the only servicei ever trusted has let me down more than they will ever know.

Yesterday i endured 2 hours of a psyc assessment, in which time i was accused of lying about not recieving anyhelp. Clearly this pissed me off, as he didnt even have my notes.

he told me that the evening i was discharged-in fact he reassured me that HTT would make contact with me to check i was ok for the night. They hadnt called by nine, so i phoned them.I hadnt even been refered to them.

lying fucking bastard.

The person i spoke to from HTT tld me someone would call frist thing this morning to arrange to see me. 3pm rolls around, and no word.so i phone them, and they are busy and will get back to me. 5pm, still no call. so i phon them and they say i am not being seen today, well thanks for fucking telling me.

why cant someone help me please.

they are short staff-fine, i do get that. they said they have to prioritise-i also get that. however, considering i tried to kill muyself, was nearly sectioned and sent to the worlds most horrid psyc unit (well, before they decoded i was just making it all up, time wasting, attention seeking and fine) im pretty sure that counts as a fairly urgent referal.

and why couldnt they at least tell me this morn that they wouldnt see me. then i could have worled out a plan to help myself, gone to see my doc, gone to a and e for my bladder if i wasnt desperately waiting to see them.

the only service i have ever trusted has let me down more than they will ever know. the only people that ever helped wont even take me seriously.

I NEED SOME FUCKING HELP NOW

why cant i get it? even the retard that calls himself a psyc doc said the ed service should see me.

i have spent the afernoon looking uo the anatomy of my stomach. Next time, i know exactly where to cut, and then none of this will ever be a problem anymore.

i didnt ask to be born, afterall

so why should you be forced to live

a right botched job-TRIGGER WARNING

i got back from liverpool on friday evening. I cant actually bear to talk about that right now.

I wanted to die.that was that.


Big deep cut in tummy, bleeding out, call HTT who clock im about do do myself in.

hello hospital

 In the process, i managed to severe the nerves that contol your ability to pee. This is not fun. nrses made me drink litres of water-like literally-to try and force me to go.They left me for 12 hours, doubled over in pain, unable to do anything. If it were not for fabulous bella and kiz, i think i would have riped a hole in my bladder so it could empty. no kidding-there is NO discomfort and pain like that. I had to beg for them to catherteise me, and they would only ut a temp one in-and low and behold there was over a litre of urine in my bladder.oh the pain. they took it out and left me from 11pm t gone 12 the next day in the same state, until they puta long stay one in. The uroloist came to see me-and it was very traumatic, because they have to feel inside you to check things-and owing to recent events-well i wasnt really coping with that. Leaving me in a complete state all day, but noone would talk to me-they thought i was attention seeking.they wanted to take the catheter out, and i refused-not to be awkward, but NOONE was going any where near down there when i was in that state.they eventually took it out that night, and left me for 13 hours unable to pee before they put it back in. bythis point iwas infloods of tears. then the psyc team came and basicaly siad they couldnt give me anysupport or help, because they thought i should just deal wih it. so i refused to leave until they got me an ED appointment-im not normally a bitch, but im so desperate right now. especially when several people told me today that there is no reason why they shouldt see me.ARG.

the nurses on the ward said i wasnt medically fit to leave.through the floor bp, still unable  to pee and mega pain from wound-i do know its my fault-but you cannot discharge someone who cant even pee!so they took the cath out, and guess what-its 7hours later, by bladder is full to bursting point and there is nothing i can do at ome abou it.oh, and having been tld by the psycs that thy will be pissed if i go back to hospital,i do not know how to deal.

so hey-i ruined my life even more.cos now it sems im gonna need a permanent catheter.


Im so depressed-not in an 'oh im so dwon kind of way', more like 'i cannot go on like this, with no help, and feeling this ill.i want to die'. i didnt ask to be born, afterall.

in over my head

im in way over my head. I cant cope-i cant. sorry, this should probably have a trigger warning.

The defense tore my into shreds today.

In the space of 2 1/2 hors, i was portrayed as a  drunk student girl, a druggie, a slut, someone who 'just changed their mind', a headcase, a liar,  and someone who who had a 'grievance' and was jealous.erm yeh.the only grievance i have is that i feel like im the one on trial here.

But that i could cope with.That i expected, and knew it was coming. I knew they would make a massive deal of  me not telling anyone at the hospital what happened-but i was mashed on the drugs i was spiked with. I was scared of the police, who said i had a weak case, and then having noone belive me didnt make me feel that inclined to go back to the police.I mean, noone in that situation would make it even more shitter for themselves.

But that,I could deal with, just about.It was shit, i cried, and i puked from anxiety.

but talking about my termination-oh, im sorry, 'alleged' termination in court is NOT ON. They were trying to make out that i was a slag-from a catholic family, pregnant, and needed a reason to have a termination that my family would except. OH GO FUCK YOURSELVES DEFENSE. my family hated me anyway. and since i had an abortion because i was RAPED (a fact you convieniantly forget) your logic is twisted anyway.

 I hate this.Im tired of going over and over what happened-dont they get how immensly painful it is. everyone looking at me as i break down. And on it goes tomorow, becasue i was too upset to continue today.

icing on the cake-they spent most of yesterday trying to get my evidence disregarded due to my depression-apparantly the defense doubt my 'mental capacity to recall the true event'.

oh excuse me for being ill.Might i point out that your fucking client is half the reason im ill in the first place.

i.hate.this. i dont know how i can get through this again tomorow.

i got back early this evening to the hotel, and dismanteled the convieniently provided disposable razor from the bathroom.i looked at it for a really long time. they are still on the side, mocking me.i want to do the most unbelievable damage to myself right now. I cant let myself, becasue i dont think id stop until i was dead, And a ridiculous a reason as it is-well im not dying until that bastard has got eerything thats coming to him.

it just keeps getting worse

tomorow (well, later today technically), the defense are going to rip me to pieces.

someone please make this ok, or make it go away please.PLEASE

im not ready, all kinds of no

I'm going to get called after lunch.
They have had psyc reorts, and now its my turn.shitting HELL


noo.i need to go home.I saw him cos they fucked up the entrances cos of all the shit outside the court and now i just NEED TO GO HOME

erm and thanks for the top blog award guys. And thankyou very much to the annonymous person who pre paid a £200 expense account at my hotel. I honestly have no idea who you are, because i dont think i told anyone where i was staying. But if you read my blog, thankyou, and know that its very much appreciated.

just another post

Its 3 am and im sitting in my hotel room listening to the same song over and over and over-Maroon 5 'she will be loved'. I used toplay that song, that album all the time when I was here. Now it feels like some sort of weird bittersweet comfort. I couldnt listen to it until earlier this year without being right back where it happened. Except now im actually back here.

