The end.

I want it to be the end. The end of my existence. A fire of darkness has just burnt me, deep. The pools of my eyes swim across the acres of land which are barely skimming the surface of life. A sudden urge of suicide has lurked it’s way through the swamps of my body into my brain. My whole existence has revolved around others, I just want to sleep for eternity. The heavens peace is calling me away from the promiscuous environment I have engulfed myself with it will account for the palliative relief’s. 

The vindictive remarks are slowly digging me a grave, deeper and deeper. The constant reminder of being insufficient and inadequate ..something will always be amiss. 

I think it may be time to finish writing my last few pages and close the book, for good.

Bruised for life.

Once upon a time. . .

I lied about my age to an eighteen year old when I was twelve or thirteen and then again when I was fourteen – I told him I was sixteen I’ve always been more mature than my age. Events have happened which have ultimately enabled me to grow up quicker than most people. I had the mentality of a sixteen year old, I felt no harm in stating I was this age.

We dated. It was nice. I felt loved. Until the day he started to pin me against the wall and beat me. 

The first week or so was grand. We had a lovely time, alone. We spent hours smoking spliffs, enjoying the sun and talking about life. Our problems never mattered and we just felt at peace.

One warm day, I had to be home. I told him I had to leave, he wasn’t happy. He demanded me I had to stay, which I couldn’t. He pushed me against the wall, dug his large hands down, deep into my hip bone and told me I had to stay. Repeatedly, I told him I needed to go. He then reached for my collar bones, pushed them deeper into the wall, I was just glad he didn’t go for my neck. I looked into his eyes, pleading with him telepathically to stop. His eyes beamed a sense of evil which I never believe I could see in him. 

Several incidents like this took place. I finally realised I couldn’t take it much longer. After sleepless nights and weeks of coming up with excuses to my bruises – I had to get rid of him.

Dreading his reaction, my heart pumping and my whole world spinning. I told him we were over, for good. His facial expression looked confused. He had such a naive look to him that I was contemplating if I was in the wrong. I didn’t want to hear anything from him, I ran.

I ran all the way home and blocked any communication from him.

Surprisingly, we never bumped into each other. I never saw him, it was great. I found a new boyfriend, who I presumed I loved and everything was great. Until, me and my new boyfriend split up. My darling abusive ex somehow had heard the news and slithered his way back into my life. After days begging for another chance, I gave him one.

I was back with him. The abuse continued.

I once again, quicker this time, realised I had made a bad decision. I again, dumped him. This time, I didn’t run fast enough.

On hearing what I said he began to hug me, too hard that I couldn’t breathe. I told him to stop. He let me go and then once again, pushed me against the wall. I told him I wasn’t going to take this. I didn’t deserve it. I told him, I had to go. I pleaded and begged. He grabbed my wrist. I was struggling too hard, my wrist suddenly snapped. I felt the bone inside crumble and I couldn’t move. I froze and so did he. I told him that this time, he really needed to go. He did.

I went home crying, complaining how I had ‘fell down the stairs’ and my wrist hurt. I went to the hospital. It was, indeed, broken. 

I never have heard from him since. I’ve bumped into him a few times, my heart starts beating so hard that I think he could hear it but he doesn’t even dare look at me.

This explains a lot.

B x

Day off.

Tuesday 9th July, 2013.

4.12pm

Hi again,

I got a day off today. Anxiety levels are too high to even leave my bedroom. It’s just one of those days where even my kitchen brings me into a spiral of panic.

I love these official days off where I’m aloud to relax. Knowing I do not have to face the outside, don’t have to face the cunts called humans.

I’ve been receiving a lot of support already which I’m really shocked about. It’s a lovely feeling knowing I’m writing to people who can empathise and care, who genuinely seem to enjoy my writing.

I feel like I’m in a ball at the moment. I like this ball. The thought of the outside makes me panic and it just is such an uncomfortable thought right now.

I will be writing later in regards to some experiences I’ve had in the past. It should be interesting.

B x

Today.

8th July, 2013. 

8.27pm

I don’t feel like I just lived a day nor do I want to live another.

I feel as if this world which isn’t so big is against me. Every single member of it. They’re all part of a club who have decided to make my life hell – one way or another. My family, friends, peers and teachers never fail to make me feel suicidal. Ever.

I’ve been told to kill myself several times today if only they knew how this just confirmed my thoughts. The thought of sleeping forever seems so comforting, I believe I’m on the verge of breaking already. It’s been months and months, years and years.. I’ve always wanted to be dead. I will, one day. I can freely announce on here it’s pretty much definite that the cause of my death will be suicide. That’s weird, isn’t it?

I also got called chubby, now that’s a first! I didn’t really know how to process it as people tend to be still be concerned abut my weight due to my past of anorexia. No one has freely commented that I’m chubby. That was a reality shock. A few months starving won’t do no harm ,eh.

Asdfghjkl.

B x

Define Anxiety.

