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too close for comfort

October 14, 2008

I like to think I’m open about things, but I’m coming to realise I’m not. I can easily talk about things when I have a computer screen to hide behind, but when it comes to real life, person to person, it’s not that simple. Telling my friend about my last suicide attempt, talking about how I really feel without putting on a face, with my old counsellor and this morning with the mental health worker. I just feel so infiltrated and uncomfortable having to tell people and justify my actions. Actions that really, in a rational sense can’t be justified. My problems to do with eating and suicidal thoughts are so difficult to talk about, but I still have to squeeze them out. Beating the blues asks you outright about suicidal thoughts, if you’ve had them and how serious you were about them… then it gets sent to your mental health worker. Then he brings it up, and I can’t handle it. I find this so difficult to talk about, but why? It’s something that’s happened to me, something that shouldn’t and something they want to know about it. I’m tempted to just lie from now on, say no even when I have, purely on the basis of it’s easier, but that’s the easy way out; just like suicide.

He’s also concerned about my eating, as am I. I’m trying but I really can’t eat and having to organise myself is becoming a recipe for disaster: if I don’t have food I don’t have to eat, simple. Except that’s not the way it should be. The way it should be is that I can eat, that I eat healthily and never have to consider this, except that’s harder than it seems, and I also don’t have scales. Thus meaning I’m paranoid about my weight so if one day my jeans are a bit tight, it’s not because they’ve just been washed, it’s because I’ve put on weight. So this weekend, I let myself go a bit, I ate chocolate cake and drank lemonade and various other sweet concoctions, so I should be alright? No. Because next week I’ll be feeling it and feeling so bad about something that’s healthy to do: have chocolate once in a while and enjoying food. I want to change my perception about food and myself, but I don’t know how and I feel like I’m wading through treacle with my mental health worker: I’m using beating the blues which is great, but I don’t like internet based things, that was my problem with Kooth. I also don’t like how much time I spend talking about this with the MHW but it feels as nothing is really happening… I feel like I’m being fobbed off with something else, just because the NHS can’t be arsed to fund things properly. Maybe that’s harsh, but right now that’s how I feel.

Oh, and I’m a twit; I’ve booked my train tickets home to the wrong station! It’s not major but I really need to learn exactly where I live and stop pretending I even live halfway close to Manchester Piccadilly!

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