I'm not doing so great right now.

Just being here, seeing places has triggered a whole lot of things i spent years trying to forget. seems you never really do. I cant even stand being here. I feel overwhelmed by suicidal thoughtts, Ed, and just a mush of all the rest of the shit that calls itself my life.its so exhausting.im tired of fighting and im tired of being brave.

Hello, breakdown. I've also been expecting you.

I need diazepam, wine and diet coke NOW. and maybe some ideas on how to make this go away.

Im not brave.I'm a wuss. And I want to do this for all the other girls out there they wont get the chance to fight their corner. this was never really about just me. but all the same-i cant, i really really cant.please someonetell me what to do.i'm ready to give up on life.

This post has no title

 When I was little i was terrified of going to the dentist (I still am actually, its gets worse the older i get), which is completely irrational, because its not like i ever needed lots of treatment or anything (i wish this were true now, but sadly not-bulimia ruins your teeth). Anyway, I used to make all sorts of bargains with, erm, fate i guess-you know the kind-'if i keep my room tidy/clean my tack properly/do my homework/dont eat to keep mum happy then 'appointment day will neevr come, or it will get cancelled or something'. Know what i mean? I used to wish for things to happen to stop me going-even really bad things like crashing the car on the way (noone would get hurt-wed just bump it, but we would be so late would have to cancel etc etc), literally anything to PUT IT OFF. I'm still that way to a large extent now. All the really hideous things, i put them off until i really have to do them. I never seem to learn that getting it done with is so much better-i know that-but i still do that anyhow.

I'm actually kinda doing it now. I guess ive been doing it all week actually. Desperately wishing for something-anything-to stop this from happening. Its not that I want him to be able to just walk away from it-its just that i do no not want to be there under any circumstances. The scenarios that i conjure up to stop this from happening seem now much more like actual possibilities now im older-I could go and smash a car up and hurt myself so i couldnt go. I could cut really badly so i know id be in hospital;I could OD, or i could kill myself.  I could do any of these things.but would i?should i?


I dont know the answer to that, but i dont necessarily think it matters.

But would putting it off make it worse-well the relief would be there for a day or so. Then the super turbo charged anxiety would once again kick in, and if  its anything like the last 2 weeks, then i really dont want to know what that would be like longterm. well, i do, but you know what i mean. Clearly, there is going to be no last minute reprieve. yeh, cheers for that, powers that be.  And short of being dead, i have to go, or i will be arreseted and made to go-sucks giving evidence for the prosecution.

I am terrified. That doesnt even begin to describe it. I cant even talk about it without throwing up, courtesy of my friend 'super anxiety', so thats gonna be a barrel of laughs.

And what if noone belives what im saying?i cant got hrough that again, I cant ohysically deal with seeing him get away with it again. its akways on his terms-at uni he had control of the situation, he made my ife hell. He couldnt even stop at abusing me (i still cant say the R word out loud.handy eh?), he had to stick the knife in more and more everyday.

even my mum didnt believe me when i told her. If even your own mum doesnt take you seriously, then who the hell else is going to? SHe was so busy being angry about everything else-being a uni dropout, a team GB dropout, having a termination, that she just wasnt prepared to take anything else that i said. Because she must have had such a high opinion of me, NOT.

I hate liverpool-i hate the place, i hate the associations it has.I hat the atmosphere-fuck ot, i hate everything about it (im sorry if your scouse and reading this, im hoping you understand). I dont want to BE THERE, see all the old places, and feel like i did then all over again.It was all such a misery. And i dont want to see anyone, especially considering the 'support' HE has up there.

Im scared, im sick of being me, and im sick of being alone  

Oh god

I think im going to puke

hello, crippling anxiety. Ive been expecting you.

Basically I'm screwed either way

Ok, so im guessing me going on and on about this is getting pretty boring now. But hey, im writing this for me, and its what i need to think about, sooo (sometimes i have to remind myself its ok to write what i need to).

If I dont go, im gonna be in mega shit. In fact, as much as i'd like it to be, not going isnt actually an option now.Bollocks.

But if i do go, well, i'm pretty much going to wish i were dead, and to be honest, i dont think im doing that great a job convincng myself to do otherwise. I dont really know how i feel-which is the problem. I just dont give a shit about anything really. And that kind of 'well, whatever' attitude has got me into a lot of problems with SI, and it isnt getting any better. So fuck knows what il ebd up doing in an attempt to A)feel something physical, rather than whats going on in my weirdo head, B)take my thougts away from all of it, cos it hurts so freaking much, and C)well, do what i feel i deserve.for messing everything up.

I cannot do this.but i dont have any choice.

sounds familiar, oh the irony.

Facts of life

I'm scared

I miss my mum

actually i'm terrified. Its so stupid, because surely this is not as bad as when it actually happened.So why does it feel even worse?

I feel so overwhelmingly lonely. And disconnected. The loneliness is probably my fault. I'm a shit friend, and i always think people are 'just putting up with me'. I feel at ease with so few people right now. But i cant bear to feel this isolated for much longer. I guess in part its difficult, just becasue i dont know that many people in cornwall, and the cornish are not always that friendly to 'foreigners'. But i can almost HEAR how lonely i am sometimes, its so amplified.

I think I need to split up with my boyfriend. before it ends up with him being 'my carer' and not my boyfriend. Its not been intentional-and i know he is just worried for me, and thats just how he is-he wants to help me feel better, he wants to make me feel cared for. but what if he is doing that cos he is scared to leave me-maybe he thinks i'll lose it even more. I dunno.But he is too lovely for me to mess up. He deserves someone better.