Anxiety

Noun A feeling of worry, nervousness, or unease, typically about an imminent event or something with an uncertain outcome. Desire to do something, typically accompanied by unease.

Bolloks.

Anxiety a feeling of ‘worry’ ..Is worry another word for hell?

A spiral of never ending black which has a hint of suicide which can pop up any time. Anxiety. Ha! If only those ‘normal’ people could have a panic attack. Just once. I have to deal with them everyday. Luckily, after months and months of therapy I’ve adapted the majority of my panic attacks to become unnoticeable to the general public. It’s brilliant.

I’m freaking out. My visions blurred. My palms are sweating and I just want to get out. It’s funny how no one notices. It’s funny how my existence is ignored or un-seen. That’s London for you, anyway.

London. London is the worst place to suffer from Anxiety. Believe me.

The transport is packed, you’re constantly sniffing someones armpit or have your face squished against the glass door. There are too many unnecessary enclosed places, even parks! Argh.

Anxiety is hell. It’s not only the short term affects like panic attacks, it’s the long term which screws everyone over. It’s the way you come across. It’s the way you treat people. It’s the way no matter how hard you try you can never feel like anybody would ever love you for yourself. You’re always concerned there is someone better or you aren’t good enough for whatever you want.

Anxiety is that little voice which is constantly putting you down. It’s that voice in your head when you’re having a good day which reminds you that your life is shit. It’s the voice of the devil.

Anxiety limits you everyday, throughout the day. No matter where you are, what you’re doing or who you’re with. This little monster will be with you. It will nudge you to say that your boyfriend is cheating on you and will give you a quick reminder that you’re going to die old alone. It’s the voice that makes your whole life panic.

Anxiety will be the death of me.

B x

Temptations in the bath.

Whilst I look down at the white lines on my arm which distract people from my face, my blood begins to boil. I suddenly feel like I need to self harm. I want to feel the pure blood dripping around me, creating a pool of blood in my bed.

I want to calm down, I head to the bathroom. I twist the silver handle until the water flows out. I thought this was an escape however, a bathroom is the worst place to run. Surrounded by knives, razors, blades and tweezers my hands begin to shake. I can feel the voices inside my head echoing that I need to calm down, I can feel the sweat dripping down my face making me aware I’ve lost track of time.

I look down and the bath water is dripping at my feet. The same sensation I wish to feel but with blood.

I need to go for a walk.

B x

Three.

Sunday 7th July, 2013. 

7.39PM

Dear you lot,

I spent a good hour or so on omegle attempting to promote this private blog. I passed through many  dicks and many strange human beings. I had to convince several people my link was not in fact a virus, merely a teenagers blog.

I’ve already have several comments stating I don’t ‘seem’ like I have any form of anxiety or what not. I will be discussing the full impact of these Mental Health Issues in separate entries.

I currently feel quite up beat but I’m again, dreading tomorrow. I already feel intimidated by a group of people who are clearly extremely angry at me. I have a few stories to tell you people. You may get a few tonight, you may not.

B x

Two.

Sunday 7th July 2013 

2.08pm

Dear everyone,

I got a few hours kip. My friend has left my house, finally and I’m in bed with the fan blowing against my silky smooth body. I find it kind of relaxing blogging. It’s the secrets and mysteriousness which comes about from it. If anyone found this, I’d be fucked!

I went to a social gathering yesterday. As per usual I had to walk off several times because my anxiety became too much asdfghjkl. I will begin to write sections of my life in parts on here so you guys and I know exactly what my life is/was life, what I’ve been through emotionally and physically which leads to the reasons why I’m so fucked up. Argh.

B x

One.

Sunday 7th July, 2013. 

10.20AM

People things..

It is 10.21am, I haven’t slept all night yet again but this time it wasn’t merely my fault. I pretty much got kicked out my bed by my big ass fat friend. Dude, she seriously needs to cut down on the kfc. That seems like a really bitchy remark however, I’m only being bitchy because she’s stolen my bed and I’m too nice to wake the bitch up!

My parents are cooking food – smells good but I am constantly getting reminding how much weight I’ve been gaining. I was anorexic for four years so generally people attempt statements about my weight as compliments – the majority of the time it comes out as an insult and I believe I will quickly slip into old habits.

I’m falling asleep at my laptop – fuck this asdfghjklkjhgfds

B x

Introduction.

Sunday 7th July, 2013. 

Dear readers,

Here is an introduction to what you will be seeing.. I currently have been diagnosed with anxiety and depression. I self harmed and was anorexic for years and to be honest, I think I may be on this site just to vent! I will attempt to post everyday – seeing as I have no life that seems to be a very simple thing to do.

I’ve been through a lot within my beautiful years of living on this planet and several times I have tried to take my own life which clearly, did not work. I hope people enjoy reading my story day by day and get to know me and understand me along with it. If I can support you any way please feel free to comment etc.

Alright, m’off.

B x