Why is sadness just so inevitable? I can be talking to someone, even managing to take my mind off of everything but still, there is no happiness, just sadness. I don’t want to be here anymore. It isn’t even my mum or the voices or ANYTHING; I can cope with that. It is that happiness is impervious to me. Everything could be going fine but it still isn’t worth it. I don’t want to be here, I am tired.
why do you keep telling em to call her? she cant answer and i don’t like her. things on my wall, voices telling me to. idk why they are tlaking about. i’m upset
I’m really exhausted. I don’t want to get out of bed. All I want is to sleep. I’m aching, I’m stressed, I just need a break; I need to sleep.
I have come to realise that I have lost my mum - my one confidant. We will never again have the same relationship as we used to have, even if she does get better.
Kate has gone. We didn’t get on but I lookked after her. Why did she die? It isn’t fair, it should have been me. She was happy, I was not. I don’t midss you Kate, but there are tiimies where I knda wish you were here. Maybe if you were here to look after mum for a bit, mayeybe then I could sleep. I don’t think I deserve a break though, not after what I did that summer. Do you know what I did now? I never tolc y=ou. I didn’t want you to hate me, I wanted you to love me and carry on viewing me as your protector. Do you lstill ove me now you know everything I have done? No one can love me, I am disgusting. I’m just a pathetic little lifeform living behind a facade of a strong, caring person. People shouldn’t even touch me, I might filthy them. I am rotten, I can feel it inside my veins. I keep calling the doctor and asking if that is a sign of anything and they say it is just paranoia, but they don’t understand, I am rotting inside, I can feel it. It must be some sort of disease? Poison?
I am always going to be unnoticed. No one will ever know me, will they? The only emotion anyone can ever feel towards me - the reeal me - is…idk…whatever dad felt. Well go on dad, fiddle with me all you want because I am dead already, it wont upset me, it didn’t then. That’s not normal is it? For a 6 year old to think nothingg of abuse. peop;le say I just didn’t underrstand but no, I didn’nt give a fuck, I know that.
Daad, Edward, hell eben chris, i bet none of you expected it to have not worked. Yu still only got those fake fakke fuckcing walls! Maybe there is nothing undersneath, maybe i am really deadd already.
Bye kate, bye mum, bye friends. I’m alone now, like i should be.
I don’t want to get out of bed. I don’t want to fucking face and deal with all of this. Yesterday was okay cause I drank myself through it but that isn’t even helping today. I want to fucking sleep and never wake up, I am so lethargic, tired and apathetic. I don’t want to see her face and have to see her upset, I don’t want to have to mother her AGAIN. SHE is the mother, not fucking me! I actually have exams now - important ones - and I haven’t revised one fucking bit! I am going to fail…I can just see how pathetic my results are going to be. I was meant to get straight A*s!!
But then again, GCSEs aren’t as important as making sure my mother doesn’t slit her wrists again! I don’t want this mess of a woman, I want my old mum back.
Hearing things again. Hearing LOTS of things, wont be long until I see stuff. I am actually fucking PLEASED. I am actually pleased because I now have those old voices to keep me company now. I may have lost my mum - the ONE person I could ever even SLIGHTLY open up to or show weakness in front of - to whatever monster she has become right now, but I have fucking schizophrenia to comfort me.
It is pathetic how I am ranting here as if this blog is actually a confidant! It isn’t as if anyone even reads it (not that I want them to haha). Fuck, really have to stop talking to myself….I want my mum back.
Warning: serious trigger! DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE TRIGGERED EASILY (not that anyone reads this)
Wake up Saturday morning, wonder into my mum’s bathroom and find her with slit wrists lying in a bath of bloody water. I knew this was coming. I just KNEW it. The past few weeks of happiness on her behalf were clearly the calm before the storm. I could see she was going to be okay; cuts weren’t deep and she was conscious (although not making much sense). I called the ambulance immediately and spoke calmly (of course I was calm, I was expecting this). I went along in the amulance, speaking comforting words in a voice that is much too emotionless - all of the medical staff were looking at me oddly; they either thought I was in shock or I was heartless. I’m not; this is the person I love more than anything in the world.
When I spoke to her she said; ‘just a cry for help’ and that she ‘would never leave me like that’. It wasn’t a cry for help; she has been offered help of every form and refused. I didn’t stay the night. I came home and my grandma is over trying to ‘look after me’. Am I actually a child? Haven’t I been handling my mum all alone for fucking months now?
I was so angry. How could she be that selfish?! She knowsI had been through the same stuff as her. She knowsthere were ways she could get help. She knows if it had been me who had died and Kate who survived, she wouldn’t be letting her handle all this shit! She still has another daughter; she still has me who has ALWAYS loved her and always been so good to her. She still has stuff to be sane for.
Then, of course, I felt awful. This is the brilliant mother who looked after Kate and I through SO many hard times. She put herself out for us 100%. Supported us 100%. She was amazing and so lovely. I should stick with her through this hard time and put up with this.
But I have to deal with all of this too! I have things to sort out. I just want her back, she was the ONE person I trusted and could talk to and who knew me. Now she is taken away and replaced by another mess.
Oddly, I didn’t think I would be complaining about school on this blog but it is 1.03 am and here I am! I haven’t been to school in a week because I was ill. I keep missing more and more school and I hate myself for it. I just cannot face it but I don’t know why! I don’t find it hard; the people are nice; it isn’t far away, yet i panic! I just feel sick and suffocated. When I get home after being in, I am a different person: one who I have no control over. I am impulsive, negative, irrational, emotional. So, I opt for not attending. Of course, this is a worry as I - or my mum - could get into trouble. Not to mention I am risking my 6th form place. University was always a definite for me and my school are expecting me to get a scholarship. Now I do not want to go to 6th form???! It doesn’t add up! I doubt I will go in tomorrow and I have friends counting on me. Sorry to let you down again, sorry that I can’t cope with everyday obselete tasks.
I have never written a blog, diary or anything of the sort but my psychiatrist suggested it. I seriously doubt that anyone will read this but at least I will have somewhere to rant. My entries will probably be about caring for my mum, my friends with illnesses, apathy and schizophrenia. I am not going to write an entry today but I thought I would make the blog anyway.
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