Way to screw up your kids!

Sunday 30th January

I spoke to the girls today, yeah way to go Mum you fucking idiot!  I told them I hadn't been well and I needed them to know that if I ever did anything, it wouldn't be anything they have done, it's just me.  Now I don't think it was such a good idea, way to go, guess what girl's, your Mum's a fucking pysco who wants to kill herself!  What an idiot!  I don't even know why I did it, maybe K is right, maybe I really am an attention seeking bitch, but from my own kids, I mean come on! WTF?!?!?!  They asked me how I was going to do it and I said tablets and daughter number 2 was relieved I wasn't going to hang myself like her friends Dad tried to do outside his son's bedroom door so the first thing he would have seen when he opened his bedroom door was his Dad hanging, bit fucked up, way to think things through mate!  And daughter number 3 was relieved I wasn't going to cut my wrists and they would find me in a pool of blood.  I can't say that thought had never occurred to me, slitting my wrists was right up there with the tablets, but truth is, I'm a fucking wimp, I wouldn't have the guts to do it.  Rob piped in and said "If you were going to do it, I wouldn't stop you" to which I replied "I never wanted you to stop me, but I wanted you to do something if I did, like call an ambulance!" and to that he had no answer.  It makes me think if I ever did do something like that, he wouldn't call an ambulance until it was too late and I was really dead.  I still feel depressed, but I don't wish I was dead any more.  There is just so much hate and anger inside me, all aimed at me, I was just starting to get to a place inside where I could think of that little girl I used to be and feel sorry for her.  Now all I feel is hate and contempt again.  There's a part of me that says none of it was her fault, it was all them, all those men, S, N, JE, H, ST, it was them that had the problem, them that were perverted.  And then there is another part that says what did you do?  The clothes I wore, the way I walked and talked, the way I had to grow up when I should have been a child, all that and those stupid big brown eyes in that young face, of course they saw me as more than a child!  And all those beatings from P and Derek, i deserved them all too.  The way I looked, the way I provoked them trying to be hard, piss em off, give em the look.  I may as well have stuck a big sign saying beat me!  Touch me here!  Rape me!  FFS!!!!  Not to mention whatever happened with sue and Chris that fucked me up so much I can't remember anything about those 6 months, or that year that I lived with them!  Maybe they should just lock me up, throw away the key and leave me to rot!  It's not like I'd die of hunger with about a years supply of fat on me to keep me going!  Thirst maybe, but not hunger.  It's just all so fucked up, or maybe the world is just fine and it's really me that's fucked up.  maybe I'm already locked up somewhere, tied to a bed and pumped full of drugs and all this, all this around me, this life, this world, this me, it's all just an illusions.  Some crazy girls deranged dream and not real at all.  Maybe even if I did take tablets or cut my wrists it wouldn't matter anyway.  I wonder if I would actually die, or just wake up in the real world?  In a a hospital bed somewhere tied to a bed?  Who knows, maybe it is all real and I really am fucking crazy!  Maybe THE FAMILY finally did it, they finally drove me mad.  I could be one of those crazy relatives they used to keep locked up in the attic, away from people in case they infected them?  Maybe I even did infect daughter number 1?  Maybe that is why she is the way she is?  The  anorexia  and depression.  They say madness is hereditary.  Maybe I got mine from Aunty P, haha, how funny does that sound?  Aunty P! Hahahahahahahahaha, just plain fucking crazy!  Like me!  Fucking crazy, mental, a fucked up slut, a perverted fucking psychopathic!  Fucking stab me!!

In the Dark.