I probably should have stayed in hospital, and I prob should have listened when they told me to stay put in bed today and move as little as possible.seems there was a reason for that. Fuck, im going crazy from the pain of it aqgain like before. Im so freaking stupid. Moral-dont ever think its a good idea to flick the blade of a craft knife out when you have the end pressed against your tummy. For 2 reasons-IT fucking HURTS and the pain is not worth the very temporary relief you will get.Its realy not-though clearly this is something i have yet to grasp. And 2-if someone else DID that to you, you call it a 'stab wound' and call the police. I think that kinda tells you something there. Its not like i can do a weeks solid bed rest anyway-I leave on tuesday.

I wish I were someone else.Possibly Lily Allen, or Emily from skins (because she is my style icon lol). Lily beacause she wears ballgowns to tesco and says what she thinks no matter what.

At the same time, I also wish I were dead.

Things that i have learnt today (aka why i should have just stayed in bed)

1.Its REALLY embaressing when the A&E receptionist knows your DOB, address, doctors surgery and half your phone number without having to ask.

2.My estimation of how bad my SI wounds are is vastly different to doctors/surgeons/you name it. This is apparantly a bit of a problem. For example, last week I was talking to out of hours and was upset-They persuaded me to go get my cut checked.I thought it would need 3 stitiches max, if that. It actually ended up with 18.ooops.

3.Collapsing in triage when the nurse starts poking you is not a smart move. Turns out you really arent supposed to bleed enough to restock a bloodbank-well, who knew! Combine this with 'you should be dead low blood pressure', and veins that refuse to give them any more blood to test and your kinda in trouble.

4.There is only so many times you can nick your bowel before your luck runs out.

5.General anaesthetic is GOD. I was very resentful of the nurse that insisted on waking me up after i had had my 'sew your insides back wear they belong' op-not only did she pull me out of a fantastic dream in which i was married to a 'not gay jon paul from hollyoaks' who spent a lot of time wearing scrubs (i have a thing for doctors!) she also ruined the best sleep i have had in nearly a year. It was so nice to just sink into oblivion. And then the funny inbetween stage you get when you are coming too, well all felt good in the world until they stuck the drip feed in.

6.Its a total bitch when they end up taking blood from your foot, cos they cant get to it anywhere else.

7.apparantly, docs arnt really down with the 'diet coke and diazepam' diet. funny that. I now have a cupboard full of ensure, whih i will never drink-mostly because its gross.

8.lawyers can be sods (though you know i dont mean you Jess <3 )

9.I probably should have stayed in hospital, because im not feeling the love right now.

all of the above are reasons why i should just stay in bed for the forseable future.Although in supposed to do that anyway.

xxx

the fourth trip

The first time i went to Liverpool-well i should have realised it didnt bode well! I got the coach up from London for my vet school interview-with my mum, as it happens, i think she was keen to make sure i went, cos it certainly wasnt no exercise in bonding. Anyway we got the night coach, and arrived in Liverpool at 5am, and didnt need to be at the uni until 9am, so we spent ages trying to warm up in the coach station cafe, before walking dwon to the uni. It was freezing cold, pissing with rain and i didnt want to be there. The interview was fine-apart from the fact that i managed to insult the chief veterinary inspector to his face about the foot and mouth crisis(i didnt realise who he was), and i guess i entertained them, cos i got in. After the interviews, we had a quick look around the rest of the campus, and a little bit of town-liverpool is HUGE, then we had to get the bus back to London.

verdict-i hated it. But it was really far away from my messed up family-further than my other option, Cmbridge, so Liverpool it was.

The second time i went to Liverpool I had my stuff packed up in boxes in a car-i think id finally done somthing right for my mum. The horses were also being taken up there, so i could still compete in the nationals.swell. But i as finally away from my nutty family. my mum and my stpdad stayed for about 5 seconds after they dropped me to halls, and then i unpacked. The room was weird, and i didnt like it. I met Rich when he moved in down the hall, and we drank tea and giggled nervously a lot. I felt inferior to everyone else in that block, and it was even worse when the runour started after that party happened. I just remember sitting in there in my room, locking the door and praying id be left alone, and that someone would save me from this hell.

The third time i went to Liverpool was with my friend, recently, to finally pick up my things from halls.

and the Fourth time is now, to go to court. if i see him i am going to die, the last bit of me that is left.is that what he wants? Its going to be the same.Im going to be in a hotel room, this time, but still the same-hoping that someone can save me from this hell.

cos i really dont hink i can do this. i really honestly dont know how i am going to get through this. I know i should just grow a pair, and get on with it-but i cant do it. I cant even tlk about it anymore now-i feel all 'blocked' and confused.so how am i gonna tell people i dont even know. it took me a year and a half to tell home treatment team what was actually wrong-and i LIKE talking with some of those guys.

arg.arg.shit.

im not doin it.il just plead insanity and get out of it, cos not like i'd be lying or anything. But...even though i know i could technically get out of this by pleading 'instability and ill health'-I cant do that either.

cos that makes sense,right?

At the end of the day-i know what happened, even if it gets twisted byond ll belief. And i think that accepting tht i am not to blame will alwasy be the thing that will help me the most. But i think of all the people who never had a chance to speak up, so may women, and i kind of feel like id be letting girl-kind down by not doing this.

I guess il just plead insanity when i get back
xxxx

Balance

I feel like I am spending so much time trying to distract myself from thinking and feeling that I dont even feel like I'm living any kind of life-and whats the point in that. I guess there is a balance between dealing with things in a healthy way, and needing the distraction to prevent more destructive thoughts. But i also think that mental health professions almost seem to replace the meaning of 'distract' with 'avoid' which is only ever going to be counter productive. See, I get up in the morning, and what im supposed to do right now is spend the day doing 'enjoyable activities' to distract myself from the shit that is my life right now (yes, i am still feeling v sorry for myself).Ok, fine-but the more you desparately try to stop yourself thinking of these things, the moreit builds up, until i end up boiling over, and it ends in a really destructive way. I know, for me, what would help is talking about these things a little each day-not so much i get lost and overwhelmed by it more than i already am, but enough so my thoughts have had their airtime, and can just chill out for a while, yknow. My brain is a major pain in the arse, and hates not being listened to-however, give it its time, and it does tend to leave me be for a while. I know this helps me. And its driving me mad that HTT and out of hours, doctors, CPN's etc dont get this-avoiding my issues just makes it worse-they become 'the big murky ickyness that gets increasingly bigger and follows you around'-they becomea massive taboo in your head. But all i ever get told-if i try and talk about this things is to distract myself-ive soent years avoiding things and now i want to deal, and try and talk about things-or else im goingt o be saying it all pretty much for the first time IN COURT which i don think is a good move for my sanity.

