Trigger warning: Very negative post, talk about suicidal feelings. Sorry if you read this. It’s really just my rubbish messed up thoughts.
I feel rubbish.
That’s what I tell my parents. No more really, and always the same. “I feel really rubbish today” “why” “I don’t know.”
And I wonder why they can’t help?
It’s just that I don’t want them to worry. If they knew everything they would. They probably already do.
Today I realised (again) that I’m not doing well. I had booked a doctors appointment, realised I couldn’t make it, so called up to change it.
I put down the phone, and realised I’d double booked myself again. That is not like me.
I’m making mistakes I don’t make. I’m stressing.
Anxious. On edge.
Can’t keep still. Can’t concentrate. Zone out of conversations. Can’t pay attention.
So tired. In my statistics seminar I wrote “18” instead of “81”, realised and corrected it. When I looked again, my correction still read “18” not “81”.
I don’t make these mistakes.
I went to the doctors to give them a letter.
I was on edge. About the letter. About the appointment.
Cancelled the appointment (the new one)
The woman was nice. She saw I was a mess. She made me an emergency appointment for today. I saw the doctor.
Different doctor. Better than doctor O, but a man. Not that that’s a problem. I just. I don’t know, I feel like I would find it easier with a female doctor.
Made an appointment with the mental health team for next week. Nervous. Scared. Are they just going to put me on another list?
Why can’t I cope? Everyone else can?
It’s hard to believe me. Is this depression real? Am I making it up? From the outside it doesn’t exist.
I finished last year with a 1st. My attendance was pretty good, and on the surface most people only ever see me happy/okay.
But I’m not. That’s the thing. And no one can see it. I trivialise everything so people don’t worry. “I’m fine” “I’m ok” “I’ll be alright” “I’ll feel better tomorrow”
None of it’s true. It’s exhausting keeping this act up.
I want to die. I’m sorry but that’s true.
Or more to the point. I want to stop feeling pain. I want to feel nothing. I don’t aim for happiness anymore, just no pain.
Come on Ellie, pull yourself together. You have to do this. You have to succeed. You have to prove you can do it.
Otherwise he was right about you. Just a failure. You can’t do it. You need him. You are weak, pathetic.
He wins. Depression wins. Anxiety wins. And you lose.
Everything is detached.
Not detached from me, detached from each other.
My brain is frazzled after today.
Long day. Lots of learning. Lots of emotion.
I am tired. Sleep, because that’ll fix everything… yeah right.