The best way to make it through with hearts and wrists in tact

Do you ever get those days where you feel absolutely fine, albeit somewhat tired due to night shift and inability to sleep during the day...but then your mood just goes down? So now you feel low and can't work out why.

One of my housemates just came in and asked me if I wanted two for one pizza from Papa Johns tonight....And where I usually would, I'm having a major diet time...But why would I normally take her up on the offer of pizza? I'm supposed to be dieting normally anyway, so the fact that I'm crash dieting shouldn't make it an unusual denial. Although, in fairness, they all know about the dieting (that usually fails tbh), so why did I even get asked? (Aside from politeness etc).

So I hate the fact that I'm dieting, or even the fact that I need to crash diet. Once I popped my bubble in January, I realised that in my depressed state, I inadvertently ate my weight in Chinese take-away. No word of I lie, I put on 2 stone since I started Slimming World in April 2009 (a month before I lost 10lbs, and split up with the infamous Chris Tebbey)....I was ok for a few months, but when I moved into my "digs" (as my grandma calls them - it was actually a flat above a salon) I sort of dove off the deep end (and no Lauren, I didn't dive off the shallow end and hit my head at the bottom of the pool...(private joke))...I lost all my motivation, stopped going to uni, went to work all weekend every weekend, just to get away, I stopped cooking real food and lived on Yumchi, and I pretty much slept my way around uni. Actually, I didn't do too badly in that last one, it was only a couple...just a couple more than I'd rather it had been...I mean, seriously, do I never get the guys I fancy? Just the weird awkward ones who, I'm pretty sure, just couldn't stop staring down my top. And if you're not sure if that's you, it probably is.

So, around 18 months after I initially split up with Chris, something snaps and I'm over him. I'm over everything and I feel great (See: happy blog post). I start going to my lectures regularly (although I did that quite well last semester). And I start thinking that I'm ready for something new.
Although I know that what I really need is someone to keep me stable. As evidence has led us to believe, I am not the strongest of people (mentally or physically). And unfortunately, I've known for some time that without someone to keep me sane, I wouldn't stay so for long. So here we are, 3 months later, and I'm going crazy again.

It's been happening for weeks. But I'm not as bad as I was 6 months ago. About 5/6 months ago, I moved back to the house in Leicester and I drank about 1/3 bottle of sambuca, and I overdosed for the third time in 12 months. The first time was just a fuck load of co-codamol. The second was a combination of co-codamol, paracetamol and citalopram (the anti-depressants, for those of you not in the know). And the third time (sambuca times) it was Sertraline (another anti-depressant) and more paracetamol. Luckily, I managed to throw everything back up that time, so another trip to A & E was not warranted. Thankfully, I am not that bad....
After the second time, though, Lauren and DJ both took me to A & E and, to his credit, stayed with me all day. DJ told Rik that it was his fault (the previously mentioned Newcastle person that led me on and doesn't want me anymore) (although I can't remember why it was his fault) anyway, I got a text from my dad a day or so later saying "Did you know that Lauren had to take her to a&e because she took an overdose?" and I'm still wondering whether he meant to send that to me or my mother...either way, I'd rather not have it out with him, since I don't particularly want to tell him that his daughter wanted to die, and his bitch of a wife doing everything in her power to get her to move out did not help one bit. Being made to feel like a stranger in your own house by someone your dad has brought into your life? Not very therapeutic.

I've not quite dived (dove?) into the pool again yet...I think stress is a huge factor here. I've got so much work to do for uni, and I'm just getting a lot of shifts with work when I really can't handle it...Sod's law isn't it really?
And the best part is, my doctor, who is brilliant, and the reason I've not transferred to the DMU health centre,  is only at my surgery on a Wednesday, and at the other on a Tuesday. So I have 2 days and 2 surgery's worth of patients to wait through to get to see my doctor. So I've had to wait for 2 weeks for this appointment (which is in a week, and the day after my birthday (21st, bitches)), and, unfortunately, I'm worried she'll put me back on the meds. Now, my mum hates the idea of medications, and I'm not about to sit and have a debate about the benefits of anti-depressants/anti-psychotics/anti-anxiety medication, because it would be somewhat retarded, as I'm well aware of the negatives, but unfortunately, both of my parents are convinced that I'll become addicted to them. In fact, my dad was worried I'd become addicted to pain killers while I was on them for a broken ankle....-_-' I wonder sometimes, I really do.

So as well as feeling low, and worthless and generally depressed, I've also been hit with some anxiety. In crowds. As soon as I'm aware that a situation will require me entering a public space in which there will be a large crowd of people, I panic. And I'm not talking worried. I feel drowsy and breathless. Not quite panic attack, but it's something to warrant concern. And it doesn't go away while I'm out. It gets worse on the journey there, and calms once I'm sat in a corner, but it's there. There's this panic that there are so many people. We had another Demon TV social for St Patrick's Day, so we all got dressed up in green and went to Kinky. Now this was fine, because I got a bit tipsy before we left, so I didn't care (which wasn't that difficult, given how tired I was). But when I returned from the toilet, I was suddenly alone. My friends were gone. I couldn't see them anywhere. I was alone in a huge crowd of drunk, dancing students. And that freaked me out! Fortunately though, after searching, I found them all again...But I went home about half an hour later. That was all I could stand.
We went to the union for DMU does Comic Relief on Friday as well (making up for the fact that night shifts had been cancelled), and the aforementioned panicky feeling happened, so Lauren and I sat in the corner at the back with Kev and Kirsty, and we were alright for a bit, but at one point, the girl sitting next to me stood up to watch, and this just breached my personal space a little bit too much....Fortunately, I had the excuse of an early shift on Saturday morning to get me home.