I just think you need to be careful to distinguish between distracting yourself from maladaptive coping strategies and avoiding life.

But hey, what would i know, right?

1.All it needed was a bit of time 2.yes, I do feel sorry for myself right now.

This time next week I'll be back in Liverpool, in some scummy hotel room counting down the hours until it all gets a whole lot worse. Clearly, I can hardly wait.

I've had a really horrible day.I've been pulled to pieces by lawyers on the phone, and been warned that there is likely to be a fair amount of trouble kicking off in Liverpool around the court. fabulous. One of my best friends has completely blown me off and replaced me with far cooler people and im still having my jobcentre fun. I really wish I had some friends that would just call me to say hey, drop by with no kind of agenda-but i dont. I have friends who only ever call me when they need something. Like, really. I'm not sure how the hell it happened, but i managed to get a rep for being the person that always knows what to do-which is pretty dumb when you think about it. And im so sick of it. I've tried talking to people about it, and nothing changes. I wouldnt even mind, but it doesnt work both ways. Because now i really need a friend-and noone wants to know. And, yeh, dont tell me they just feel awkward, and dont know what to say-yeh fine, but for fuck sake, id be there in a flash for one of them, all i want is some distraction.

To add to this general fabulousness i got into a massive state earlier and ended up cutting pretty bad. It took out of hours a really long time to convince me to go to the hosp-it makes me so so anxious-people touching me, and not feeling like im in control, and the endless questions. So i go up there and end up seeing a doc i havnt seen before. And jeezus, all i needed was a little bit of time, yknow. A and E was dead-i was like there only patient-literally, so there was no need for her to rush the way she did. She made me feel so uncomfortable, pushing my hands away from my tummy so she could look, pulling my arm away when i flinched, jamming my knee out of the way. I cant even begin to explain how much i cant handle people touching me right now. And she pushed all of my buttons, even when i managed to explain and ask her to not do that. She put the local anaesthetic in, and didnt wait for it to work before she started, but just carried on when i said it really hurt. I was crying so much by this point-cos of the whole thing, and i wasnt numb at all, and she wouldnt put more local in, cos she said it would be quicker to just carry on. So thats the second time ive now had stitches with no anaesthetic. Then afterwards she went for it good and proper with the 'evils of self harm lecture'.Yes, she prob thought she was helping. But she knows nothing about me at all. And telling me that cutting myself makes me a bad inadequate person isnt really going to help. And that, yes the courtcase, and my mum dying must have been sad, but i need ot just move on'.well yeh-what do you think im trying to do. Its really not that long since mum died, and there is so much other shit tied up in this court case that is all going to get unravelled. She told me that i should get over it and stop thinking i was the unluckiest person in the world-well FUCK YOU. Anyone that knows anything about me knows that one of the things i always stand by is that everything is relative-'its all relative' is something i say at least once a day. Of course there are people worse off than me-i know that.of course i do. people have been through some monstrous stuff, far worse than you or i could ever imagine.But you know what-sometimes its not about what happemed-its about where it got you, and how you deal with it(or not).

So yes-i do feel pretty damn sorry for myself right now. Its taken me 6 years to realise that its ok to feel that way;that its ok to be upset and angry, and feel hard done by. Sonetines its ok to be self indulgent, be selfish and do what you need to do. And im not going to feel guilty for that. Because its ok that im upset-and fuck it, im delaing with 6 years worth of repressed upset.so yeh, i will feel sorry formyself. I'm not going to wallow forever-ill pull myself back upo again, and yes, i will move on. But when im ready to do that; when i wake up in the morning and im not bursting into tears, when i can cuddle up with jack without having flashbacks-thats when il know its ok.

so-I am NEVER, no matter what, or how bad anything might be, going to A&E again. Noone deserves that kind of treatment. I still feel cringey thinking about the needle dragging through my skin. I think it caught a nerve at one pint, cos i actually thought i was gonna pass out with how much it freaking hurt. Also, in the haste-one of the stitches must have been put in funny, or to tight, cos its split the skin and just opened the wound mor ewhere its pulled out. Fucking OUCH.

Its ok to feel upset, and its ok to feel the way i do right now.

10 days

Its only 10 more days away.

considering how the previous 10 days have been, im not looking forward to this gradually getting closer and closer. Its too real now-its not some date miles in the future, its 10 freaking days away.

10 more dyas until everything gets a whole lot worse.

clearly, I cannot wait.

I cant fucking do this. There is no way in hell that i can stand there being pulled to pieces by some lawyer who is only interested in baking me look like a massiv liar.Its not happening. I'd rather be dead than that. There is actually a facebook group to SUPPORT that bastard. can you freaking beleive it! And lwayers cant do anything, cos its not set up by him, and doesnt mention his surname. fucking hell. I swear right now, i dont know wether i want to kick seven shades of shit out of him, or curl up and cry.

A really long 'doesnt make much sense post with a trigger warning'

I really wish someone i knew was working for the out of hours service tonight. I've got to know most of them now, and a lot of them know that I spend a bit of time talking total rubbish until i might hint at whats wrong, and theyve got good at reading between the lines. For the last week, i've had all thi sshit banging about in my head;and everytime ive called ive just got the 'have a hot bath routine'.are you kidding me?I already feel like im slowely melting, clearly a hot drink and bath aint gonna help!haha. But you get what i mean. Tonight, I just want to cry. I started talking to someone I hadnt spoken to before, and i was just getting brave enough to talk about what was going on and she told me she had to go, cos her phone line was busy. Er, thats what switchboard call back system is for-I use it-so i know i sound selfish here-but so the fuck can everyone else. So before i jolly on up to A&E to get sewn back together for the second night in a row, I thought maybe I would try and write about what im thinking.Incidently-why is it always BLUE string they use?would it kill them to get some pink haha.sorry.bad joke.And couldnt they tie the stitches in little bows?ok, im stopping now.

