One of my friends tried to kill herself last night. I’m absolutely beside myself.

I thought she was going to so I told her mum to keep an eye on her last night. I feel awful. I should have gone back and stayed with her. I’ll see her tonight but I just can’t. I don’t know what I’d do without her.

This morning, Mum stormed her way down the corridor and I started freaking out in those few seconds because I know that walk she does. It’s the ‘shit is about to go down’ walk. It’s the kind of walk that triggers an anxiety attack for me.

So she burst in and just yells at me to get up and start tidying my room, throwing out old clothes etc etc etc.

I got up, went straight into the shower because Lord knows there is NO way I would’ve been able to handle anything if I didn’t chill the fuck out in the shower for a bit.

I started cleaning, I didn’t really know where to start. Mum walks in and she’s like ‘You don’t know where to start do you?’ So, she got me to put my doona cover on and go from there. Anyhoo, so I’m cleaning up and fixing my drawers and putting old clothes in a pile for charity and she comes in to my room crying.

So I’m like, ‘er…why are you crying?’ and she’s like ‘Give me a hug, I’m crying about you’ Blah blah, she goes on to say that she’s been a terrible mother and that I don’t tell her when something’s wrong and she starts asking me what’s going on and if I’m okay. I just say ‘I’m fine’ and avoid eye contact and she asks me why I don’t tell her what’s wrong. Then she asked about my medication and if I’m still on it and how much it costs me etc. I just said ‘yes’ and about ‘$30 per month’.

I just, can’t. I can’t talk to her about these things and I don’t know why. i think it’s because we’ve never talked and any time I’ve ever broken down and shared my feelings with her, she’s shot me down or yelled at me, or made it my fault. She never gave me the chance to talk to her. And now, well now I can’t do it. I remain blank-faced and full of agony because I can’t tell her that my insides are rotting away from constant mental torment. I can’t tell her how high my dosage is compared to hers and that I’m on anti-psychotics at night to stop the nightmares. I can’t tell her that some days I just want to die but I can’t do it to all the people I love.

I think she’s beginning to see the hurt in my eyes, the one place I can’t hide it. My grandma saw it and told me within seconds of seeing me when I went to the beach.

le sigh.

Like spending the whole day in one giant anxiety attack couldn’t be topped but then I jammed my thumb in my fucking drawer. Then the motherfucking waterworks start don’t they? I tried to hold it in, but no, the thumb did it for me.

the half tablet wasn’t stopping the vivid dreams and nightmares. I woke up last night in a cold sweat after dreaming about everyone around me turning into cannibals. It was really horrific.

Just saw on the calendar on December 27th ‘Matt and Renee’s 3 year anniversary’

Fuck. My. Life.

Clearly Mum wrote it at the start of the year before he broke up with me.

I scribbled that shit out so fucking hardcore.

oh no - same one again?

Yeah. Her mum messaged me just before, she’s home now. Silly girl…