Feel good.

Listening to new music on Spotify, currently listening to SebastiAn (French electro). And I went out with mum to get her TV fixed. So yeah, cooolio!

Fuck it, I'm eating porridge.

So I forgot to mention the other day...

when I saw my CC, I was quite distressed. And anyway, while she was talking to me I heard a door slam outside almost like someone was angry, and I suddenly thought 'They're angry at me'.

Now, I know that is impossible - how could someone slam the door because of me when I've been in the same room with someone else for the past half an hour? But I felt so guilty and ashamed almost, that I had caused that door to be slammed like that. Mad, right?

I still feel hungry.

Why is that? I've eaten today already and yet...I wanna eat more. Greedy cow.

Ugh here we go again, I swear this negative part of me is becoming louder and is so harsh.

Bitch. I want you to fuck off.

I don't understand what it is. Is it me? Is it someone else? I think it's me, but in a split sense. I won't say split personality because I don't believe that is me, but it's certainly and definitely something.

And I weighed myself today at those scales you find in chemists - 14st 4lbs / 90.7kg. When I was in hospital in Luton this year I was 77kg. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck.

I'm angry and fine at the same time.

My mood is brighter. Perhaps a 5.5. I'm on a mental health forum trying to help people and I feel kinda happy. Happy that I'm at least trying to give support But angry at the same time. Angry that life is throwing shit at everyone, and angry that for once I feel positive about myself and what I'm doing, and yet I can't hold onto this feeling when I need it most.

I am a good person, surely? I can see the best in people. I am willing to help when someone is broken and needs that bit of hope. So why can I not be that strong person when I'm feeling down and depressed? Why do I criticise myself and put myself down when I feel I don't deserve it?

I am a good person. Good. I have to believe it.

I feel a bit better.

Bit more positive.

I'm broken.

No-one understands, do they?

Not really.

I don't feel worth it.

I got an email today from the lecturer I spoke to yesterday saying I'm worth it. I don't believe so. I don't know. Even when I saw my CC this afternoon she said at the end that I was worth it.

Why can't I believe that?

I just want

someone to tell me what's wrong with me and to explain why. Maybe the why can never be explained and the what can only be guessed at. But give me something so I can begin to understand.

I am aware

that people can and do care for each other. But what I can't work out is if people care for me or are just doing what is morally right by keeping me alive and making me suffer.

Do people care? I hope so but I can't be sure. Why?

Why do I find it so hard to trust people to help me if I need it? Why don't I ever ask for help? Why?

Oh it's streaming down your face, you poor girl.

Am I nice? I don't know.

Take it this way - I am willing to help someone out of love. Compassion. Sympathy. Empathy. So I guess I am nice. But I can't bring myself to believe it.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

You gentle flower. Poor you. But really? Get a grip. Stupid bitch.

Oh my gosh you're so self-critical. Are you the most messed up person in the world? Not crazy enough to kill, but crazy enough to be weird? Be abnormal. I just want to be normal. Please. Please. Make it stop, oh my make it stop.

Make it stop. Oh the tears, the tears. Get a tissue you poor love.

Thank you. Be nice to me please. Don't breakdown, don't ever do that. You're a good person and I love you.

Thank you. Thank you.

Erase the mind and you will be fine.

Erase the mind and you will be fine.

You love me, thank you. Do you love me as a person?

Yes. No doubt.

Oh my! Thank you. Tears streaming down your face, you poor girl. How do you cope?

I don't. Fuck this eternal haywire. Streaming down your face, you poor girl. Aargh, you complete weirdo. But I love you. Right.

Don't make it sound superficial. Don't say it because you have to. Don't say it because you want to. Say it because you mean it.

Oh my. Please mean it. I beg. Do people have to beg for love? I hope not. How sad.

You're sad. And not in a derogatory sense (well done, you spelt that correctly on your first try. You're good at something. Yes!). You're crying and tearful and disturbed. Yes?

you're broken

You will never be alright, never be okay. You will forever live in downtrodden dismay and despair. You know it will happen. I'm sorry to say it but it's true.

Have they dried up? The tears? Good. Well done. Don't be a stupid bitch and start that all over again.

And again.