Im really confussed. My brain aches. My last post-it wasnt so people would write nice things about me-tho thanks very much, ur all lovely and made me blush-im genuinelly perplexed by it. I really cannot stand myself right now. So much so that I seem to be trying to literally cut my stomach away.or something like that. I hate myself, i make my own skin crawl. You know when you have suffered with depression over a long period-and you can tell when your about to drop right down, no matter how you try and back pedal? that how i feel right now. My jaw and face muscles are all so tense-like they want me to not talk.This always happens at the start of a massive downer. The weird slleping pattern, the mood swings, its all there, and i know it was kinda enevitable, and im not just giving in to it-but its soo consumming. When your head wants you to give up and hideaway, then suddenly your body does too.

Heres what I wanted to say to out of hours-that I doubt myself, i doubt what happened, and its making me feel sick.All these years-i knew what happened-as much as i tried to filter it away-but now-well, it seems hazy and vague, and like i maybe deserved it for leading him on. I really appreciated your comments on that Elk, and Jess-and reading it-i 100% get it, but i try and think it through, and i just cant, it gets lost somewhere. And i think id agree with anything the defense lawers might say just to get them to shut the hell up and leave me the fuck alone, and stop making me think about it. I got a typed out version of my phone convo with lawyers from the other day. seeing it, reading it-thats not what happened-its not-they twist it, and they take away the bad bits and hide them with the fact that i had a drink and i flirted with him. I accepted a drink form him-er, hello, how does that make it ok for him to spike it-. Their version makes me seem like a slut, and I am NOT.well, at est i didnt think i was until about 10am this morning when i saw it in black and white. Why didnt I tell the doc at hosp that I had been assualted-'my answer-becasue i was off my head on LSD thankyou very much'. their version of that is that i was totally drunk so couldnt be sure-er no.i dont think so.

But thats what everyine there will hear, and belive, because i dont have the fight left anymore to make them see how it really was. So whats the point even. They just see a girl who was pissed up and 'slept with someone, changed her mind so cried rape' and didnt try and go to the police again at the time. well would YOU after that?

They dont see the after effects. They wern't there when I found out i was pregnant-they dont care about that. They werent there when i had an abortion.and they dont know how messed up i am as a result-cos that doesnt matter to them. That i see myself in a mirror and feel so disgusted by what i see, that the only way i feel better is to cut, and that i cant eat anything without puking up after.They dont know what its like to feel noone in the world belives you, they dont know whats its like to have your mum refuse to talk to you for years because you had ot have a termination. They dont see how i cant let anyone touch me, that even my friends can make me flinch, that sometimes im so scared of my boyfriend (even though he is lovely, and wouldnt hurt a fly) that i wish more than anything in the world that i was dead. Jack hugged me the other day, because i was crying.and i hit him.not because HE upset me-because touching just cant happen sometimes.how do you even explain that.Actually he gets it.and tells me he might enrol in self defense. But seriously-if we are a product of our life experiences-then that had a massive impact on how i am now. And that-the effects of it, have dome mre damage than the event itself ever could. And you know what?

they will never know that.

and that is what makes me so fucking sick.

gotcha thinking

Well, i'm doing freaking out about St Georges for tomight (see last post), cos i have finally excepted there is actually nothing i can do until tomorow morning. I am NOT losing my place for some stupoid reason after all this crap from the last year. And there is no way in hell that i went to that cacky college for no reason.

so that aside, two other things have got me really thinking.

Jack told me last might that im a total flirt. This is something i had never really realised, but he rekons my shy girl thing (which is really me!) is totally a come on. weird. he was teasing, and we were messing around. But it leads to this-i've never denied that i had a drink at that party-although i know i wasnt hammered before i had THAT drink. And i WAS talking to him-and it sickens me to remember-but i dis think he was cute, i did fancy him-or i wouldnt have been talking with him so long-i would have runaway and hid, yknow. So maybe i titally led him on.Maybe hes right.That he was just getting what he thought he should have been. I am so confussed. I had a phonecall today from the prosectution team (yay, love them calls) and they were talking with me about some of the things the defense are going to try and pull apart-and the fact that people say that i was flirting with him, talking with him all night is something they made a thing of. And now my brain HURTS.

and something really weird happened this afternoon. I went for a walk, the ay i often go, down the apth my the river, that runs near town, and this girl stopped me and said 'I just wanted to say-and please dont think im being weird-that your really pretty. I see you around all the time, and i just wanted to tell you, yknow'.

how weird IS that.Not her, obviously, thats not what i mean.shes sweet, and beyond button-cute. Just weird. I mean, i look like im about to give birth to an entire litter. I keep looking at this pic of me on fb and thinking-omg how ENOURMOUS do i look, must delete. despite having a tan, my face is so pale  people still ask if i have some sort of lethal disease i havnt told them about-which is pretty disheartening, consodering i have finally decided pale is the way forward. So it just kinda spun me out. And made me think about ED sufferes as a whole-and how the ways in which we view ourselves is vastly different to the way others see us(not that im saying im pretty here, if this makes sense). Back home in London ive seen plenty of size zero girls-and yknow what-they all just looked unhealthy, no matter how pretty they were, that was the thing that stuck out.

I see this, and i still wish that were me. which is maybe why its such a bastard to eat right now. And yet im still the size of, well, someone who is about to give birth to an entire nation.

ED-1 ME-0

Well, that figures...

So I spent ALL day at the jobcentre trying to get them to sort my payments out, and got home to a letter telling me there is a 'strong possibility' that my Uni offer for st Georges is going to be withdrawn-as my doctor was late returning the medical forms and missed the deadline.

I gave it to him a month before the due date, and it got lost whilst the practice was moving premises. I know these things happen. BUT FOR FUCK SAKE.

after all of this, i cannot lose my place due to this.

