My spot on a hill

Like most, I have a favourite spot. A place I can go to for quite. A place where I can be me and alone. 

I found it when I was 14 and have loved it since. I don’t take people here. Only once have I ever and that was my sister Lay. And I will never again take someone there. I don’t want anything less than nice tainting my favourite place on Earth. 

It is now also her favourite place too.

A lot of shit has happened to me, but I’m forever greatful for finding this spot. It’s true what they say I guess, it’s the little things in life. 

A toilets best friend

I lasted 30minuets 

30 mins of pushing away the urge to make myself sick, I tried to burry the thoughts swimming in my head. But they kept resurfacing. 

You can’t keep this food in you, you need to throw it up… bla bla bla 

It never ends. Even once I’ve thrown it all up, and I’m empty inside, It still calls me. 

I hope one day it’ll end. It was 29 min longer than the last time.

Get a drink because this is a long one 

In group therapy we got onto the topic of sex and pregnancy. One of the girls thought she may be pregnant, and after 10 min of talking about these topics it came around to me. I was asked how I felt about this subject. It’s a subject I hate talking about, but will. Because every time I talk about it I start to shake and almost cry. 

When I was 18 my eating disorder was at its worst, but it was also still a secret. So my periods stopped and me being slightly stupid also assumed I just wouldn’t be able to get pregnant. Low and behold I got pregnant. I told none of my family and very few friends. In the end we both decided (I and my boyfriend) to have an abortion. I had my reasons and he supported the decision. It was hard to go through and I cried daily for months. To say I felt like scummy shit would be an massive understatement. 

Skip a year ahead. I’m still with the same man after almost 2 years. We both have good jobs, a house and are pretty stable and enjoying life. Just before I went to visit my family in London for a weekend we found out I was pregnant. After the shock I was rather happy. It wasn’t planned, but we decided to keep him or her. I was going to be a mum. And I was going to try my hardest to not let that child go through what I had. 

After my lovely weekend of fun and family I was running to catch the coach home, except I didn’t run fast enough and missed it. I called Jay (let’s call him that shall we) and was explaining how sorry I was for missing the coach but I’d get the next one in an hour. He told me not to bother 

…what? Why not? It’s okay Jay I’m only an hour behind, I’m really sorry I missed it 

Just don’t bother coming home, stay with your mum for a few weeks. 

We argued like that for a few min till I eventually burst into tears, my best friend was with me and I will be greatful always for her friendship and support. He told me he wasn’t sure he loved me anymore. I couldn’t work out what had gone wrong. What I’d done wrong. I had trusted him, I’d loved him, I’d tried my hardest to be who he wanted me to be. He was old fashioned, I did all the ‘house chores’ and if he wanted sex I gave him sex. If he wanted food I gave him food. But I did it because I loved him. I put up with his shit because I loved him. 

However he then abused my trust. There was girl named Harriet. She was also in a relationship, but apparently he was a ‘shit’ boyfriend (I personally think Jay needs to look in the mirror) so he spent a lot of time with her. And I honestly thought nothing of it. That they were just friends and he simply wanted to be a nice friend. 

[Back to me standing with my friend crying my eyes out at Victoria coach station] I hung up the phone and told her everything. It’d started dawning on me, that it was Harriet, he was leaving me for Harriet. I was heart broken and furious. I called work and explained how I had been kicked out of my own home by my boyfriend and was stuck in London. And they were helpful and   Understanding about it. I went home to my sisters because I couldn’t face my mum and E. I only told her that I’d missed my coach home. After crying some more I relasised I was going to be a single mum. I didn’t think I’d be able to go through a second abortion. And I thought that maybe I didn’t try hard enough the first time. That maybe I could’ve done it, I could’ve raised a child then and that I should make it work for this one. 

After a few days it slowly came out what was happening. They’d hear the arguments over the phone. The crying, the screaming and all he could say was ‘I don’t love you anymore’ that I wasn’t wanted back in our home, or even in Wales. That I should stay in London and stay away from him and his family until the baby is born and then he’d see him/her when he could/wanted. 

He also told me he’d break my legs if I took our cats with me and hurled abusive threats at me for weeks over minor things.

After I moved my things from the house she moved in, at one point she’d said ‘that crazy bitch is gone at last’ 

When my family found out about the pregnancy it didn’t go down well at all. Especially when they found out I was keeping the baby. I came home one day and walked into what’s pretty much known as an intervention. It was a pretty shit moment when I realised not one family member other than my sister Victoria was there for me. Not even my mum or dad. At one point her partner E offered me £10,000 to have an abortion. So you can see after weeks of hearing all this from my own family that my mind began to change. I thought they’re right I can’t do it, and it’d be unfair on the baby. By this point I’d told them about the first abortion. I’d broke down again and told them how I couldn’t go through with a second. 

