Actually, I know I have to write. I can’t put it off just because I don’t want to. Even if nobody ever reads this, I need to be able to pinpoint the times I struggle, and see if I can find a reason for it. I think the most likely reason is isolation; I’ve been indoors since yesterday, and I’m already experiencing full-on cabin fever. I don’t cope well with being indoors, and going into the garden doesn’t help (as my mother often suggests) – I need to be on the streets, I need to be able to see people around me and know I’m not the only person alive. I’ve also been told today that fibromyalgia is all in my head, and if I thought positively I wouldn’t be in pain. I think that’s why I want to cry.
I’m putting off texting S. He said to contact him if I ever felt panicky or alone, but I don’t want to start relying on him answering his phone. That’s one of the reasons why O and I failed. I know S is different, but I can’t allow myself to put pressure on him, I refuse to be a burden. It’s times like this I want to fall back on codeine, or at least dope, but I have neither. All I have is a few antihistamines, and they’re not particularly effective at calming me down anymore. Not much is, I have such a high tolerance to everything now. So, I naturally turn to harming myself… luckily, I don’t really have easy-access razors anymore, but I know how easy it would be to light a cigarette and hold it on my arm like I used to. I haven’t done that for so long (the last time I burned, it was with a piece of hot metal), but I can’t deny that the urge is massive right now. If I do though, I’ll have to explain it to S, and would that really be worth it for a few seconds of relief? No. So I have to hold back.
On a lighter note, S has been wonderful as usual. I told him that I was feeling under the weather due to fibromyalgia, and he took amazing care of me this weekend. He didn’t even complain when I had to leave early when we met on Wednesday for a meal. When I’m bad, he’s so, so gentle with me. I’ve never known a man like him.
The meal was lovely. We met at my favourite pub, got a bottle of wine and talked for a few hours about everything and nothing. I don’t always see him during the week; I can’t usually cope with the effort of leaving the house midweek, but I was feeling brave and wanted to see him. Sometimes, he’s all that can calm me.
Okay. So I’ve got the razor out of the plastic case. Doesn’t mean I have to do it. I’ll just keep writing.
I had problems with Z this weekend. I’ve spoken briefly about Z before – she’s my best friend. We met online, through a body piercing forum, and she started a relationship with one of my friends, so we got to know each other. She has bipolar II (originally diagnosed as BPD), and although I love her, she’s a constant source of frustration to me. She’s very hyper and proactive, whereas I’m laid-back and happy to spend time alone. To cut a long story short, she wanted to meet S and I in Liverpool, but S had planned the trip and wanted to spend some time alone with me because he knew I was stressed. I had no idea how to get out of the situation, so I ended up turning my mobile off and ignoring her, which makes me a terrible person. I just can’t deal with friendship, how does everyone else manage it? It’s the hardest thing. We’ve spoken since, and I lied. I said my battery died. Which makes me even worse. Sometimes I think I’d be better off without friends at all, because I just can’t cope with the whole friendship thing. I never can.
I also did something which disappointed me, this weekend. I stole something. Well, I found it, but the right thing to do would have been to take it to the police station. I kept it, and now I’m wondering… am I starting to do that again? I used to steal all the time. I got banned from shops for doing it, and only avoided the law by being young and having a history of mental illness. I don’t know why I did it. There was no damn reason. I don’t even want it.
I don’t know. It’s a confusing time.
One little cut won’t do any harm.