32 Days

I think  it is safe for me to post now.
At least I hope it is, because I need an outlet.

I don’t know why I always put off doing a post on here. Its a case of “lets do it tomorrow” but yada yada the cycle repeats itself. I always find it funny, reading other peoples blogs and thinking why do they moan and why is it so depressing. Then I do it myself heh.

I’ll make this a happy post.

I am now the proud owner of two kids. Rebecca and Ben. They are both amazing and yeah, kids. I need to stop having them. It a bad habit. Although if I can last till March without getting someone pregnant, then no more winter babies and I might actually get a chance to do Christmas shopping instead of shouting “Pussssssssh dammit”.

The title of this post is 32 days.

I was admitted to the Priory hospital for 32 days, for those that don’t know, its mental health hospital (rehab etc). I’ve been doing three times a week since August, then at the end of November things got to a head and I came in. It was a strange environment. It was a bubble. It was safe. Everyone there had problems, so you felt ok because you were all there to get better. So no judgement, no badness, just talking and being honest with strangers. Its sad. You feel closer to the people there after 2 secs of talking than you could with anyone else. They know what you are going through, they know what its like, so you have an instant bond.

At least that is my take on it. I learned how to draw while I was there. I also learned routine and patience. I also learned that taking mind altering substances & alcohol is not the best way to live. Thankfully it has never affected my work performance.

Its getting worse again. I can tell. I don’t know who to tell. I’m taking packet after packet of cold & flu just to get the phenylalanine. Currently taking 16 tablets a day. Its only a matter of time before it catches up with me. I don’t mean that in a depressing way, but it would be a relief when it does. Because throwing up at night is not fun. Especially when it burns your nose and your all argggh.

BUT I have stopped self harming with knifes. The last time I cut down to the tendons and its taken months to heal, so I learned my lesson with that. Now I just need to look at my left arm and I remember that Ive already paid for what I’ve done.

Meh. I’ll take another pack. See how that does.


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Randomness about me :) I live in Manchester (UK), this is my corner of the web to rant, vent and keep a diary of random events in my life.

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