How to unscrew-up my life right now, in some not so easy steps

1.email my horrible tutor and explain that I just cant come into college right now, and all that needs doing to my folders is to photocopy like 2 pages, and beg him to do it for me. I cannot deal with seeing him in person right now, because i just find him rude and insulting. So i think this might be the best plan. And i really dont need any m ore shit right now. Though if he refuses (likely), im gonna have to go in.yay.

2.Sort out my college fees. An administation fuck up on the part of jobcentre plus means my course fees were not payed. As part of one of their many schemes to avoid paying you any sickness benefit, they offer monet towards re-training courses, like mine. Apparantly they havny paid their share. And It all goets moderated on friday. FUCK. Nothing like a bit of notice.

3.Fill in yet more medical forms for uni, and the disability forms also. because bulimia makes me disabled apparantly.yuh.

4.Fill in more stuff for the NHS bursary forms

5.Fill in another lot of student loan forms, as a 'clerical error' means my originals were not processed.This i can well belive, and was expected-it seems to have happened to everyonme from cornwall this year!

6.Phone the prosecuters office to confirm some stuff. Becasue if they oleave one more message on my answer phone to call them im going to go insane-yes i will call you back-but jeez, give me a chance to get my head together.

7.photocopy 'eveidence that im crazy' letter from CPN to attatch to various forms.

8.Phone jobcentre for usual 'why the fuck havnt you payed me conversation.then have to apply for a crisis loan when they still fail to do so'.

OMG AAARRRRGGGG

remember that breathing is a self indulgent waste of time i cannot afford.

8.Try and convince HTT to take me back on their caseload.

9.Beg docs receptionist to give me an appt some time this year.preferably NOW.

busy day then

Thats IT

Im not going and im not bloody doing it. and I DO NOT have a guilty conscience.I'm just SICK of it. And im not sure how it fits in with my plans of managing to stay, uh alive, now i have no fucking support whatsoever.

Clearly, i dont have any choice-i have to go.But right now its v helpful to pretend that this is an option. So pretty please dont burst my bubble by pointing this out.

Got some info today from the crown court service people. They are going to put screens up, so i cant see HIM and he cant see me, but prosecuter, judge etc can. Public are going to get kicked out for prosecution testimonies, thank christ, at least his friends wont be in there at the time. I'm hoping they didnt thinkI was joking when I said I'd quite like them to have a puke bucket handy. I just looked up some stuff online from all the scary court websites, and i threw from anxiety as the page loaded. I swear if any of his scummy little friends say a word im going to go insane at them. Im literally praying that i dont see anyone i know from my time there. What if they hang around waiting for me come out? I'm officially the most unpopular girl in Liverpool. well, apart from Colleen Rooney. And other people with annoying accents.Even though other girls spoke up, HE has a lot of people vouching for him.

Fuckity Fuck

im not going.

Re my last post-

just phoned out of hours service who accused me of lying-about the fact that i have written complaint letters and never had a reply, and to top it all-the real icing on the cake-

'maybe you cant get the courtcase out of you rmind because you have a guilty conscience'

yes, thats exactly why.Obviously.

excuse me whilst i go drown myself

in summary

Well, ive been discharged from HTT as they dont think its productive to try and talk about what i need to say in court, and that its totally not a problem that when i tell them i am existing on a combination of diazepam, painkillers and diet coke, im actually NOT joking. Because obviously bulimics cant go 5 minutes without binging.yuh. So i get to have more jolly chats with my CPN. last time i saw here she asked if id heard from my mum recently. So shes obviously as helpful as ronald without a macdonalds. Plus if i left a message for her to call me, id prob be waiting till september for her to bother to call me back. And their support WAS helping me. A fucking lot.But apparantly they cant find a 'therapeutic reason' to continue with me on the caseload. I'm so fucking sore cos ive got a horrible infection from SI, and am so swollen look like im about to give birth to an entire litter. Which i know is my own fault-i do-but its not really helping me deal. Im so miserable. And im so sick of fighting and fighting to get some support.

Its not fair and i cant do it anymore. I just really cant. Thanks guys, 2 weeks before i have to go to liverpool you leave me entirely fucked. and all they have to say is 'you can call out of hours', which means i have all day to wait til 9pm when i can talk to someone, who could have helped me at 9am.

I do so love mental health services. And if anyone would like to yell at them for me, that would be entirely great.

you can find comfort in the oddest places

if you look hard enough.

and sometimes, most of all in the most obvious ones, often overlooked.

I'm listening to boyzones greatest hits right now.ok, so thats not that unusual for me (and yes, thankyou, i know i have excellent taste in music), and i just found a photo of me and mum, one i never knew i even had. I've been starting to pack, sorting through my things ready to move after the courtcase, and it fell out of a diary. Maybe to remind me that she always was there afterall. sorting through a box of random 'stuff' and finding silly notes me and donna wrote to eachother from work. I found this top at the back of my cupboard. Its green, with a darker green flower print on it, and its really nice. It doesnt fit anymore (a slight mishap with a tumble-dryer), but its linked to so many things. My friend Nicky who bought it for me in the first place, when i was pretty damn miserable, to cheer me up. That i wore it all the time when i first moved to cornwall, until i lent it to my friend Hayley, who used to wear it when we went out. Its in the charity shop bag now, and thats ok, its done its bit for me. The things i bought back form Liverpool a while back-I can get rid of them now, and that feels good, comforting. I dont really know why, it just does. let it go. The tshirt we had to wear for freshers week, so the epic 'pubcrawl' placed could get signed off. The tshirt that i wore over my dress for a while at that party, before shoving it in my bag. its in the bin now.

Like i say, theres comfort in the oddest things. In routine, and in memories. i used to buy every boyzone single when they came out-on tape back in the day, i think i was about 9 or 10 when i got the first one lol, and i remember, mum on her better days singing along and dancing to it with me. Most of the memories i have of mum and me are not that great. weight, food and hospitals.Arguments, horses, and passing exams. but those times-i wouldnt trade that for the world.

This morning i got up, and felt like getting dressed up.Im not really sure why. Its all so familiar, straightening my crazy hair, smudging brown eyeliner, tugging a dress over my head, delving around for a matching hair bow.

i read this-


 http://welikenests.blogspot.com/2010/07/on-people-we-live-with-and-places-we.html 

and though it was so lovely. And i started sorting. Theres an odd sort of comfort in that.

you just have to hang on sometimes.

