Self harming dyke
Ad 2:
2002-01-09 14:17:37 (UTC)


Mood: ???
Music: none
Cuts: lots last night on left wrist

I feel so confused at the moment. It is almost easy to
pretend that things are fine when you have to, but then I
remember that they are not. My head is so full of all the
fuck-ups and shit that keep going on. I just wish that I
was a little bit more like everyone else.

I don't know why I come into work really. I don't actually
do much and I get the feeling that no-one would notice if I
didn't bother. One day I will just stay in bed and see how
long it takes for anyone to come looking for me. Probably
just be my landlady looking for rent. In fact, I do know
why I keep coming to the office. I am ever-hopeful that
things will get normal and my life will go on. If this
happens I don't want to have caused undue problems for the
me who has the good stuff. I mean, if I keep coming in
here, at least I would be able to say that I was doing the
Stage, even if I don't have any real physical work done to
prove it.

I hate the way I feel at the moment and I know that I can't
tell anyone. It is constant and me just worrying others
doesn't get rid of it. All that happens is I get weary of
them trying to help and they get weary of there being no
progress until the point where I pretend that it is all
better and they have helped. That is easier. Then, for a
while, you put a smile on and walk around telling them how
they have been so helpful and how everything is cool now.
Then they feel happy that their duty is done and can be
glad that they have helped. Meantime, you realise that you
can never talk to them again. If they knew that you were
still unhappy they would think that you were awkward and
attention seeking, and you are afraid that they would find
out that you had *pretended* to be OK and they had actually
not helped at all. So then you move on. Inevitably it keeps
on building and, although you managed to cope with the
levels before in order to keep up the pretence, you do get
to a point where, once again, you are behaving oddly and
feel desperate. You break and tell someone and so it begins
again. I have now got to a point where I won't involve
anyone else because it won't help. But I can't cope with
the way I feel inside. It isn't any way to live, is it?
Keeping on with things because I have to. I know that this
can't last a lot longer. Last night I felt very close to
just saying fuck it. If the pills had been there I might
have just shut my eyes and slept forever. I don't want to
be this person. I want to be able to enjoy things the way
people think I am and not be pretending all the time... I
know that what I need most right now is to talk to a
counsellor, but I also know that I can't put this into
words except here, written down in this little diary.

I don't honestly know what to do any more, but I imagine
that it will keep on the way it is, until the Stage ends
and I have nothing to do with my life. At that point you
are *allowed* to be depressed. If you don't have the
wonderful Stage to go to day in day out, then people are
more understanding. Now I am just a selfish bitch.