Luckily, I've worked out a possible reason for my recent insanity. I'm usually either at work or asleep these days, or at least alone. At work, there's usually just me and my client (unless I'm at a home, in  which case, there's the person I'm working with and the old people...who aren't even paying attention to themselves, let alone me)...So, naturally, I'm no longer used to crowded environments. And they scare me.

Fingers crossed, I'll get so drugged up next Tuesday that I won't even remember that I'm sad. I won't remember who Chris is, I won't remember that I've felt worthless and empty. And hopefully they won't make me worse like they did last time and I won't have the urge to OD again (which I twice thanks to anti-depressants)




So I've just realised that this is without a doubt, the most depressing blogpost ever...So I'm gonna go now....


Sincerely, in need of meds...

When the world ends, will God go down with it?

Good morrow, oh faithful followers...
Wow, it's been a while since I attacked this thing...
I seem to come on here to talk about feelings (usually anger, or sadness) and it used to be when I felt depressed...I'm beginning to notice a pattern...even if it is a somewhat weak, blog related pattern..

We have had so much work to do it's unreal...I wish so bad that I could just give up sometimes, but I'm determined to graduate and make my parents proud of me on graduation day. But I've been getting these headaches, which reduces the motivation to do work and I just lie in bed hoping my brain will either stop trying to escape out of the back of my head, or that it will actually achieve it and at least then I have the excuse of no longer having a brain...My logic is second to none...honest.

Since New Year, I've felt really good. I think I even posted about it...Maybe. Either way, I shall reiterate.
I felt happy for the first time in 2, maybe 3, years. And I don't just mean cheery happy, I mean non-suicidal happy. So it's been somewhat of a change...And this happiness came from a few realisations and finally getting completely over my ex. And what I really needed was that someone to keep me there, but of course that didn't quite happen.
Now, I'm not saying that I need a man to be happy. I'm really not. There's just been this certain feeling of emptiness, and a feeling that it would only be a matter of time before I slipped again, and here it is. Here is me slipping. And it feels rubbish.
Since previously mentioned activities in January, I've felt good, but I've felt it declining somewhat steadily...there's still part of me that likes that guy as well, but since he has a girlfriend now, it's somewhat redundant, but even if he didn't, what are the chances of him liking me that much anyway? I mean, I'm freakishly tall (which, ok isn't that much of a problem), I'm still overweight (and lack of a happy head makes for a lack of weightloss, it really does), I don't feel attractive (ever, so why would he? (Or anyone else for that matter))....Ok, those are completely shallow reasons not to be with someone, but who cares? They're still my hang ups, and I still don't think any guy would be able to, or even want to, see past them enough to like me...
It's almost as though I need someone to be able to keep my mind occupied. To be able to focus my feelings onto someone else, instead of thinking: "Well, we tried. We failed. Again. What now? Wanna go facebook stalk the ex that you've just got over?!"
I didn't, by the way...he just popped up on a friend's status, which then made me think about him, of course, and think about all the crappy times that we had (which is unusual, since it's usually the happy times that make me sad) and I get to thinking about when Adam told me that I'd been cheated on. He didn't tell me as such, he let it slip, thinking that I knew.
"Chris was just a lying, cheating douche bag."
"What? He cheated on me?"
"I thought you knew that?"

This conversation is forever etched in my mind as the moment my relationship dissolved. Of course, I didn't find out until recently, and he did admit it when I confronted him. But when I think about the last 18 months of our relationship, it explains sooo much. It had gotten to the point where I didn't feel like I should be at his house, like I wouldn't be missed if I wasn't there, because he'd spend the entire weekend watching the football, or out with his stupid friends, and we barely spoke, and when asked if he was ok, he'd always say he was fine, and end up getting mad at me for constantly asking, up to the point where I thought that I'd done something, that I'd said something wrong or whatever...but now I realise that he didn't talk to me because he felt he might blurt it out (maybe) and he didn't want to hurt me (his words, not mine), and the reason he was always looking down was maybe because he felt guilty about it, but still, didn't want to tell me because it would hurt me and I might break up with him? Maybe...but in hindsight, if he'd told me, am I not a reasonable enough person that I'd be mad at him for a while, but we might still be together?
What I'm trying to deduce is that the break up wasn't my fault, and I shouldn't hate myself for breaking his heart...But what I can't work out is that he never told me. Until I found out he was perfectly ok with letting me think that I was the reason he didn't want to talk and was always glum.
What boyfriend would rather save their own skin than let the girl they love believe that they're not good enough?
Maybe that's why I'm upset. Maybe the fact that I've blamed myself for so long, and he wasn't even willing to admit fault to anything...he was so surprised when we split up, which is why I blamed myself...he thought it was all going so well, he had no idea, so I could only deduce that it was me that was wrong...that I should take myself out of the equation...

I do wish that I could see him again, but I know that it would just make things worse...safe thing about Monsieur Blog is that he's never going to read it :) it's not like he needs to know what I still think of him, or even the fact that I do still think of him.

Well, I'm going to stop before the men in white coats come to take me away...
Sincerely, in need of meds...