Wednesday 26th January 2011

Well, there is finally some light at the of the tunnel.  I have been in darkness a week now and it has never before felt this bad.  D told me her Dad, is my Dad.  My uncle is my Dad.  Like it wasn't bad enough before having my Aunty (My mother's sister) as my step-mum, it seems my Uncle (My Dad's brother) is also my Dad.  The uncle who died of cancer, the one I never saw when he was dying.  The Uncle who had his fingers inside me when I was a kid asking if I had come yet when I didn't even know what it meant.  Making Steven my brother!  That prick who may have raped me when I was a young child on the kitchen floor in the dark, when we lived at Sapperton Road.  That dick who fathered S to C!  I mean isn't our family fucked up enough?!  Why did she have to tell me?  Why did I make her tell me??  Just because I was so up myself I thought I knew everything!  I thought I knew what she was going to tell me, that Derek was my Dad.  The step Dad who beat the shit into me when we lived with Rose (My Mother).  Nothing could have prepared me for THAT!  It makes D, M, Ma, Ni, No my siblings.  C becomes only my half sister and J doesn't even become that!  He is just my cousin.  He is downstairs now with Rob and he sounds so much like Dad it hurts.  I wish I could hate Rose for this, but I feel numb towards her, as if nothing she does or say could ever hurt me when she has already done so much damage to me.  I had a meeting with Devy or however you spell it, on Monday this week.  She was worried about me, Lisa was there and they met for the first time, or so I am told.  I wish I could be her all the time.  She makes me feel strong and safe, like nothing could ever hurt me.  Devy has been phoning me every day, telling me to phone the crisis team if I need to.  But what do I say?  I'm thinking of killing myself?!  I'm sitting here and I want to die?!  I can't!  It would be like admitting I have a problem and I need help, I can't do that.  It's one thing to see a therapist every week for 50 minutes, but to phone some complete stranger on the end of a phone and say "hey dude, I need your help!"  I just can't bring myself to do it.  But I don't want to die either!  I don't want to kill myself, but there is this darkness inside, evil darkness saying do it, do it, take the damn pills, take them all.  I feel worthless, like if I did phone them, it wouldn't matter any way, they would cart me off to glos royal, stick me in a bed on a loony ward and then laugh at me from another room while the doctors and nurses treat me with contempt because they are there to save lives, and I'm just there so I don't end mine!  It's not like I deserve it!  I don't deserve a bed that should be used for a sick person who  really need it.  I kinda know how J felt now when he was in hospital and kept saying that to me.  except he actually was ill,he had inflamed liver and gall stones.  Me, I'm just stupid.  And like K said on fb when I put something on my status, well actually what I put was a joke but partly true about the way I felt.  It said, "If I was to put on my status that I was suicidal and standing on the edge of a cliff, I wonder how many of my friends would poke me"  and she called me an attention seeker.  Ja said he wouldn't poke me cuz it would take all his fb friends.  Yea thanks for that, way to kick a girl when she's down!  Tell her she's fat!  Sh did say he wouldn't poke me, he would rope me, I laughed and said I could use a rope right now and he said his rope wouldn't be any good to me because they are noose proof.  It's funny.  The only one to bother replying was the guy who came round with S when we was kids.  The guy who actually fell in love with me and P and S chased him off for it, called him a pervert cuz I was only about 11, yet S who did THAT to me in that very house!  It was P that punched , kicked, pulled my hair, slapped and hit with clogs, sticks, crutches, walking sticks, and a fucking swish curtain rail until it snapped and blood poured down my legs for wetting the bed!  Yet because one guy ever showed me any emotion but hate, lust and anger was a pervert.  All my so called friends and family on fb and he was the only one to care.  Oh him and my thread friends.  They say they would pray for me, but seriously, what good are prayers?  What good are prayers to a God that doesn't exist?  And that was hard to write.  mothers words in my head again, going on about not taking the Lord's name in vain, about never lying, it's in the 10 commandments and tell the truth and shame the devil.  Her!?  who never even went to church, never read a bible, HER who married her sister's man, and her brother-in-law, brother to her husband!  I mean WTF?!?!?!  And they say I'm fucking crazy?!  They never should have let her out of the loony bin when they put her in there when she was a kid and stabbed her Mother in the arm.  Mind you there are a lot of times I have wanted to stab mine!  Fucking both of them!  When she was beating on C cuz that prick got her pregnant, fuck me she was lucky M was there cuz I still believe I actually would have stabbed her when she held that knife to me, or she would have stabbed me, either way she was lucky her daughter was there to save her fat, ugly, greasy, ass!

