Friday, December 29, 2006

Day 131 and the 11 previous days - part 4

I didn't go to London on Thursday - Day 123.

I spent the day in bed feeling guilty and stupid and pathetic.

Friday, Day 124 - I spent tidying the house and making ready for my Dad (step dad) to come and pick me up and drive me and my small charge (the hamster) to the Highlands for Christmas.

Christmas Day was difficult - I started handwriting a diary that day and it reads as follows:

"Self harming on Christmas day. Good move."

A large, repetitive scratch from wrist almost to elbow, on the upside of my left arm. Hardly festive.

The next few days followed with eating turkey and brussel sprouts, and having cake for breakfast. Naps in the afternoons and copious amounts of Diazepam.

Day 129, Wednesday 27th December. Diary entry:

"I feel as though I should start writing again, I think I want to but I don't know how.
I don't know what I want to write and don't feel I want to write without knowing that.
My bullshit detector is running a thousand miles an hour.
All I can think of is honesty.
I want to be honest.
So many things have happened in the last two weeks. People have died. No people I know personally - but family members of friends of mine.
I cannot help thinking blessed peace."

Yesterday, Day 130, was the hardest of all - my diary entry reads:

"I hate -- ------.
I can't even look at her.
She told me I was lazy and didn't deserve benefit and that she was jealous that I got benefits.
Jealous of someone who self harms and wants to kill themselves. Nice.
I cried myself to sleep this afternoon [mum stayed with me so I would not self harm again] and got up and was public face to her - even helped her home with her stuff. That was so not honest.
If I had been honest I would have stayed out of her way until she left and not even said goodbye.
I cannot believe how much she hurt and shocked me."

Today is Day 131 and I am back at home in my flat. It was difficult to leave. Especially when I was coming home to celebrate New Year. I don't have much to celebrate.

Mum drove down with me and is now lying on my couch, full of the cold, coughing like a trooper and watching Judi Dench in a rather risque film. I had to leave the room. Too many bosoms to view with my mother sitting beside me.

Yesterday's events are still fresh in my mind and troubling me a great deal.

1 Comments:

Blogger MasterQ said...

Very glad to see you're writing again. Hang in there girl.

4:14 am  

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