Flows As She Cries

I couldn't give up the self harm after all.

In total about 30+ times

Its like something else takes over. I become frenzied. It's like its not me, its someone else. Over and over again till i bleed.

And then it starts again.

Always in multiples of 3. Don't know why. I'm not OCD but maybe the part of my brain that does this is.

More scars.

And once again i have to gide behind long sleeves and lies.

Welcome...

So this is the first blog entry.

I guess a history lesson might be in order. I'm 22. Female. And right now I'm off sick from my job. The reason? Well, i have severe depression. I'm also prone to self harm and a chronic need to want to kill myself. Great way to break the ice, no?

Anyway, I've been like this for half my life, so technically most of my life. It started way way back in secondary school. I was bullied from age 11 to 16 (what can I say-I must have been a good victim), and remember first being depressed around age 11. The self harm (or if you prefer-self mutilation-but I don't so I won't be using that again) started around age 12 and I first attempted suicide aged 16. By the oh-so-classy and so orginal method of overdoing on painkillers.

Moving onto now, I went to University..I graduated from University (a 2:2, not bad for a girl with untreated chronic depression). And I got a job. It was going ok but then I had *drumroll please* a nervous breakdown back in February and I've been off sick ever since.

So that brings you up to speed with me!

I figure this would also be a handy place to blog about my expereinces with meds and of course the mental health service.

So enjoy!