But that was my own fault for getting into this situation apparently. And I started to believe it. So after cancelling my midwife appointment I booked an appointment to have an abortion… again. They did a scan and I was asked if I wanted to see him or her. I said no but stupidly peeked anyway. I was 11 weeks and 5 days. It was done on the 24th November 2014. 

I woke up after it was all over and cried. My mum and sister then took me out for dinner as a small celebration. I of course was sickened by the idea. I cried for months. And I hate myself for the whole thing. It’s on my list of reasons why I hate me.  

A for Acting

Nothing maters to me any more. Yet at the same time it does. I’m dangerously low in mood. And I can’t seem to ask for help. But at the same time I don’t want to. Then again, I want someone to notice how much I am hurting, and no one does. Because I am too good at hiding it. I really am sorry. I’ve destroyed myself, I have lived up to my reputation. The reputation I hate. 

I am lost, maybe forever 

I really don’t know what to do with myself anymore. 

I’m trying my hardest to love myself or to at least like myself but it’s not working. I can’t express just how much I hate myself. 

And everyday I come close to ending my life, and every time I don’t. I want to die because I’m unhappy but I know killing myself will upset people. So do I live my life being unhappy to keep others happy? Or do I get it over with and upset the ones who love me?

Another thing I do is, I purposely sabotage the good things in my life because I convince myself I deserve nothing and no one. 

Or maybe no one deserves the burden of even knowing me.

Even people who said they loved me a few weeks ago have cut contact with me. 

I saw my nan yesterday who said “can I get you anything? A drink? Food? … a job?” I had never felt so embarrassed. I’m told by my doctors not to get a job because I’m not stable enough. And I listen because I know they’re right. 

I need help I know, but help isn’t working and things really aren’t improving over time. In fact they love gotten slightly worse. 

It’s as if just one too many people hate me. 

There is hope yet 

Today I have woken up hopeful. Maybe I can find happiness. Maybe I can accept that I will hardly have any friends. I am not a popular person. But does that make me a bad person? Some days I’ll answer yes to that question and some days I’ll think to myself  ‘I must be a bad horrible cow, because no one likes me.’ But today I don’t think that’s true. If the ‘friends’ I thought I had have left me over small things, such as not having sex with them or not saying yes to being their girlfriend, maybe they were never worth my time. 

It’s just a shame that days where I think and feel like this don’t last or come around often. 

I know I’m going to live my life with this mental disorder, but I don’t know a life without it. So I have no idea what I’m missing out on. 

I will wake up every morning fighting the thoughts and voices in my head, most likely till the day I die. But till I die I need to find something that’ll keep me going. 

Something to fuel my hope. 


Okay I’m still alive, I didn’t cut deep enough. I now however have to cover up my arm and hope the bleeding doesn’t keep seeping through my home made bandage. 

Part of me is glad it didn’t work, because I get to see my little brother today, whom I love him so much. And then the other part of me isn’t glad I’m still here. Part of me thinks I’m that pathetic I can’t even kill myself. 

How do I fail so much at life. 

I tried my best. But it wasn’t enough

Tonight is the night. 

I tried to say good bye to those I could, discreetely, with out them realising it was good bye. No one saw me. Everyone was too busy. I’m not angry at them about it, everyone is busy with their own lives. And I am not part of their life. I did get to see my older sister Victoria for the last time though. I am greatful to her, for being there for me when she could whilst I was little 

I’m a part of no ones life. I have reached the end. I’m going to have a drink, then off I go to the park. And I will bleed to death. 

I’m sorry to those I love who don’t love me back. And I’m sorry to A, because I let you down. I wasn’t who he wanted me to be. I wasn’t who anyone wanted me to be, so for that I am sorry. 

I tried to be a better me. I tried to be the true me, but still I felt unloved. So I will do what needs to be done. I truly believe everyone is better off without me in the long run. 

I am sorry, everyone hates me. I tried to fix it, but it didn’t work. Maybe I was too late or my best wasn’t good enough? Either way it doesn’t matter now. I am sorry.

Killing yourself

I killed my self the way you shouldn’t 
I killed myself the way others say you shouldn’t 

But I killed myself the way I thought I should 

My light has faded, faded too much to be saved

I am already a ghost 

I killed the best part of me 

The part that laughs 

The part that sings with joy 

The part that smiles through her eyes

I look to you 

I am gone, as quickly as it came 

If I say jump, I jump 

So I jump