>Bit by bit metal illness has taken everything away, it takes my body, my friends, my family, my joy for life, everything. My body is truly fucked, inside and out, I am not sure what I have left any more. I look at what I have done to my body, I do not feel anything for my body any more, I used to feel great sadness for my body, now nothing.
Mental illness is cruel, so many people think I can just stop, decide to get better and it happens, what they don’t realise is there is only so long you can fight, there is only so long you can tackle the limbo between life and death. Then you become too tired, you give up and allow it to swallow you.
I have tried to kill myself so many times over the years, overdoses, cutting my wrists (not in a usual self harm way), lying in the middle of a busy road, walking down dark alley ways in the middle of the night hoping someone would murder me, starving. My biggest fear these days is that I will try again and fail again. That is one of the most horrible feelings, when you pluck up the courage, you do the deed and then you wake up in a hospital bed and someone tells you how lucky you are to be alive. All you can think is how much of a failure you are. I remember time after time being led in hospital, my Dad holding my hand, crying, begging me to never do it again, I remember my boyfriend at the time telling me how selfish I am and asking if I had did it to get at him. The truth is I am really selfish and I don’t think about anyone, only myself, I can’t bare to think about my family, I definitely never used to think of my boyfriend at the time. The only thoughts were for myself and the need to escape.
I am rambling now, I am going to hop in the bath, I haven’t had a wash or brushed my teeth or hair since Wednesday, the joys of depression. To top it off Bob has just vomited all over the back of the sofa, my day gets better and better.