I have glittery pee

totally true. see, the catheter thing was really getting to me, so i emptied a pot of glitter in to the bag (if your a health professional-a night bag, so dont tell me off!this means you trace!hahahah) so now i have sparkly rainbow wee, like a unicorn would have. I am great.hahaha.

so anyways, today i got a uni letter, telling me my room allocation. Which got me thinking-omg that sooo close now. well, i wont go there now, because i dont have enough diazepam, LOL. but this is what it got me thinking-oh heck. what the bloody hell am i going to WEAR!!!! which, ok, is a fairky typical vic type thing to be thinking. BUT i am going to have to cross.to.the.over.side.

let me explain.I dont own any sports wear-like none. And i am doing a physiotherapy course, which is clearly going to entail the need for some sort of sport-type clothes. hmn. you might think its simple really, just head down to JD sports or dsimilar and buy things. BUT I CANT DO IT! its totally soul destroying. buying black or navy or grey trackies,and sports bra's, and god forbid, a pair of trainers (i have not owned anything you could term actual 'trainers' since I left school, and the days of PE behind). I mean, i could buy a motel dress! ok, its all for the greater good. I know. And i do really want to be a physio. just not for sporting reasons. I am sooo going to stick out like a sore thumb. when i went for my interview, i was the only person NOT wearing what they deemed 'appropriate physio wear'. But christ, you cant wear a tracksuit to an interview, even I know that. And i do NOT want to won a pair of 'addidas 3 stripes down the side' trackies in that nasty material.

And moral objections aside, theres the whole 'practical session thing'. For these, i have to wear a bra and shorts, no exceptions. which makes sense, cosyou need to see muscle movement and anaotomy clearly. BUt christ, my scars! I mean one of the reasons i cut on my tummy is cos its easy to hide, and this is making me panic a little. So today, i braved it out. I put on a sports bra and a pair of flowery shorts (which are made out of trackie cotton tyoe material.which is the nearest they gonna get, thankyou very much).

Looked in the mirror, and theres me, and my bloody bag with the million straps tying it to my leg. teeny pair of shorts on. they are from topshop, so almost indecently short. and yeh, you can see a lot of my scars. and at first i was like, fuck, i need proper granny 'up around your boobs' type shorts for this one.

and then, just like that, i thought fuck it. I dont care.and actually, i really dont. I'm already gonna be christened the bag lady during freshers week, and because my uni is based in a hospital, at least people (hopefully) wont give me too many funny looks. so whats a few scars gonna do? we all have em, either on our skin, or in our head. and if anyone asks, or stares, i plan to tell them that i tried to take my own kidney out, cos i got bored of waiting for the NHS to fix it, and missed a few times. Or that I watched 'extreme knitting' on you tube too many times, and decided to see if i could knit with my intestines. i think that might get the message across, dont you?!

in fact, i might even post a pic tomorow. Just to prove to myself thats its ok. that im ok, it will be ok. Cos the thing is, my scars tell a story, and that story, if you think about it, is all to do with getting better. and whats shameful about that?

xxx

happy birthday mum

i love you, but i wonder, i cant help it, how it could have been. all the things i should have, need to have said. i want to hold you tight and tell you how i feel. i want to scream and cry and yell at you for the way things were. I know it was the illness-but i cant help how i feel. And i needed you to love me. and you didnt. because i wasnt good enough.

I tried you know

I did everything you wanted. If you could see me now-what would you think? failure?well yes. But the thing is mum, I didnt want to do any of that stuff. I didnt want to go to vet school. And i wasnt brave enough to stick up for myself. Thats not your fault, not really. You wanted the best, i get that.But my best was never enough. And i dont blame you for what happened there, even though sometimes i get mixed up and hate you for pushing me so hard. i dont like that word, hate. But to be truthfull mum, I cant really think of another word. I love you. I do. I think I always did. But i dont understand. 

what lse would you think? becaue really-mum, i lived in a way yo never did. I took off on my own, made my own choices and got myself to here. someone told me the other day they cannot belive that im not more fucked up than i actually am. well, how would that make you feel? I've been listening to your song for 2 days straight now-stay ( i missed you) by lisa loeb. was there meaning for you?or did you just like it? its like a piece of a puzzle. cos im sitting here, mum, and im wondering what you used to think about. what happened in YOUR past. because you know what, you took it out on ME. and you didnt mean it, you were ill. And maybe you just wanted me to do the things you couldnt.

