Broken mind

I like how people wonder why I don’t talk about my problems. Why I don’t confined in them. Or talk to them about how I’m struggling. 

Because every time I go to someone about a problem I’m asked if it might be all in my head or told that it is just in my head. However just telling me it’s in my head and shouldn’t worry about it doesn’t help at all. It makes it worse. I already know a lot of things are all in my head but it doesn’t make it unreal for me. Because it is real for me. And I have to deal with it on my own. If I think someone hates me or is out to get me, i will. Infact you telling me it’s in my head makes it worse. It makes me think that they’re really good at hiding it. And then I start worrying that others may be in on it too. Or I will simply feel crazy.

I can’t express enough to them how bad my pranoia can get. It makes me hide in my room. And I get very on edge and jumpy. To the point where a fly or bee buzzing against my window will make me check that no ones at my window. Or that no one is hiding in my room. 

I go through the mantra ‘it’s just in my head  and it’s not really happening’ but it doesn’t always work. 

But it’d be nice to have some support from my family about my paranoia, it just doesn’t happen sadly.

Anger and sadness

I’m still very angry and very depressed. The depression is heavyier than the anger at the moment. 

I don’t want to talk to my friends or family. Mostly because I don’t trust them, and they can say “you can trust me” all they like, it’s not going to change things. Thanks to my mind, I find it hard to trust, and my thoughts and voices swirl around day and night. It drives me up the walls some times. 

I just really dislike everyone at the moment and it’s best to stay away from me when I’m like this. Because I tend to self destruct really well. 

Most people already don’t like me so there’s not many people left that do like me, so I really should be careful. However I can’t help but think ‘fuck it’ let them hate me too. 

It’s also taking everything in me not to go out and buy a load of food and stuff my face, and then throw it all up. Because it usually makes me feel better…

My ocean 

My life is blue and black 

I want it pink and white 

The sparkle in my eye has gone 

 It’s long gone 

It’s too far to be saved 

But what about yours

You were supposed to reignite my spark 

But I’m still dull

Should I stop waiting?

Because it’s fading fast

It’s as blue as the pills I take 

It’s okay, I won’t wait. I’ll be more blue than the sea  

What happened?

Last Friday night was fun, it ended badly. But other than the guy who ruined it at the end, it was good. 

In the club he was all over me. It was okay at first. Then when we left he was leading me somewhere. I was also rather drunk, so it took me a while to process where he was taking me. Once I realised I said I was going to go home, which he then replied with “nah it’s okay come with me” 

And every time I said no he’d tell me to shush and that I should ‘calm down’. His grip on my arm would get tighter and tighter the more I struggled. And by this point we were the only people around, and I felt scared. We were the only two people down a road with houses that had all the lights off. It was my mess and I had to get myself out of it. I’m not sure how but eventually I managed to get him off of me and I ran. I just ran and ran. Then I just walked for ages. I had no idea where I was going but what I knew is that I wanted to get as far away from him as possible. 

I ran home and cried. I got home at around 8:30am. Later that day my mum asked if anything bad had happened, if I was okay. 

I lied like I usually do and said everything was fine. And nothing bad happened.

I am sad and lonely

My moods are usually always low. But there are these moments where I can be extremely sad. And I cry, and the pain and the sadness gets too overwhelming. And I don’t know what to do. 

Sometimes I’ll try reaching out to people but it never goes well. It always goes wrong. Some times I even lose a friend. 

And I feel so fucking lonely id say it’s unreal, but it is. It’s very real because that’s how I feel. 

I can’t even talk about it in therapy.

I am trying, to make things better. To try to be happy. To be better. So far it’s been nothing but failed attempts. 

Did I mention I was sad and lonely? 

For You poem

I sit here And think of you 

I hear that song 

And I think of you 

Everyday that passes 

I think of you 

That’s the problem with love 

It doesn’t ever fully leave 

I’ve come to realise that I’ll always think of you 

It’s as if my heart has reserved a permanent place for you 

But the love isn’t returned 

You do not love me back 

Now I have to live with this unrequited love 

And it hurts

She’s far from okay 

This week has been so fucked up.

I have a friend who lives in America, and she doesn’t have any friends where she lives. So when someone texted her being friendly and showed her attention, she was happy. In that moment she had finally found someone to love who she thought loved her back. I wish it went differently. I wish he had been who he said he was. I wish I’d done more to stop her going to meet him. She’s only 17 years old, and her life has already gone so wrong. 

He’d convinced her to meet him at an abandoned building, because it would be more ‘private’. Well, he wasn’t who she thought he was. And he wasn’t alone. 

