Don'tCryDon'tCryDon'tCry, Don'tThinkDon'tThinkDon'tThink

It's been a few weeks since I've posted. Truth be told, I'm in a very deep depression at the moment, especially since the overdose incident. I'm barely functioning, getting through the days and precious little else.

I've missed so many appointments in the past two months. Two with the psychologist. One with the GP. With the dietician, I've seen her twice, missed four, and she's been away for two.

I'm not sleeping. The past four nights, I've slept about four hours each. Last night, I didn't sleep at all until a two-hour doze around 7am.

Mum keeps pushing me to do more and be more and move forward or move out. She doesn't even see the progress I've made recently. I've been off synthetics for nearly three months. My intake wasn't too terrible for a couple of months. But everyone thinks I'm making no progress. They all just get angry and tell me to move forward or leave them alone.

What more can I do? I'm so tired. No matter what you do in the life, you can never make others happy. That's one thing I'm slowly, and painfully, learning.

I'll never be good enough. I'll never meet everyone's expectations. I'll never be perfect and successful and happy and healthy.

Everything takes so much effort.

I want to sleep. I want to drink. I want to smoke. I want to OD. Yesterday I found myself eyeing the new box of laxatives. So tempting. What I wouldn't give for a few solid days of pain to stop the thoughts.

I'm losing hope. I'm scared to sleep. I wake up screaming from flashback nightmares. At the same time, I dread every waking hour. When sleep isn't an option, and neither is being awake, there's not exactly many other options.

“Today I felt like a ragdoll that has lost its stuffing.”
I saw my GP the week before last. Mum was away staying with friends for a few days, so my brother worked from home for the day so he could drive me in. Most of it was just going over the overdose, but she's really pushing me to get back to see the new psychologist. After the initial meeting, I ended up cancelling both of the appointment we had planed because it's just so far away, and especially until mum can drive again, I just couldn't do it.

Needless to say, my GP wasn't too happy.
  “I do have some rules, and both myself and the dietician could use the support.”
  “She needs to be part of the team.”
  “...and you did tell the mental health team in hospital that you were seeing a psychologist...”
Looks like my little white lie got back to her.

Between her insistence that I see someone who I really don't want to, and the fact mum told me the other day that she won't be driving me to appointments for much longer, I'm so close to just saying goodbye and going back to my bubble. Mum has always been the whole reason I started, and kept, seeing people to help with my mental health. Ever since I was 12, I've gone because I felt like I had no choice. When she started withdrawing support over the past year or so, I've started wondering why the hell I'm still doing it.

I don't want to talk to a psych. I don't make any progress with the dietician anymore – honestly, she's more like a therapist. I don't want people invading anymore. I don't want treatment or help or to move forward. I just want my GP and dietician to hold my hand and support me to try to keep things at the status quo.


Mum had more surgery last week. One of the wires in her elbow didn't hold, and the whole thing was just a mess. So she was in hospital for another two days while they fixed it up. The major impact on me I that it means another 6+ weeks before she can drive. I've already missed so many appointments because catching Uber, or even taxis, is so hard.

“I want to hide, from people, and life, and uncertainty.”
This week, I had been planning of ordering the last of the furnishings I need to set up my new sewing room and getting it all set up. But now I have some kind of infection building, and it's really kicking my ass, for nearly a week now. It started as a lump on the back of my ear (which I'm assuming is the lymph node). It gets bigger by the day, and a few days ago, I noticed the lymph at the base of my jaw is swelling too. Then, it hit my new navel piercing, which is now a mess.

Last night, the skin on the back of my ear started to break open. It's that swollen. For the past couple of days I've had a fever, chills, sweats, nausea – all that infection-y stuff. I'm seeing my GP tomorrow, but I just feel so run down.

A random little design I came up with

xxBella