Noone in the family ever spoke about you and your sisters childhoods.what does that mean?all those walks with grandad in the woods, and i only ever got the happy, silly stories. of how you got a pram for your birthday and they had to buy jan one as well cos she took it off you. about your dolls.about how clever you were. but something mum, how did it get that way? nan doesnt talk about you. ever.

Do you remember when i broke my arm before the dublin trials. you didnt even come to A & E with me cos you were so pissed off.I'll tell you something shall I? I was 16 mum, and life was happening, but not to me. I broke it myself. I smashed it up with a metal pole and it never hurt enough to take away the pain of how much you hated me. I didnt want to ride, i didnt want to go to dublin and i didnt want to ride the new horse.  But I rode with a broken arm mum, cos the look on your face-i couldnt take it. the shit i nearly got in for that, the coach nearly got a ban from the sport. But it was ok as long as i won. was you pleased, impressed, proud? well, if you were, i never knew.

hell yeh i ran away from you. I came to you, when i got back form uni and i NEEDED you mum. I;d been hurt, abused, and you didnt belive me.i ached for the baby i lost, for everything i could have been. I needed you to tell me it was ok.

'you told me that i was naive, but i thought that i was stong'

well, turns out Lisas's right, eh?

and that, mum, is how i hate you and love you all at athe same time. theres so much i want to say. but whats the point. You chose your own fate-did you even think about anyone else? did you think how we would feel?

mum, the last thing you said to me was that i was a failure, a disapointment and that you hated me. I have to live with that.you got to die.

you know what mum-i want that to.its all i think about.im 26, and i feel like im having to start all over again. i should have had it all by now. but ive got nothing except a fucked up head. the oly reason im not dead right now is because i know how it feels to have someone kill themselves and not have the answers.

but mum, you know i dont believe in any of the religous stuff. Im sorry but i just dont. So i dont know where you are, or if you know what im thinking.

but i LOVE you mum. so so so much.

i miss you.and i wish you were here.
i wish we could have made it ok.

i love you so so much mum.dont ever forget.

xxxxxxxxxxx

repeat

I like listening to songs on repeat. it has this really calming effect on me, its soothing, and gradually all you can think about is the tune and the lyrics. today i have been listening to 'stay (i missed you) by Lisa Loeb over and over.I dont really know why, but i actually cant stop listening to it.

'you thought that i was naive, but i felt strong'
'you made me belive that i was wrong'

so relevant, but at the same time not.

i think repeat is a bot of an ongoing theme in mylife. its always the same. I actually cant take feeling this way fr much longer. And i know theres stuff to look forward to-but its just getting there that seems the impossible. please just dont tell me itl all be ok-because im sick of it. its bloody exhausting feeling this way. I dont want to, i want to feel like me, whatever that is. Or i want to be dead. theres no middle ground anymore. And yeh, i wont feel better overnight, but i dont know what else i can do-i just need a little shift in something to make it seem all worthwhile, but whatever i do, its just not happening.

