I'm not living, only killing time

16th August
Ok so I tried sitting down on my bed with my laptop on my knee watching 'The Day After Tomorrow' purely for some sort of distraction. Just now I don't like to be left alone with my thoughts for too long or bad things start to happen, I start to do bad things - watching crap movies is not one of my better distractions I admit. But I couldn't do it, I switched to the Internet in offline mode to browse through my favourites - looking for some literature I saved offline the other day. I flipped to the 'Blogs' category in my favourites, I came to Staying Straight Edge - Spencer's blog. I hadn't read it for ages, always being too preoccupied when I was online but I sat and I read right up to where I left off and learnt a lot, a hell of a lot. This guy is 30 years old and just rediscovering his happiness, lost a long time ago, and it made me start to think.
Of course when I start to think it has potentially damaging effects so I turned on some music and got up a new wordpad document to write something for my blog, rather than just think and get carried away and do god-knows what. I was thinking about the future, mine in particular. The other night I was talking to a wise someone about getting off Guernsey and away, away from the confines of this tiny place, away from the hurt and the pain. But at the time I was thinking along the lines of you know, two years in the future - going to Uni; Spencer's blog made me think further. Maybe too far. My mind is in overreactive mode just now, it gets paranoid and carried away, yet it can't see 14 years into the future. I was sitting down and thinking 'oh fuck I can't see any future'. You can all dismiss it and say of course I have a future, of course I won't one day give up and throw it all in, but although I will listen to you, I won't hear what you're saying, at very least I won't believe you - not because of lack of trust in you, more lack of trust in myself and disgust at myself.
I don't know how many people I've told and been reassured by but the fact remains that writing this blog, truthfully, is one of the most difficult things I've ever made myself do. I've skiied black runs and abseiled from great heights, I've climed a 40 foot mast and gone on trapeze in 35kt winds - but I wasn't scared. Right now I am scared, I'm scared of what people will think, I'm scared of my thoughts, I'm scared I'm imagining all of this and I'm scared of myself. Telling people that via this post is hard, writing this and actually publishing it on the blog is hard, getting out of bed in the morning is hard, avoiding that full packet of paracetamol is hard, averting my eyes from that corner of my desk is hard. I have a friend who texts me every evening, congratulating me on getting through another day - she's proud of me for doing it, and she listens when I tell her that considering certain factors I think I've failed overall. I'm not saying she's the only one who helps me, and she doesn't understand me - unlike someone else I know who understands me so much it makes me cry sometimes, just it's one of those tiny things I can only hope to hold onto.
It seems so long ago that I sat in my old dining room, shaking, telling someone I wasn't ok. Worse still it doesn't seem to have got any easier, my current thought is that it's getting harder and harder. The only consolation in that is that I can't have hit the bottom yet - because I believe until I hit fucking rock-bottom, I can't come back. *Maybe you'll never come back you idiot* That's the voice in my head, that's what I'm up against.
This post was full of good intentions. It was going to be a relief and insightful and have a meaning, it was going to give you insight into how I feel. I have failed.
I have just been downstairs for dinner, dinner I didn't want. My Mum sits opposite me and watches every mouthful, makes me eat every last bit so I'm left feeling totally sick, it's all I can do not to make myself sick. Surely if you're not hungry you shouldn't have to eat? It's not ungratefulness, it's, well I don't know what it is. I don't know anything. I'm sorry. I have a confession, I've been grappling with it for the past hour and I've finally decided to just write it down, last night/this morning I sat down and wrote notes to my Mum, Dad, You guys and the rest of my friends and family. I wrote notes apologising for who I am, I wrote them to say sorry, to tell people I love them. Hopefully they won't ever be seen because they were that type of note, but at least now I known that I'm covered in all eventualities.
That's it for today. Take Care. x x x (PS Thanks Davey for reminding me of the song which contains the lyric that this post derives it's name from.)

17th August

Last night after I finished writing I went downstairs for some distractions, I didn't get any. Instead I found myself listening to my Mum talk about my GCSE results and her Brother's wedding in which I have an active role, my Dad. Inside of me I wanted to reach over and just make her stop, it all seemed so mundane and pointless compared to how I felt, I wanted to do anything to make her stop talking. Instead I kept nodding in the right places and pretending I was listening. Then I went upstairs totally disgusted at my own thoughts.
I did something so stupid up there that I'm ashamed to write it here, I can't write it. Apparently some things aren't just hard, they're impossible. Immediately after though I phoned a friend and she helped me calm down and gave me advice, we talked for 45 minutes until I apparently started going quiet and the next thing she knew I must have passed out or something. I awoke, late, this morning to about 15 messages urging me to call her as soon as I could. Today I just felt so ill all day, I got to work late which I, naturally, got a bollocking for. Which pissed me off. I'm their most punctual, attentive, fast-working student temp but as soon as I'm half an hour late they fucking yell at me. Bastards.
Sometimes, at home, I find it hard to grasp that there are actually people around me going about their normal lives, I forget that just because my life is crumbling it doesn't mean theirs change, but I don't show it to them - I don't think. I can't do or else I would have got a million comments from Mum by now.
I don't know what else to say today, and I'm worried about making this too long. So I'll leave you with the aforementioned reading for my Uncle's second wedding because it's something I would love to believe someday but I don't see how I can.
Take Care. x x x

Now you will feel no rain for each of you will be shelter for the other,
Now you will feel no cold, for each of you will be warmth to the other,
Now there will be no loneliness, for each of you will be companion to the other,
Now you are two persons, but there are three lives before you, His life, Her life and your life together.
May beauty surround you, both in your journey ahead and through the years.
May happiness be your companion to the place where the river meets the sun, and
May your days together be good and long upon this earth.

If your parents believe that, still, or you imagine yourself believing that someday then I really fucking envy you, I really do. Sorry.

18th August 12:44pm

Home from work for lunch. Writing this will make me late I expect but somethings can't wait. If I don't type some rubbish I won't make it through the four hours I have left when I get back. I ate a raspberry Alpen bar for lunch, because raspberries are better than strawberries. It was good. Ok you can tell I have nothing to say, so I'll write some more later.
(19th Aug) I forgot to write some more, or I couldn't think of what to say and I'm publishing this today anyway.
x x x