New exercise, really?! (WARNING EXPLICIT LANGUAGE)

Well, went in to therepy Wednesday and Devy said to stop the breathing exercises, they weren't helping and do I now have to brush my teeth and think about what I am doing, nothing else, just what I am doing...... easy?  Try is sometime. Hmmm, well the last breathing exercise was so successful (hear the sarcasm*) she has given me a new one.  Then write about it.  Though it seems really daft.

Thursday 9th September 2010 8.15PM

Brushed teeth, feel a bit stupid writing about brushing my teeth, but whatever, here goes..  I have a blue and yellow toothbrush, it doesn't have a tongue and cheek cleaner.  I like the ones with the cleaner but Rob ordered from tesco on line, a bogof offer, so all good.  Toothpaste was very minty, I'm rather proud of my teeth, 37 and never had a filling, or teeth removed, except when I was younger and had too many teeth in my mouth and they removed 2 from each side at the back, so 4.  Then when I got older had 4 more removed cuz I was going to have braises fitted, but that was when Rose was goignt through her Mothering role, then she got bored before they could fit them and I went back to Dad's and he hated dentists, never even brought us a tooth brush, I used to scrape my teeth with my finger nails to clean them.  Gross, I know!  Any-ways, the toothpaste was very minty, hot minty but not too hot.  Brush teeth going past each tooth one by one, then spit.  Make sure to turn off the tap, wasting water like that sucks and if more people turned off the tap while brushing their teeth, well, I bet we wouldn't be having hose pipe bans.  After teeth brush cheeks (inside of course cuz would be stupid to brush outside, though I do wonder, what it would feel like?) and then brush tongue, spit, rinse, wash out brush.


 Lisa showed up at therepy this week, though I was able to rein her in and keep her under control, even if I kept losing my focus doing it.  She really wants to be heard and Devy says I will have to listen to her at some spoint, but I am not ready to do that yet, so let's hope she behaves until then.  And she had me read out all that I had written, which I did but I refused to read out Lisa's, despite her asking several times.  It was embarrassing enough for me to read it, and to know that some primeval part of me had written it.  She read it herself and said there is a lot of anger there, as if I didn't know that!  I know.  that is what scares me, because Lisa is a part of me, as she says she is, then just how much hate and anger do I carry around with me all the time?  And what happens if that rage ever lets go and I can't control it any more?  That fucking terrifies me!

Friday 10th September 2010 10.10PM

My toothbrush is actually blue and green, not blue and yellow.  Poured tooth paste onto the brush.  Had to squeeze the tube hard though, it's really annoying when people don't put the lid on the tube and it goes hard.  It fell off the brush, which confused me for a brief second kinda like "huh?  I could have sworn I just put toothpaste on that", then I saw it in the sink and was like "Oh there it is, look at that hahahaha"  So I poured some more on.  Was thinking about how my left foot has been hurting the last couple of days.  I don't remember hurting it, but it feels bruised.  Reminds me of last week, or week before, not sure which, when my left thumb was really painful and bruised badly, but I have no idea how or when I did it, but it was painful enough to feel like it did when I broke it a few summers back.  OK, more like 8 or so.  Still brushing teeth and then thinking that it is actually harder than you would think to only think about brushing your teeth.  Which got me thinking of other things we do on autopilot, like brushing our hair, but then I started thinking if we lived way back I would have to brush my hair 100 times before bed, so no more auto pilot, but then they never brushed their teeth, or washed their hair.  I have finished brushing my teeth without realising it, so i do my tongue and notice how under my tongue is really ugly.  The I rinse and finish.

Sunday 10th Spetember 8.15PM

Took tooth brush, poured on the toothpaste.  I can smell the mint.  Wet it under the tap before putting it in my mouth.  I start to brush my teeth, up and down, back and forth, round and round, and I have a chant going in my head, 'tooth, tooth, tooth ' each time I brush one tooth at a time.  I start on the bottom left, then top left, bottom right, top right then front.  Brush my inside cheek, then my tongue.  I can taste the mint, it's strong.  I spit then rinse and run my tongue over my teeth, enjoying the smooth clean surface.  Then I clean the brush and put it away.