2nd appt with EDS today. It was decided to not touch on any theraoy related issues right now (cs im ny words, i would actually end up dead), but instaed to focus on practical ssues and motivation to help me get out of this rut. which is actually a lot more helpful than i can explain. we talked a lot today about validation, and how everyone feels they want there feelings, whatever they are to be validated by others. And how ultimately, you just have to accept that whatever you feel, is valid, because thats how you feel. And about realising that no matter what help you have, you are ultimately on your own. actually, thats something ive known since i was about ten. fend for yourself, cos noone else will. And instead of talking about food, and portion size etc etc we talked about the reasons behind why i cant accept and register that information.

and it sums up like this-
i know exactly what all the diff food groups do for your body.i know the logic behind regular eating, and if i reallythought hard, i prob do know about portion size. accept i dont think it applies to me. and not because i think im special-but because i think i am a falilre if i 'give in' and eat. becasue hunger and emptyness=power and control and cnfidence. and thast the way its alwaysbeen-a power game. I think i dont need the 'normal' amounts, cut it down, go bonkers later and binge. and purging is cathartic, and brings about the control feeling from being empty. and tahst just the way it has always been. but its really intereting that i have neither ever before vocalised this, or actually properly acknowledged it. we also talked about si, and how with my bladder injury im really pushing the limits of staying out of hospital. and HTT are ready to give up an discharg me cos hey just dont know what to do with me anymore.i think ive been here before, somehow. and he talked about research linked to SI, and how the place you tended to cut was ndicative of your emotional issues-and apparantly its 'not surprising' that my stomach is my place of choice-very common for those who hav been abused apparanty. which was news to me, cos i cut there cos it hurts, has the potential to be v damaging and cannot be seen.

wow.im not fucked up in the slightest

xxx

i really tried to pull my shit together...

ok, so 10 mgs of diazepam later and im not really in a happy place. I have no energy left to do anything. I tried to call out of hours to tell them im about 2 steps away from killing myself and they hung up on me cos they couldnt make out what i was saying.That would be cos im crying. My life was always about acheivement-and yeh, i did it, i got into uni, into a pretty competeitve course (again). whats the point? well i dont know. My cath bag split and leaked all over me and my bed earlier, and i can tell you, being covered in piss does not help. neither does not knowing how long you have to make your 'emergency' bag last for. And it hurts. im telling you, having a plastic tube up your pee hole is just really really wrong, in ways i cannot begin to describe.

how many times do i have t communicate to this people that i feel really really bad for them to not tell me to just go and make a cup of tea.ive had enough.

I just dont know where to go from this.my friends treat me like shit. I cannt deal with the worlds problems as well as my own. and im sick of them berating me for this. what about me?how long do you want me to hold it together, fix everyone elses lives-unti i end up dead?would thatmake you happy?i cant do it.

i am going to drink some more diet coke, and take some more diazepam. I cant wait to go thorough my food diary at my appt tomorow.FAIL.

dont delay, enter today!!!

yeh, you might have noticed, i started writing here again. what can i say, i like this blog. But just have to remember not to read old posts unless im with a therapist hahaha

anway- click here to enter the best giveaway ever!!!

somehow, i never seem to be able to let this blog go...

i have no idea why...but i just dont feel right writing anywhere else.

so here i am once again. In future, its probably best to just ignore any 'this is my last post' type entries lol

so it went a bit like that...the actual last post this time:)

A good few months ago i thought about getting rid of this blog. And then somehow i found that i needed it again. and thats fine, and i guess it might happen again. But for now, I cant write here anymore-I'm not really sure why-I just cant.

and this is where im going to leave it. I thought a lot about whether to delete this blog in its entireity, but then thougth that woud be a bit like deleting my life. And then i thought id just make it a private journal-but-everyone has a story to tell. and i rekon there are a lot of people that dont know where to begin. So, im going to leave it here, and hope that anyone that stumbles across it realises that the hard bit is starting to talk. And that keeping everything inside only really hurts you more. So this blog is for anyone that has noone to listen-I thought i didnt either, but i found that if you can talk, then there is always someone, somewere that is willing to help.And if that seems to hard to believe-well just look at all the support i got here on my blog.

Ed will never be your friend, and self harm will get never get you anywhere new. something else i ultimately learnt-

when you have nothing left to lose, then surely all you can do is gain.