This isn’t a made up story, this is her reality. She walked into that building to meet him feeling those first date nerves you feel. One of them hit her on the head, when she woke up she was tied up. They then raped her. All 3 of them. And it didn’t stop there. It didn’t stop when the police came, it didn’t stop when she got home. He continued to text her and black mail her into not telling the police again. Then a few days later they broke into her home. And they raped her again. And they hurt her. They hurt her really fucking bad. Physically and mentally. 

Before they got into the house she texted me, telling me what was going on, and how scared she was. Then an hour later I received this message  

I wasn’t even the one being hurt and I was scared. It felt like hours before I got myself together enough to talk to a friend who also knows her and lives in America. I told him everything I knew and all the information she’d told me. 

She’s now in hospital and the 3 men have been arseted. She’s fucked up but she’s safe and in hospital. 

It’s been giving me nightmares and I can’t get what happened out of my head. Yet it wasn’t me that they raped, it wasn’t me that was tied up. It wasn’t me they tortured. I don’t know what’s going to happen now, it still makes me feel sick to think about what has happened to her. 

Today reality hit me

Today my best friend asked me how I was doing. And after a catch up she asked me what I would do after my last therapy session, which ends in July. And it hit me, I have no idea. 

I am honestly scared. For the past year and a half I have been told not to work and to concentrate on therapy and getting ‘better’ 

But for the first time I’ve realised that I’m no where near stable enough to do the things that other people do on a daily basis. I can’t exspress how scared I am. I’m in and out of hospital and am in therapy most of my time at the moment. And I am only 21. I read Facebook posts about people I went to school with who have their life on track. They have jobs and are even saving up to buy a house. And here I am, recently having tried to kill myself, and can barely keep myself out of hospital alive. 

Fuck. 

If you love me you’d send me nudes

I have a friend (let’s have you all know him as Ash) who this year as really been there for me. And also unlike most knows how to calm me when I’m going through one of my ‘episodes’. He doesn’t judge and has a very close family member who has depression. So he tends to see through most of the lies I tell when I’m trying to cover up how I feel and what’s really going on in my head. 

Yet another friend of mine who used to be friends with him is constantly telling me how “he’s a back stabber” and pretty much a really shit friend and lies all the time to get what he wants. 

Yet where was he when I needed him? He was no where to be found. He was also the one who black mailed me when I was 14 years old for pictures of me in my underwear. And then when I sent him them he then wanted nudes. How ever I couldn’t go that far. This was also when my eating disorder made a lovely appearance in my life. I would talk to him because I like most teens, Had thought I’d found love and that he was wonderful. 

He was far from wonderful. He’s one of those people that when you say you’re depressed or feeling really low will turn around and say “stay positive… go for a walk? Find a hobby?” Well fuckaroo Jacob, I didn’t think of that! I’ve just been for a walk Jacob and I feel better already. 

No Jacob if it worked like that then I wouldn’t be fucking depressed. I try not to be bitter about how he doesn’t understand what depression is. In a way it’s kind of good. He’s lived a life where he hasn’t felt depressed or had any mental health problems. Or even a loved close one that’s going/been through it. 

Back to what he did to me when I was 14… 

so after I didn’t give him the pictures he so desperately needed. In order to show him that I truly loved him, he would need these photos by the end of the year. 

A few days pass and I’ve pretty much starved my way through December and I haven’t sent him nudes. I wake up to a message from him on Facebook on New Year’s Eve. He pretty much said he can’t wait around for me any longer, he needs to move on because it’s too hard for him. And that if I really loved him I’d of sent him nudes by now. 

Now my 14 year olds ass thought the world was crashing down. But little did I know the worst was yet to come. YAY FOR ME, because I just love a surprise. 

I log on to Facebook to see he had been posting a few statuses about me. Sadly they were not about how heart broken he was. Nopeee. He called be a crazy physco ex. I had threatened to kill myself if he didn’t stay with me. So him being a gent stayed with me. Just so I didn’t kill myself. To make it worse he’d screen shot a conversation where I JOKINGLY said that if my day got any worse I’d kill myself with a spoon. He’d twisted everything I said. He started telling everyone I was a slut. And that I should stop stalking him. I then had random girls message me, telling he to back the fuck away. To leave poor Jacob alone. How what I did was fucked up and I shouldn’t be such a slut. The only thing I’d done was sent him a few pictures of me in my underwear. I hadn’t even held a boys hand. But I was slut shamed and made to feel crazy. 

I basically cried my way through the new year until March. It doesn’t end there. He messaged me saying he was sorry. I stupidly forgave him. However we basically went round a roundabout and the whole thing happened again. Except he didn’t make nasty posts about it.

We are now just on and off friends. It’s not much of a friendship, I will never trust him and I will never forget what he done. But I will still make small talk with the prick. Mostly because I pitty the fool.