Monday 11th September 2010 8.45PM

Put the toothpaste on the brush, spilt it on my black top, good thing it's evening and not morning.  My head hurts.  Trying to think of what I am doing but my mind keeps fluttering.  Thinking I've been chewing gum all day, that's prob why I got head ache.  Funny, that's usually Lisa's thing not mine.  Wonder why she does that?  Maybe cuz she doesn't smoke much.  I look in the mirror and stare at my reflection  thinking how bad I look, how ugly.  I need to calm down but the voices are giving me head ache, they won't shut up.  I understand them but I keep seeing Pat's face in my head, even though I can't hear her voice.  I keep scrubbing teeth, then rinse and finish.  I just realised, I never brushed my cheek, or my tongue.  But then who gives a fuck anyway?  I should go back and do it, but I don't want to.  (Writing becomes messy and the pen is pressed so hard on the paper it is torn in places and the whole passage is covered in scribble)  I feel so angry and don't know why.  Rob hasn't been here since Sunday and the girls are quiet, all is good, so why this anger, this hate I feel?  I wanna hurt myself.  I remember what Devy said rubber band on the wrist and do it, but before I can flick it to stay awake I remember that was for something else, for fading.  I am fading, do it again.  Do it again.  Good pain.  Teeth, meant to be talking about teeth.  Fuck teeth!  Fuck this shit!  fuck it all!  And fuck you too!  BITCH! CUNT! FUCK YOU! Teeth, teeth, teeth, teeth, teeth, teeth!  Teeth!  Teeth!  Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK YOU!!!!

Tuesday 12th Spetember 9.00PM

I can smell mint as I put the paste on my brush.  Pay attention as I brush each tooth.  Mind wonders but I bring it back.  I have a head ache again.  I feel here, but not here.  I continue brushing my teeth, and realise I am staring off into space again.  My mouth feels hot from the mint.  I don't know how long I have been standing here.  I brush my cheeks and tongue, rinse then clean the brush.

Breathing Exercise ( WARNING: Explicit language)

Thursday 2nd September 2010 11.08PM

Sat up on the bed crosses legs.  Observation: Sounds of traffic outside.  Feeling cold but relaxed.  Thinking my cup of tea is going to get cold.  Thinking about breathing again, then about earlier when I went over Carmen's and Joe and we all watched the film "Hunger".  Back to breathing.  Thinking how I miss this cuz I used to do it every night with candles and incense sticks when I lived alone in Cinderford.

Saturday 4th September 2010  11.40AM

Sat on bed crossed legs.  Observation: Arms and torso relax but legs, head and neck tense up.  there's traffic outside and birds singing.  I can't think.  Lisa is screaming and there are so many other voices inside my head, all shouting and talking and crying and I can't understand what they are saying, it's just noise.  I'm shouting at them to shut up but no one listens.  I count my breathing, it's hard to concentrate but I push through.  Slowly the voices, screaming, quiet down.  They are still there, still shouting and screaming, but it's like they are at the end of a corridor.  I count my breaths and I have managed to stop rocking.  I am also starting to relax and feel quiet inside when a text comes through on my mobile cuz I forgot it was there, and it all starts up again.  I try to go back to my quiet place but I can't.  I'm rocking again and the voices and screaming are louder than ever.  I just want to pull my hair out, get them out of my head.  I have a headache but they won't shut up, they won't leave me alone.  "I'm fat, I'm useless, a worthless piece of shit, I should just die, you should fucking kill yourself cuz everyone would be better off without you.  Jump out the window, feel the stones hit you, see them coming at you/  ( I see it)  on and on it goes and I just want to stay here, rocking and screaming.  But my coffee is getting cold and there is housework to do.  I have to smile and pretend the voices aren't there so my girls and Rob will never know what I really am.

