I know I haven’t been writing much lately. This is mostly due to me being dragged out every single day by my friend, cos, you know, if they see me in person then I must be doing OK… right?
I have my interview for college on Wednesday morning at 10am. I really do want to do the course, but right now I want to hurt/die/escape even more.
People keep commenting on how well I look. I don’t feel well so I don’t get how I look well. I think I’m learning it’s much easier to say yes I’m fine thanks than I’m feeling like absolute shit. They don’t question you when you say you are fine thanks, they just smile and say that’s good. On the other hand if you say you are feeling shit they quiz you over and over again about what is wrong.
I don’t want to be quizzed. I want them to think I’m doing better. I want them to think I want to live. Because I thought if I did all of that then I actually would start feeling better. But I don’t.
Really what I want to do is run to the shops before they close, obtain some sharp blades and tear my flesh apart. I’ve been stocking up on tablets again. I don’t have a huge amount, perhaps 100 paracetamol and a few strips of Zopiclone a friend gave me. But maybe it would be enough to get some peace for a while. Maybe it would be enough to stop my own misery.
But I know what everyone says and that is that I’m doing so much bloody better these days and how I’ve got all these new things like college to look forward to and blah blah fucking blah.
The reality is I don’t want to be here any longer, I just don’t think I’ve got the balls to do the job properly.