Priorities

my priorities and HTT's and my doctors idea of what my priorities should be are vastly different.

Mine include becoming rather more attatched to my duvet and moomin books than i already am, avoiding A&E, keeping my diet coke and diazepam levels topped up, with the odd cheese sandwich thrown in(dont ask), filing in forms for uni and pretending its winter so i dont have to feel bad about not wanting to do summer- like activities. Oh and then theres the obvious ones like attempting to ignore how close court is getting, not thinking about what im going to have to say, and oh, basic thinks like keeping myself alive. Its like, a full time job.

Theirs include trying to force me out of my house-what is with that anyway? If i wanted to go out , I would.Yes blah, blah exercise is good for your mood. But I'm TIRED.Ive just finished college, which totally battered my brain(and exhasted me, 3 hours on the worlds crappest bus service everyday.if theres a pothole/ditch/hazard, rest assured first direct bus drivers accelerate straight over them), and i want to just mooch around my house in my pajamas and get some energy back. Also, they are so obsessed with taking me out for tea and cake. I mean SERIOUSLY please tell me im not the only one who can see what a piss take that is?! I mean someone who questions the fat content of diazepam tablets, isnt really gonna be that keen on the cake option.And them watching me eat.And why would i want to have the conversations they have with me IN PUBLIC?!. They also think its an excellent idea for me to go over what i need to say in court several times a day. Yeh, i do see the logic in that, i really honestly do-it becomes familiar so you dont notice what you are saying. But heres the main prob with that-i think about it, it gets stuck in my head, i cant distract myself from it, and then hello A&E. But there main priorities are to eat 3 meals and 2 snacks a day and to not SI. well yeh, thats mine too. But they sem to be missing out the in between bits.

basically there priorites are the opposite of mine. I think however |I can get through these next couple of weeks will be how it is, i cant change lifetime habits right now-im not saying i dont want to, just that its obviously more difficult right now.And im still trying.But them getting shitty with me about it right now is so not helping me. Sometimes i honestly just think you have to coast through things the best way that you can. I'm trying to eat, and im trying not to SI, and that really is the best I can do right now. I also think I know myself a whole lot better than they do, contrary to what they seem to think, with their one size fits all policies.DOnt get me wrong, i think some of the team are brilliant, and i have so much respect for their ideas and opinions. But I know that chilling out at home, where i feel comfortable, and curling up with my duvet is really sometimes the best thing for me. I know that, and i wish that they would respect that my opinions are valid-cos when it comes down to it, they dont know me as well as i know me.

Tonight

How the hell did i get from feeling ok after seeing HTT this morning, and soending some time with Jack, to spending the evening getting sewn back together in A&E I dont think i'll ever really understand.

Theres a lot to be said for thinking too much.

Dont do it.

STOP

Stop, i need to STOP
see everything in my life feels like its running away from me, everything is going so fast around me, and theres me, oblivious to whats actually happening.


Poss trigger warning

I realised today-and got really upset-that i dont have a clue what is going on with anyone else in my life right now.And, dont please jump in and say 'oh it doesnt matter'-cos i think it does-but i havnt a clue how anyone in bloggy world is doing.And i care about everyone, and i have made some really GOOD friends here, people i can talk with and be myself.And i know its the internet blah blah, but hopefully you know what i mean. And i felt really really upset that i havnt been there for anyone else whilst wallowing in my own misery, which is neither helpful, or productive, but feels like my default setting right now. So this is a messsage for all my gals-im sorry and i hope your all doing as best as can be. I havnt spoken to one of my best friends for weeks-she is impossible to get on the phone anyway, thast just DL for you, but i suddenly realised just how much i missed her-and hopw afraid i am to get in touch with her. Shes got all these super cool friends, and theres me, in exactly the same place.

Today i went to plymouth with shiz,my other best friend, and we had such a fun time-just for a little while i was just lost in sillyness and bows and me for a while. My brother sent me some vocuhers to say well doen for finishing college, and heck i shouldnt have done it, but i spent about £70 of them today. But fuck it, amybe i deserved it-the fun day i mean. sometimes i think im so hard on me, and sometimes i think i dont give myself a hard enought time. Anyhow, i ended up buying a BEAUTIFUL dress from republic, by miso, and an amazing skirt from River Island, which is pale yellow, and covered in this brilliant bird print. which i have been lusting over. And bought the usual array of random stuff from primark-including a fabulous skirt covered in bows, and speaking of bows, i bought lots of new hair bows, cos there aint nothing like a bow to cheer me up.oh god im sooo materialistic. sometimes i wish i wasnt so bloody clothes obsesses, and sometimes i think, ah well, thats just me.

and it also strikes me as odd that i did that today, when what does it matter in comparrison to everything else.its just stupid, right?

sorry, weird mood, please can someone help me sort my life out, please?

STOP.
also refers to the fact that i got myself so muddled up upon coming home fab day out and how i didnt deserve the stuff i got, that i ended up in a messy situation with SI. I stopped before i got really bad-i dont know how-like i really dont, suddenly, and i just thought-its just the same thing over and over, and like jessie from synedouche tells me, quite rightly-it hasnt got me anywhere new.

but now im sitting here really confussed.I needed to hurt myself to make it right.And i couldnt because i stopped-but i stopped because i knew that i am doing some really bad damage to myself. but sometimes i dont care about that,so why suddenly now?I am so confused.

so bloody confused.And now i feel like i need to finish off what i started.

After that (continues from last post) Trigger warning.

 Back at uni, alone in my room, with the scan picture of my little thing. shut the world out. alone in every sense.

Endless letters and emails from lecturers, missing tutorials, practical days, failing midterms. I dont DO failure-never have, my brain cant quite process it. Which is a bit shit really considering how much i have failed.

Halls manager coming to my room, asking if i was ok, why i wasnt going in to uni.

I'm fine fine fine.please go away.please leave me alone.

more rumours.

End of term. Dragged myself to the last lectures of the week. He saw me, nudges and whispers. By this point even rich wasnt having a lot to do with me-not really surprising the grief he got for associating with me. Tutors pulling me back afterwards, balling me out. Like i cared.