Sunday 5th September 2010 10.00PM

Sat cross legged on the bed.  Observation: Backpain.  Concentrating on breathing.  Thinking I turned the light off, and that was a bad idea.  I don't like the dark, esceppially going up the stairs, it always feels like someone is behind me, catching up with me, chasing me and I feel terrified.  I start to feel worried by bringing it back to my breathing.  I keep hearing Eminem song "When I'm gone", but just one line, 3rd verse where Hayley follows him to Sweden and scrams from the crowd "Help Mummy!  Her wrists are bleeding!" and I can feel the pain of the knife cutting into my wrists and it's almost a pleasant pain.  Feel the warm, thick blood as it drips down and slips through my fingers.  I hear a motorbike outside and concentrate on the sound as it passes.  My body is feeling hot, but my arms are cold.  The silence is so loud it almost hurts my ears to hear it.  I turn back to my breathing before opening my eyes and writing.  I don't think it matters what I write or what I say, it's not like my therepist is going to take the time to read all this anyway!  Txt message just scared the shit out of me and the cat sneezing does the same.  I wonder why I feel so nervous after doing this breathing thing?

Monday 6th September 2010

Well I am in that place again.  The one where I promise to change my life.  You know, the one where I say no one else matters except Rob and our girls.  I am going to lose weight, I am going to start an exercise plan and stick to it.  I am going to stop being lazy and go to bed at a decent hour, get up at a decent time, clean the house after exercising, eat healthy, drink water, stop spending so much time on the computer and do more constructive things with my time, knitting, cross-stitch maybe even start writing again.  Will I stick to it?  Who knows, I'm always here and then I'm not and everything goes to pot and I finish looking, feeling and being crap.  If only it was as easy to do as it is to say.

10PM

Sitting in bed with a candle lit and the scent of lavender in the air.
Observation: The sound of traffic driving through the rain.  Relaxing slowly.  Thinking about what I wrote, about beginning to write again.  Maybe getting out my old journals and putting them onto my computer so I can put them onto a disc.  Breathing, counting, relaxing.  Breathing in the scent of lavender.  I'm floating, no longer in my body, I can't feel it.  I am still breathing, but if I open my eyes I will see myself below.  Floating out of my body and feeling free.  Floating for a while and then slowly opening my eyes to find I am in my body and I am not free at all, it was just an illusion.

Tuesday 7th September 2010 10.25PM

Sat crossed leg on bed with candle lit.  Observation:  Didn't have the same effect as last night.  I tried to do the breathing and couldn't.  Felt afraid and had to keep opening my eyes to look around me.  Tried to do it with my eyes open but was sweating, nervous.  Turned light on, blew out candle and poured wax on my arm, then tried again.  Still nothing.  I feel so stupid.  No marks on my arm to hide, the wax didn't mark and the knife wasn't sharp enough that I used on my arm.  I really need to buy some new knifes - knives- which was is it spelt again?  (Writing becomes erract, messy, sharper)  KNIFES- KNIVES- knifes- knives- Nifes - Nives- Knifes? Knives?  Knifes knives knifes knives knifes knives knifes knives knifes knives cut knifes stab knives bleed knifes knives knifes (Lisa is here) knifes hurt knives pain knives knifes knives knifes KNIVES (scribble)  doesn't matter, who gives a fucking shit anyway!  Fucked, and shitted on, cruel and spiteful bastards all of em!  Hahahahaha fuck you slut!  Read that BITCH!  Don't fucking care!  Don't fucking give 2 shite about any of this anyway!  Write what the fuck I fucking well please!  Cock sucking son of a bitch!  Chop your fucking dick off and shove it down your throat until you fucking choke on it and drown in your own fucking come.  Bastard asshole cunting mother fucking batched up fucker!! FUCKER FUCKER FUCKER FUCKIN..... (Scribble followed by lighter messy writing)  Maybe she's right, as if Devy what's her name is even going to read it anyway?  Should just give up. pretend, smile, so fucking ridiculous haha posh bitch outside my window, wanna scream at her to fuck off, but won't can't, not right, not fucking normal!  normal who the fuck is normal anayway?  Smoke a fag, let it burn burn baby burn!  Let em all fucking burn!  Burn the whole fucking world, burn the field of flowers with you in it stupid pathectic cry baby!  What are you?  Fucking cry baby pathetic fat ugly don't give a fuck!  Bitch whore! Hoe! Hoe!

