I’m really not proud of myself at all. I’m not ashamed of my illness but I’m not proud of what I did. On Tuesday even I took another overdose to try and end my life. I honestly feel like an idiot for not reaching out for help. I should have. I wish I did. I’ve not that long been able to talk about my feelings with my mum but it’s really hard to talk about hearing voices, and that’s been affecting me a lot for the past 2 weeks. It’s hard not to listen to them when they’re screaming at me or repeating themselves over and over. “Isolate yourself”, “push everyone away”, they don‘t care about you” and “you’re an inconvenience to everyone” is what they often tell me. These past two years have been tough. Not just on me, but on my loved ones too. Right now I feel extremely selfish for trying to take my own life. I feel like I’ve taken my family for granted and I hate myself for it. Wow I’ve actually cried twice today. That’s a first. Right now I’m sitting on my bed on a psychiatric ward as an inpatient. This is my third time in here in the past two years but it never gets easier. At least last time I was single. This time I have a loving partner, whom is currently on a psychiatric ward in another hospital. I’ve let her down too. To the point where she has suggested we go on a break next week. This was hard to hear. Last time, in my previous relationship, going on a break basically meant break up for good. That’s what scares me. No one believes me when I say I’m trying my best not to destroy myself. I’ve started this blog, written plans for my next book, planned some YouTube videos, done my Xmas shopping, talking about my feelings (most of the time) and I’ve even not self-harmed for three weeks. Yet I have to go on a break and my mum is suggesting I will have to live in some special place with 24-hour care. I really don’t want that. I know I’ve fucked up but please don’t do this to me, I’m trying so hard 😭 I feel so alone.