I think for a while, this blog saved my life. But now, I think its run its course.

if your interested-heres what happened next-

The good old knobcentre are still being knobs, and owe me over a grand in backpayments. My local hospital gave me every infection under the sun, so i feel like my body is a human incubater right now. I made some brilliant friends from this blog, who I get totally over excited about talking with:)

After i was discharged from the surgical ward a couple of weeks ago, I left a massive full on hissy fit on the ED service answer phone, dropping in words such as 'official complaint to trust director', and 'newspapers' and low and behold, they called me back the next day. It appears that my CPN is completely useless, and never refered me there properly. Im seeing the clinical director nextweek, to see what he thinks might work in terms of treatment.

Im not really sure if im moving to London. I'm still waiting for confirmation that I still have a place at St Georges or Kings College (seems occupational health aren't that down with my recent escapades). And im not really sure whats best for me right now. what I do know is this-If i have to stick around on this crappy planet (and the jury's still out on that one) then I am damn well going to be a physiotherapist. either that or a world famous fashion designer (just kidding).

I think your heart can be broken into a million pieces, but if you can hang on to a teeny bit of whats left, then maybe you can get through.

The court case-well I always knew it wasnt going to fix anything. And the fact that he's locked away doesnt change anything. Maybe I will get over it, maybe I never will. But as a fabulous CPN with HTT said the other day-'vics , you cant give up when you dont even know if you can get better-you've never had the help'. and thats right. It doesnt change how im feeling right now, but its a glimmer, yknow. But if you find this blog, and you've been through anything similar, then, well-I didnt just do it for me-I did it for everyone that never got the chance to fight back. thats something worth holding on too. And i could never have done it without everyone here-thankyou.and thankyou again.

I miss my mum like hell and it hurts-it pulls me into pieces that it all ended how it did. I wish i could change it, and i wish id done things different, and that i coud change the past. but all you can do is try and move forwards. and thats all anyone can expect of you.

if you find this blog, then i hope it helps. but just bear in mind it was written by someone who has a few teeny issues haha. oh, and i make no apologies for the awful spelling and grammer!

and im posting these pics again cos i want to end with them

im not disappearing off blog planet-i just cant write here anymore. I think it needs a good few years-and a therapist before i can think through this stuff properly.

you can find me now at- confessions of a concealaholic, which will be the usual witterings of my life, and at pretty bows and borrowing grannies clothes, which im going to dedicate to outfit posts, clothes and my soon to be shop!

I feel kinda sad. this blog means a lo to me, but i think its run its course. please follow me on my new blog! cos i love you all <3

much love and kisses  to all you fabulous people

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Always bear this in mind...

you cant argue with Roald Dahl

ahhhh... now it all makes sense....

I haven't been going insane, just cos, well, I am-I've been going nuts because apparantly I am an incubator for every infection known to Treliske hospital. If you've ever wondered-fact-if your temperature gets high cos your all infected and manky, you literally go bat shit insane from the pain of it.

Its quite reasuuring to know there is a medical reason as to why i feel like i want to die, rather than just my brain telling me i want to die. Gives me some space to think, y'know.

Total infection count
- I mega infected wound. which, ok, clearly i didnt really help with this one. But funnily enough, having the dresses changed by a nurse on a soaking wet bed (my cath bag sorung a leak, having not been emptied for so long, it decided to empty itself) didnt really improve the situation.
-Generalised ickyness from above infection spread across entire tummy.
-A kidney infection. Probably caused by their inability to realise my kidneys are not designed to continuosly be forced to hold 2 litres of pee.
-Tonsilitis, im sure i can think of a way to blame them for that. And a gammy ear infection, dont forget that one!

I dont feel very well.

I am incubating every germ known to mankind right now. Oh?and the reason i still cant pee?they failed to realise that part of my muscle was some place it really shouldnt have been.

But hey, at least my CPN cant whine that im just being miserable now-who the heck wouldnt be!!

