Catch up

I haven't written for a few days. I have been very tired and just not really felt like I have had anything to write about. Things are not getting any easier. Having said that, I think there has been change over the last few weeks, but I couldn't say whether it was good or bad. A few weeks ago I was completely exhausted, to the point where it was difficult to do things like move my head. My thinking was really slowed down, and I knew I felt really terrible, but I think I was too tired to actually do anything about it. Now I am still exhausted, but not in quite the same way. I don't really know if I could explain the difference, but it is different. And my brain is definitely different. It is filled with thoughts. Racing thoughts. Constant thinking and planning and plotting. I think I seem better to other people - certainly L has commented that visibly I don't seem as bad as I did a few weeks ago. I think that is largely because I have recovered the ability to talk in full sentences, which is of course a good thing. But I actually feel far more at risk now than I did then. I am much more on edge. I am having to take a lot more Diazepam to try and calm me down and slow my thoughts a bit. I feel like I am actually a much greater risk to myself now than I was a few weeks ago, even if I appear better to others.

It is the play this week. I am not looking forward to it. This is all wrong. I used to love performing. Being on stage gave me such a buzz. When I was growing up I was only happy when I was at rehearsals, or performing. That was the only part of life that interested me. Now I don't even have that. I said I couldn't make the rehearsal friday because I was ill. That was a lie - I just couldn't face it. I had to go sunday as I didn't feel like I could let people down by missing yet another rehearsal, but it was crap. I wasn't in the mood at all - I was completely lost in my thoughts. I just phoned it in. I also got very faint in the middle of the rehearsal and had to sit down for a few minutes. I am not sure what that was about. I got like it again at ballet today. I have quite a heavy period at the moment so I am wondering if it is related to that. Either that or I am ill. The weird thing is, that much as I hate this play, in a way it is keeping me going. I have been having such strong suicidal thoughts over the last few days, particularly friday and saturday, but I am acutely aware that I would be letting down the rest of the cast, and I can't do that. I have the tech rehearsal tomorrow night, and then the dress on wednesday, and then performances thursday, friday and saturday. And then it will be over. Thank goodness. I feel like it is taking too much of my energy, and I don't have enough as it is. Plus of course the feeling obliged to stay alive thing just makes me really resent the whole thing.

My mum picked up my Zopiclone on saturday. Unfortunately she is following the little note that my GP scribbled all over it and giving me one tablet every other night. Which basically does fuck all. Considering I have been taking 30mg a go lately when I have dipped into my stash, and not even been knocked out by that, I think it is fairly obvious why 7.5mg isn't doing a lot. Or anything at all really. This is pretty unfortunate. I am now thinking that since they don't work I may as well not take them and just add them to the stash so that I can either take a few at a time when I really want to sleep, or use them to overdose on. Sleep is still a problem. I am having trouble getting to sleep, which isn't anything new, but I am waking up a ridiculous ammount, and I just still feel so tired when I wake up. And I look tired too. I have black circles under my eyes, and bags. People keep commenting on how tired I look. I am never quite sure what the aim is when people say that. I am usually aware that I look like crap, and someone reminding me doesn't really help. And how are you meant to respond?

The weekend was really hard. Friday night I came very close to overdosing. Much closer than I have for a long time. Actually probably the closest I have got since I last did overdose. Then I got into a complete state on Saturday - I was convinced that L was going to stop seeing me, and the thought of that just sent me into complete turmoil. I know I will have to deal with it at some point, but right now I just can’t think about me. It just really fuelled my fears of abandonment enormously and I just got so worked up and I just couldn’t calm myself down for hours – I was just sobbing completely uncontrollably for ages and ended up with a splitting headache as a result of it. It also made the suicidal thoughts even stronger, because the thought of trying to cope on my own just feels so completely impossible. It is hard enough to keep going at the moment as it is, and without support I just couldn’t do it. And then I was also thinking that I should kill myself because I feel like I am such a nuisance and if I was dead then she wouldn’t have to see me, nobody would. But then I got really scared about what would happen if I tried to kill myself and it didn’t work, and would I end up with no support then. And round and round in circles my brain went. It does worry me how I can get so dependent on somebody. I get so that I really rely on people, and then if/when I lose them I find it incredibly hard to deal with. I think it is partly because I find it so difficult to trust people – I could count on one hand the number of people I have ever completely trusted, and whose judgement I would always believe. Actually, I would probably only need 2 fingers for the people I have trusted absolutely, and then a couple more fingers for people I have trusted, but not to quite that extent. I wonder if that is ‘normal’ or not.

I have semi made a decision on America. Primarily due to pressure from my parents. Well I don't think they intended it as such. My dad asked me if I had made up my mind, and I said no, and he asked why not and didn't I need to decide. It seems that grabbing my teddy bear, bursting into tears and repeatedly saying 'I can't talk about that now, please close the door' made him think it wasn't a good idea for me to go to America for a month. My parents basically said that if I was in that much doubt about whether or not to go, then it probably wasn't a good idea, as I would just end up getting more and more worked up about it. They have a point. But I now feel like a failure. Naturally. I tried to persuade my mum last night how much better off she would be without me. I asked if she wished she had never had me. She said parents don't think about that. I said that I was now making her think about that, and did she wish she hadn't had me. Apparently she doesn't wish that. Neither does she wish I would disappear, which I have felt was a good idea ever since watching a documentary last week about a man who tried to disappear for a month to see if it was possible. I thought I could pretend to disappear, and nobody would be worried about me because I would be disappeared, and I could then kill myself, and nobody would know, and therefore nobody would be upset. I didn't share the killing myself part of the plan with my mum - just the rest of it, but she didn't like it. I suppose she has to say that really though. She can't really say to me that it was a massive mistake having me, and of course she wishes she hadn't, because that would sound a bit mean. Although I did say that I wish she hadn't had me, which is possibly also a bit mean, but true. That is what I want more than anything else. To just not exist.