I feel utterly broken. If the children weren't here I'd probably do something, not sure what, but something negative.
I'm wearing that proverbial mask again to show on the outside I'm coping. I'm not coping. I'm totally fked.
I'm supposed to have all these things to look forward to but I just see blackness. Everything is black. I tried playing PS4 and didn't get any joy from it.
I'm pathetic. My voices say it all the time. They tell other people to poke fun at me. Sometimes they do too (like at the bus stop yesterday when I face planted into the concrete and everyone laughed even though I hurt myself).
I wish my voices would bugger off. They are never friendly. My GP is closed as they are away until next week (I'm due to see them next week anyway). I don't want to go back to therapy. I hated it and found it so unhelpful. Every single time I hit crisis point, my psychologist would phone my shrink and have me hospitalised. How is that helpful?
I feel like I am trapped in some higher power's video game (a bit like the SIMS), only the person controlling me doesn't like me very much and keeps pushing me to the limits all the time. I know how my own SIMS feel (I play that myself) when they get sad and gloomy. I make them do things that they enjoy. I don't enjoy anything though.
I don't even know what the point of this post is. I guess it doesn't really have a point. I'm just uber-stressed and fast reaching flash point. In the past I use to curb this by drinking heavily and taking illicit drugs. I lost a lot of friends that way. Not that I am a social butterfly now, I am a loner most of the time and Miss Nigel No-Friends.
Is it wrong to fantasise about how you might harm yourself? I'm not attention seeking or anything, just really screwed up perhaps. The children are here so I'd never put them in that situation anyway, but the thoughts are there...
I'll stop this rambling stupid post now.