I want drugs and i want lots of them, NOW!

well, look where it got me

years of weight control and misery.
years of trying to make my mum SEE me.
doing the things she wanted me to do; to be the best. horses-it couldnt jusy be a hobby.i had to be the best. Fuck it, for a while i was the best as well. not that it got me anywhere.
School-10 A/A* GCSE's, 4 A grade A levels.
A place at the countries top Vet school

and for what?


nothing, thats what. a year and a bit of a degree that counts for jack shit.  A depression that wont shift, follows me wherever i go. Rape. i thought uni was my new chance to be away from my family, to just be. well thanks you dickshit. cos you didnt just rape me.you stole me reason, you stole my dreams and you trashed them with no thought. and thats even worse. you made me hate myself more than i could imagine was even possible. I wake up everyday dying from the guilt of ending that pregnancy. My baby would have been 5 by now. that HURTS. and you dont know, and dont care. i dont care you are in prison. you ruined everything for me.that was my chance to get away from my messed up family, my ties with everything. I had plans, i was going, was changing i could have done it, i could. and you had the balls to look at me like the piece of shit you think i am in court. I hope they beat the shit out of you in there.i hope they make your life a living hell. Do you ever think about me?about the other girls?do you have a conscience?why did you do it?why did you torment me for so long.you oculdnt even just leave it at that. your sick and twisted. you put your name down for my practical group, i know why you swapped with nial.im not stupid. you wanted to make sure id stay quiet.well you needed have worried, cos no one gave a shat anyway.

I woke up cold one night, suddenly relasing why none of my clothes fit; why i felt sick and tired. and the first thing i thought was-im not on my own.i thought i was all this time.but i had my baby. he was surving too.Dorian, i would have called him. the second thing i did was be violently sick because of how the baby got there.

do you know how i knew it was a boy?because i SAW him.i saw the baby, i gave birth to your baby.do you have any idea how traumatic it is to go through a late termination, to see a scan picture, the little babies foot, hes hand in front of his face.well he got that right.id hide form you too. do you know what its like ti be in labour for 16 hours knowing its for nothing. whats its like to see the baby they dont take from you fast enough. to wait desperately, just in case its all a mistake, and the baby cries. begging praying, crying screaing that you didnt do it. i cant leave with the fact hat i did that. from love, overwhelming love at not being alone, a survivor with me, to repulsio that i now cant justify, to love and regret when its all to late.

i hate you. i wish you were dead. you've killed me piece by piece for years. Now, well, i know i dont want to be alive anymore.whats the point when yo wake up everyday hating yourself a little more every single fucking day.

you had the nerve to look me in the eye in court.you fucking wanker. how dare you. you took everything that was left of me.

you have no idea what you did to me. baby dorian.does that make you feel guilty?i fucking hope it does. YOU did that to me. no comment?no,i bet you fucking havnt.

this is where you have got me-
a suicidal deresion
an even worse eating disorder, fuelled by even more self hatred
PTSD
atually, its niteven worth it,you have no concscience anyway.

i hope you go to hell. and i hope that your life is made as miserable as possible.

i'm not a very nice person right now

fact.

I writing self indulgent blog posts because i feel really alone. which makes me feel bad.so please dont wrote me nce comments, because i dont really deserve it. I'm taking my stress out on my best friends. who have their own stuff, and i know they do-i really do-but i still keep doing it anyway.which makes me a massive bitch. i fall to pieces inexplicably, or im stroppy and horrible to be around. I dont mean to but i worry the people i care for most by apparantly appearing off the face of the earth for a while, hiding myself away in my nest like flat. and i just feel so unable to do anything that i cant even manage to tell them im ok.its not deliberate-i honestly mean it when i say that i dont want the attention or anything-it just seems impossible to call someone, to energy expending. i've lost myself and turned into this horrid new version of me.