So I tried one last time to tell someone.

It got me nowhere.

locked my door, shut all the windows and blinds. first the prozac-the doc thought i might be 'a little depressed'. Down that went. Then the iron tablets, a whole bottle. paracetamol, ibuprofen, codeine, Vodka, bang, down they went. Then cutting. Didnt get much further before i passed out. woke up in hospital, bruised and battered-stomach pumps are not a lot of fun.

went straight from hospital to home. Home home i mean-back to london. didnt even take all my stuff with me, the hall warden arranged to store it for me.

I was home for about 2 days before i broke down.I tried to tell mum. And she threw me out for having had an abortion (catholic). and that was that.

So i sold my competition horses, and bought out of my sponsorship deals woth the proceeds. I got a live in job at a riding  school and livery yard, and lost myself, surrendered to the steady routine of the job. Up at 6.feed yards, muck out.Breakfast (or not). Ride, teach, lunch(or not). Teach, groom, evening yards, dinner (or not). shower, get changed, go out, get drunk, come back home and start again the next day. Repeat x2 years. Occasionally get so completely hammered you sleep with guys, anything to get the thought, the creeping feel of him away from you. I thought i could mark over it, lose it, but you never can.Not really.

and then STOP.

enough.

you try again, only you are far wiser this time.different method. you think you have been careful, but you get found (and you truly did not want to be-this was no cry for help) and hello hospital for 2-3 weeks.

Then suddenly a while after that you find yourself working in a hotel in the backarse of cornwall and not really knowing how you got there. This is not a geographical relocation that i would reccomend.

A few months after that i seem to have qualified as a veterninary nurse.how the fuck that happemned il never really know. I might have been there, but my head was someplace else entirely.

and now-well now ive just finished college all over again.And im still trying to figure out why the hell im still here, in every sense.

20 days until the courtcase.

shit.

Loss

I remember sitting in my room at halls, it was so cold, and i had so many layers on. nothing was fitting quite right, and it was weird-i'd lost weight from not eating, but now i was putting it on-but i was still pretty much existing on diet coke and the odd piece of fruit.

ignoring my phone ringing and ringing and ringing.

ignoring emails from friends at home;letters i always ment to reply to piled up on the side.

I'd been at uni for 4 months, and i could count the number of lectures id managed to go to.

everyone hated me.i'm not even slightly kidding. I got skewy drunk one night, and a couple of girls filled in the blanks in what had happened. I thought they were my frineds, i thought i had people i could trust.finally. No No NO all kinds of no. See, they got all self rightous and wanted everyone to know-they thought it was there story to tell. Then they found out who it was. That wasnt hard.I went to a lecture, and he sat behind me, and i flinched and cried and ran away, seeing the mocking look in his eyes. Then i found out that one of the girls had a bit of a thing with him.

and then my life was HELL.

and all the time, slowely but surely, this thing was growing inside me.and i had no idea. I felt sick all the time-but that goes with the territory when your anxiety level is throught the roof and beyond.

About that time we started our dissection practicals-and it was an automatic fail for the year if you didnt show up. The afternoon before we were given our new dissection kits, and boxes of replacement blades. I think that £30 was the most damaging money i have ever spent in my life. The concerned looks i got from a second year welfare rep, on a combined year option, as i took my lab coat off. halfway through that day, i coudnt take anymore. I went to the loos, with a blade in my pocket, and oh the relief. its never. ever been like it was that day again. M, the welfare rep followed me-asked if i was ok. im fine fine fine.

the thing inside me gets bigger.

i eat less and less and still my belly grows rounder. Tired, so tired i sleep through whole days, and through the night.

I am sitting in my room when it happens. I have just returned from a meeting with the dean of the vet faculty. Seems they dont appreciate the rumours that are circulating-which were started my those girls, never me, and something that noone ever belived. Why would i do that anyway?makes no sense. Anyhow they told me to shut up or get out. I had shut up long ago.

I went home via asda, and bought a bottle of archers, and some vanilla vodka. If your gonna be miserable, at least be drunk whilst doing so. And i had my blades. I was safe in my room.

As it happens i never got that far. I went into the kitchen to get a glass, and hurried back to my room, locking the door, locking the world out. A note from \Rich under the door, asking if i was ok. Did i want to go out later?no, i did not.

layed down on my bed and cried and cried.

And then i felt the thing kick. unmistakable, it did it again, summersaults in my tummy.

theres only so long you can be in denial for.

a positive pregnancy test.

sometimes, life just keeps on giving.

a life for a life.

a part of him, inside of me.

see, theres some things that will stay with you for the rest of your life. It doesnt matter what happens to him at court. It doesnt. because nothing will ever ever change the fact that he turned my life inside out, broke it at the seams.and left me woth another life.

a life for a life.

numbness, shock, resigned to the fact. no longer alone.comfort. the thing got bigger and for 3 days, it kept me alive, it kept me going, it gave me reason, i was no longer alone.

and then BANG.

repulsion, horror, sickening, disgust.

NO NO NO

i will never forgive myself.

the doctors said it was too late. they didnt know how i had got pregnant-or they would have helped me, according to my current GP.

i had a scan. A baby on the screen.The biggest mistake of my life was looking. you can fall in love and hate all at the same time.

I told Rich. he made some phonecalls.

I used all of my student loan, maxed a credit card, and rich put the rest on his. He drove me there, squeezing my knee, telling me over and over it was ok, it was an ok thing to do. I love rich.

A waiting room. A doctor, asking me all sorts of things i didnt really know the answers to.was i sure? did i realise that the only option at that stage was to induce labor?

The worst 26 hours of my life.

The nurse wasnt fast enough.I saw my little thing. And that was when i realised that i had done the worst thing i could ever have done.

You dont need to beat me to it-i hate myself.i do.

the worng thing for asll the right reasons, or the right thing for all the wrong reasons. I dont know.

I hate him. He will never know what he has done to me. Because whatever they ask me in court, he will never know how he tore me in two.

and that is why i deserve to hurt, and i deserve to cut myself. over and over again.

a life for a life.