So yesterday I cut myself again, but this time deeper than before.
Its weird that doing such a horrid thing can actually make you feel calmer temporarily at least. It's like an expression of everything going on in my head that I either don't understand or simply can't express.
A little scratch doesn't do it for me anymore, I want to cut deeper and deeper, I want to see lots of blood or else i'm not satisfied. It seems really twisted but thats the truth.
I'm so so lonely.
Those people who are there for me and invite me out socially I push away and don't go due to anxiety, which means I usually find a million reasons to justify my non attendence ie no childcare ect but I know deep down it's actually my anxiety and fear of being in a social group.
Other people who have helped/rescued me in the past have wised up and are no longer there when I need them, not in the way I want anyway. I don' t blame them, I mean it's not their job to take care of me or listen to my problems.
The good news is i'm back on my fluoxetine and not been feeling suicidal for the last week but family life is rubbish at the moment, social problems are starting to become obvious at work, self harm has started again and I'm not feeling part of my church at all.