i love my friends.but i dont know how to be with them. Theres nothing but this massive weight pulling me down, dragging me along, and i just cant engage. its not that i dont care about their new hairdo, a party they went to last night, their boy issues, the everyday things friends talk about, clothes, makeup, girlyness, music-i just appear to have lost the ability to really HEAR and take it in. im not self centered enough to think im the only person with isssues-cos to heck im not, and people have it soooo much worse, people feel worse than i do.

but at the same tired im tired and bored.im bored of feeling this way, and im bored of how mundane my life is.im bored of myself-how it takes me about 3 hours to get out of bed in the morning and face the day (afternoon/evening), how i spend the day worrying about food, crying and crying until im exhauseted because i cant do anything els.i sleep and sleep because tied isnt even the word anymore.to be fair im probably a lot safer when im asleep. the idea of yet.another.day.of.this makes the thought of carrying on impossible.

i feel ill. i ache, i literally hurt because im upset so much-weird i know, youd never have thought grief could cause physical pain, but apparntly its not uncommon. im going to go insane if  i cant get the 'cant pee' thing sorted soon, becaue i feel like im dragging around 2 litres of pee with me everywhere i go.which gets pretty sore.

the only people i manage to convey any of this too is the people i feel able to talk with from HTT-unfortunately none of them can actually make the decisions to keep me on the caseload. which is shit considering they are probably keeping me alive right now.

so there you go.thats me-a bit of aa bitch really.im horrid to my friends, i get shitty with care workers for not being able to help me more, and im so upset that i have cleary dissapointed the people from htt that help me most, by 'that incident' which kanded me with a nice stay in a surgical ward.im trying.im just not very good it seems.

ive been awake for an hour and a half now.

which by my impeccible estimation, means its time for me to go back to bed.

until hopefully 3 days or so's time.

i dont know how to feel ok again. its done, its over.i should feel better. but honesty-and pease please belive me-i have never fet so depressed(like medically depressed) in my life.i cant shake it off,i cant get away from it and its constantly pulling me down no matter what i try and do. I want to be well;i want to be better-but i cabt get out of this.

im so sad-literaly.how do you grieve for someone you spent so long hating.how awful does that make me.how can you not like your mum?i miss her.but i dont know what to do with this mixed up feelings. and thats what making me hurt myself. all i ever wanted. needed was for her to even slightly care.

i spent 6 years trying to forget what happened in liverpool, and now its there in my head and it wont go away.the verdict doesnt matter-it never did to me really.but it did knock me more than i thought it would.

i wish i wish i wish i wish i wish mum didnt die thinkng i hated her,i wish that i knwe what she felt about me-cos the last time i spoke ot was anger, and she was ashamed of mefor not mkimg more of myself.

i just wanted mum to care,its all i ever wanted.
im so sad.and im ready now to give up
xxxx

verdict

Life Imprisonment.parole after 15 years.

found guilty of 2 counts of rape.not 4.
4 drug offences
and some other stuff i dont want to mention

realisation

So, i got home today from hospital. I have a trendy, top of the range new accessory, a catheter bag, which is strapped to my leg.

So all, in all, i think i handed the court case well, obviously.

I tell you what really makes you question yourself though-

when you walk in to the wreckage that is your house ( trying to do yourself in is a messy business, after all), go in to the kitchen, and spend half an hour gazing at the the fish tank, worrying that my FISH look depressed and unwell. And that instead of clearing up, i change the filter on the tank, change the water, give them medicine, and food. I watch them and wonder what makes them happy, and think what might make me happy. and draw a complete blank.unless....unlesss

Go and puke my guts up in a fit of anxiety. and think about starting the whole messy process all over again. I'm not ill though-the hospital said i was fine, and of course, they are always right. And apparantly stupid too, because they discharged me with 3 months worth of meds, and a bloody lot of diazepam-which puzzles me, if im supposedly 'not ill'. I dont think im ill-i just think im messed up me.I've always been this way. just to varying degrees.

i think its time jon-paul and ray quinn found a new home (the fish.dont mock them, they are sensitive about their names).

it appears im not a suitable 'parent or gaurdian'.