Depressed again. Saw the nurse.

2003-06-05 at 6:19 a.m.

I'm so sick of this. I thought that maybe I was getting better, even though I was feeling all up and down at once, because the suicidal thoughts had gone and the cutting had got much better. But now, for the past few days I've been thinking of suicide again. Once again, I'm too depressed even to cut to prevent myself from dying.

I don't understand why I'm feeling like this. I've been puzzling about it since January and I can't think of anything. Maybe I'm immature and can't handle not being a student (ie becoming an adult) or something?

I literally cannot see past the end of the month anymore. Its just this big blank, like there's a big wall up there or something.

I'm sick of feeling awful, I'm sick of worrying and having people poking about my head. And I'm so tired.

If I could do anything I wanted right now, I think I'd take a trip to Northumberland, and just walk off into the sea. I'd like that. Better than being in a city, anyway.

I went to see the nurse yesterday. It was a bit weird - I really don't see what I'm supposed to be getting out of it, and she asked what she was supposed to do, and I didn't know. I only went along because the psychiatrist recommended it. But I find it really irritating, I think too many people know about it, because I've got the psychiatrist, the nurse, my mum, my friends....all sorts of people all wanting to know whats going on in my head. And I'm sick of telling them - I mean, its my head, and I wish they'd get out of it! It was better when I just talked to the psychiatrist, I think.

Anyway, now the nurse thinks I'm weird. I was trying to explain why I don't like talking on the phone, because I don't like not being able to see what someone looks like and where they are. I did try to explain but she didn't seem to get my point about needing to see people's body language, and looked at me odd. Good job I didn't tell her about hating to be touched or some of the other stuff that makes people look at me oddly! Actually, while she's a nice woman, there is something about her that annoys me. Obviously my temper is going again because I wanted to snap at her, which isn't normal for me. But the thing that annoys me is that she really obviously is studying my body language, in fact she commentated on it and said she thought I looked uncomfortable and didn't I like coming along. Of course I'm going to look uncomfortable if she's studying the way I hold myself, speak, everything! Its not pleasant to be scrutinised like that! I'm perfectly aware my body language leaves a lot to be desired - I fiddle a lot - but she makes it so obvious she's inspecting it, whereas the psychiatrist - who I'm sure probably is keeping an eye out, doesn't make it so obvious.

Anyway, the nurse wasn't much help, just managed to scare me. I mentioned that my parents want me to go see them this weekend and that I was a bit worried because they don't know about the cutting, and I have scars from wrist to shoulder on one arm. She just kept saying "but what if they see?" over and over, and I would really rather cross that bridge when I come to it rather than worrying about it now.

Grrr. Anyway, seeing her again in three weeks time. I have money again today - I'm up to the limit on my overdraft again because I've been overspending in an effort to cheer myself up.

I hate the "wee small hours". I can pretty much guarantee that if I have a crisis, this is when it'll be - when all my friends are in bed and unable to help me. And I can't ring the numbers I've been given - even if I could pluck up the courage I wouldn't know what to say. And I'm not sure I want help anyway.

The only thing thats worrying me is that I don't actually think I have the means to kill myself properly (how can you kill yourself improperly? lol). I have pills - but the psychiatrist sort of intimated that they wouldn't kill me. Now, he may have just been saying that so I wouldn't try, but...I don't want to end up being prodded in hospital again. I didn't mind - in fact I quite liked - being in the hospital and being cared for, but I really didn't like having people just come up to me and start feeling my arm, giving me tests, etc. Its an invasion I'm not keen on really.

I don't know what to do, or what I'm going to do. The urge to kill myself has been getting stronger and stronger again, and I don't have an anchor point to offset it. I don't have anything to look forward to - all I'm looking at is grinding poverty at the moment. I've got to find a job, just take anything, I have no ambition, no dreams, no ideal job - the only thing I have which could be said to be an ambition is a wish to live near Bamburgh in forty years time, when I'll hopefully be able to afford to. Some future that is! Not being able to really live until I'm in my 60s!

I just want to get away.

-Blaed

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