I’m scared again.

My head is quite clarity focus but the lurking in the background is back

fdududuudududkcckckkkkkk

fuck fuck fuck

doing angry. grrr weirs icy shoulder shit.

Don’t like it when I thee fucking man anger is so fucking scary.

I hate me so much for even thinking I have any but I confuse myself so much with all m scared that bla blah bastard you diary cunth shit how so I cunting know i I’m know hwat I mean or say when I sayshit?

you’re a diary you might as well be a cunt of a shrink tell me about your mother comedy bullshit.

A diary can’t help me sort out who I am it’s just a chance to talk more stuff that I have no idea what I’m saying.

I don’t hate myself and I’m not confused it’s all groovy I just need to not pay too much attention.

Yesterday was such a weird day. didn’t go to bed until about 2 but was fully awake by 7 so got up.

Later on I felt really weird, kind of like lack of sleep weird but more so. My arms felt too heavy, I was proper weary and a bit spaced out.

Then I had to rush for a poo and I now understand what people mean when they say they have the squirts.

Sure I’ve had runny poos before but this was like weeing out of your bum. It was weird as fuck and went on for ages.

But after, just like ‘The Incident’ when I threw up half my stomach lining, I felt completely fine again.

It really seemed (both times) like I had some bad stuff/illness/whatever in me and first time i threw it up but this time I pooed all the bad out and was fine again.

I don’t know if it’s medically possible but what if I really do that? Kind of why I’ve never really been in: my body gathers up all the germs/gunk/badness/whatever and then just expunges it?

I’m definitely riding one of those up things on the bi polar stuff because no matter how drunk I am, and i’m not going to say I’m not and wasn’t when I decided to go to the booze shop.

All the messages I’ve sent to whoever and whatever I’ve said, I’ve felt the pull of the Sad but I just don’t can’t have the ability to hurt myself.

It’s strange when it’s there and you know it is but, to be all poetic on it, it’s as distant as the sun.

I almost want to do it just to get it out of the way for a few months a year whatever but then I think maybe it’s gone away forever and this is how it is now: missing it but not wanting it.

I wonder if that’s how you win? you don’t win by beating it and “winning”, you win by always wanting it forever, but never give in.

it hurts to not hurt myself but that’s a good thing, supposedly.

I have zero desire to kill myself any more because of people but they’ve even mostly unless I NEED it, stolen my ability to slice or burn my own arms.

I want to do the Bad thing so much right now to sort everything out and I can just go o bed with a bit of blood or a groovy burn blister or whaever,

but instead I have to be all sensible and not stab myself.

I just want and instant pain and then all the rest of the rubbish goes away.

I’ve just realised that the whole point of today was I was going to drink too much and get high and finally hurt myself.

I can even feel my left arm waiting for it and I could totally do it but, the fuck of the twat is that it’s only for when it’s really important and necessary.

And I just wan’t it to be important and necessary so that I can do it again but that’s not the new rules.

I am no longer allowed to set fire to or cut my own arms unless it’s life threatening mental bullshit release stuff.

And that is a cunt of a decision to make but if no one reads this I can do it secretely now and again when I’m only 3/4 of the way there and can’t be arsed climbing the rest of the ladder.

On the beer again. not had lunch. Will maybe maybe not eat tea (mind is already saying no) I’m getting fat. Beer belly fat.

I don’t care and that isn’t good.