And

Again.

You're good at something.

You're good at crying and making people think "my goodness, what a worthless piece of crap she is, poor girl. Oh well."

Do people really care? Truly care? I can't decipher. I would hope so, but I just can't...take...it...any...more.

Breathe. And          relax.

Relax, two, three. Go back, correct that.

Correct it well. Correctly it right. Just correct it.

Streaming down your face it is, neverending. OH NO NEVERENDING! I feel so sorry for you, I truly do. Only I understand what it's like to feel pain.

But do you? No. I can only understand myself. Correct that, go back.

Go back, correct that.

I feel sorry for you. You could have had everything. But could you? Probably not. Oh my! You can't see through the tears. The tears OH THE TEARS


You're good at something. You're good at crying. Good at crying. Good at something.

Good at something. Good at crying.

Good at crying. Good at something.

Hey you're good at something, well done! I'm proud of you. Well done. Well done.

I. Am. Proud. Of. You.

Ever heard that? Maybe, a long time ago. Or maybe it's so foreign to you you never did recognise it when it was said. Someone shout out for help!

Dripping down your face is it? My poor girl. Go on, let it out. It's a good job you can type so fast.

So fast. You're good at something else.

And it's all lies. You're not nice. You're not kind. You're not good. You're not considerate. You're not helpful. You're crap at listening (but are you....). You're good at crying though. You're good at something Good at crying. I am so so sorry.

And so it begins

the tears again. My god you can't stop crying. You always cry. Even when you try, you try oh so hard to keep it in but then BAM it comes gushing out like a sorrowful waterfall.


I can't help it, you say, but hey I don't blame you. My god, you're having a conversation with yourself. Quick, grab the pills! Make it stop, make it better!


Will it ever be better? One would hope so. Go back, correct that.


Go back, correct everything.


My god, tears on your pillow, tears on your chest. Tears on your face and all the rest.

And yet

I like the fat you carry, so I can't hold that against you. I take that fucking thing back. But everything else, oh everything else is true.

Isn't it?

Can't deny it can you.

You can't even spell right. You had to go back and correct that last sentence.

And see look - you're such a perfectionist. Even when you rant about yourself you have to make sure every little thing is fucking PERFECT. YOU ARE NOT FUCKING PERFECT.

"Oh but there's no such thing as perfect" - well you're the least closest thing to perfect there is. Idiot.

Can't do this, can't do that.

The world is obsessed with material worth. There are people dying but then it's enevitable, isn't it.

Well fuck that, fucking bullshit piece of worthless crap you are.

"Oh but where has all this come from?" how the fuck am I supposed to know? All I know is you deserve it.

Oh, and if you're reading this back thinking "what the fuck was that all about? L-O-L" then fuck you. Actually F.U.C.K. Y.O.U.

Oh but my day was going so well - fuck you. Life isn't perfect. But then I have to ask myself, my stupid worthless self. You know what fuck this. Fuck everything.

WHERE'S THE PILLS FOR ME TO OVERDOSE FOR GOOD she says.

Where the fuck are they. *sigh* *sigh* *sigh*

I just need you to be quiet. Just for a bit please. Just be quiet. Ssh. That's it. Calm down. Take it easy. There, there.

What I would like

is for someone to shut down the negative aspect of myself. I honestly feel like I'm two almost different persons. One nice oh-so-fucking-shy person butter wouldn't fucking melt and then me. Even though that fucked up bitch is me. But the other part is poison. Fucking poison.

Btw I'm drowning here. Help would be appreciated.

Why me? Oh the whining, it returns!! WHY ME, why not you idiot. It's all your fault AND YET it actually isn't. Maybe I put this all on myself. It was my own fault I became depressed. Right?

Wrong. You can't will yourself to get depressed, stupid piece of shit. You know what annoys me the most about you? You're a fucking idiot. You can't talk to people, can't look them in the eye. "Oh but I'm so generous and considerate" considerate as fuck you are.

You're awkward, stupid, ugly, fat, idiotic, brainless, a failure and a shameful person. "What have I got to be ashamed about?" everything about you dumb fuck.

"Oh but why are you writing such hurtful things wahah" because you deserve it.