Fuck you mood

Wednesday 1st September

We talked about the family, how they make me angry when they take the piss and why I can't say no.  Blah, blah, blah.....  Heard it all before.  I can't say no because I feel I have to be the one that helps, cares and be in my 'mother role' because it's all the things I never had.  I can't say no because I was never allowed to say no when I was a child, no matter what anyone said or did, or how it made me feel, I could never say no.  Like I didn't already know all that.  How the trauma of the past is affecting my life now, and then she drew the fucking diagram!!  Like I haven't seen that before.  And how we are going to work on that rather than on what happened in the past.  Yeah, good luck with that!  Self loathing- you're pretty, you're worth it, you're worth being loved and all that bullshit they tell you when they are working on self esteem issues.  Breathing exercises for anger, I have to take 5 min every day to some yoga type breathing and record what I think, what I feel, where I am, it's all crap really.  But I'll do it cuz she's the one with the fancy title to her name.  Do I think it will help?  Like fuck I do!  But we shall see.  Maybe I'm just in a 'fuck you' mood this week.

Meeting Lisa

Wednesday 4th August 2010

We talked about my other councelling sessions today.  How it went and how I just got left, as if I didn't matter.  We talked about "Not Ivy" inside me, who actually likes the name Lisa but I just felt too stupid to tell her that.  The angry, evil, cruel one locked in a cave deep inside, screaming to be let out, to be set free.  She says I have a way to connect to Lisa, talk to her, listen to what she has to say instead of pushing her away and keeping her locked up inside.  She just doesn't understand how bad she would be if I let her out, set her free.  The things she would say and do would be so bad, so cruel and evil.  There is a part of me that knows Lisa and I are the same person, but there's another part of me that says No, I can't be her!  The things she wants to do and say, cannot be me.  She says she will help me connect to Lisa and from all the books I have read on the subject I am pretty sure she will help bring the two of us together, as one person instead of how we are now, but who will that new person be?  I just don't know.

A year in darkness

I am 39 years old.  I have had nightmares, and regressions to my childhood for the past 10+ years.  I have been diagnosed with Emotional Unstable Personality Disorder, Post traumatic stress disorder, manic depressive, and Anxiety panic attacks.  I also have Hereditary Spastic Paraplegia and Arthritis.  2 years ago I went and saw a therapist and asked for help.  I felt at the time, that if I did not get help soon, I would be dead before the end of the year.  This is the journals of my year in therapy.  I have wrote it as it was written.  I have changed nothing.  I have added a few by-passages so you can keep up with things I do not say, and things that I wrote.  It is hard reading, but maybe it can help someone.  Someone who has been, or still is that dark place.  Just so you can know, there really is a light at the end of the tunnel.  It isn't going to be easy, but it is worth it.  It doesn't happen over night, and it takes work, a lot of work.  I still have a long way to go.  Unfortunately due to budget cuts in the mental health care, I am no longer seeing my therapist.  So I am plodding away as best I can.  But this is my journals of the year I had a therapist to help me get along.  


Wednesday 21 July 2010
I met my therapist today though I can't remember her name.  I think she may actually be able to help me.  I know I can never forget what went on in the past, but I think she can help me put things where they belong.  I hate that it's always in my life, it happened so long ago.  Surely it should stay there, but it doesn't, it's always here, in my mind, in my dreams, affected my whole life.  I don't want to be so angry and feel this rage inside me and when there is no rage, there is nothing.  The disconnection from the world, I don't feel anything, see anything, nothing matters, it's like I'm empty.  I want it all gone, or at least in a place I can manage it so I rule it, it doesn't rule me any more.  It's so hard and it would be so easy just to fall into it and be nothing, just empty.  I don't want to fall into that hole, I want to be a part of the world, I want to feel, and I want my life back, and I think she can help me do that, I really hope so.