I drank coke with whisky liqueur tonight (bough a new bottle the other day, tragically enough) when I was home alone because I’m having a shit day depression wise and knew my boyfriend was going to have his best mate over which caused loads of anxiety for me. So they ate dinner here and were heading outside just now ‘cause he’s a sweetheart who respects my wish to be alone, and when my boyfriend kissed me goodbye he was like: “What have you been drinking?” Holy - fucking - shit. I cannot possibly explain the panic I felt! I couldn’t very well be like: “Oh, I’m a little drunk right now ‘cause I’m coping unhealthily with things.” Not to him, and definitely not in front of his mate. I told him I was drinking coke and he was like: “Oh… it tasted kind of like cranberries. That’s weird.” Then he kissed me again and left and fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Now I’m even more anxious. He’s kind of against alcohol unless it’s a special occasion, so me being honest with him wouldn’t go over very well. But I’m thinking I should come clean later maybe? When he’s alone with me. Then again, maybe not. I’ll just use mouthwash and pretend like everything’s fine. Yeah, I’ll do that.
This is a pointless ramble post which will interest none of you, but I can’t really speak to anyone in my life about it because they’d freak out and I desperately want to get it off my chest, so here it goes.
when i see a clothing item i like and check the price tag
My relationship is going up and down like a freaking roller coaster r/n because I can’t decide whether to hate my boyfriend’s guts or love him to bits, the self injuring is out of control not to mention me as a person, I’m being bounced around like a ball between different doctors and hospitals with no one offering me any kind of stability while I wait to get accepted into the psych health care program in my region, only one out of four doctors I’ve seen these past few weeks has been properly nice and I wish I could’ve continued seeing her but apparently that’s not an option, everything is shit, I’ve wanted to die almost every single day for a month now, my emotions are living their own life and I have no means to control them, I keep disassociating which is freaky as hell, my anxiety is popping up at the worst of times and I don’t know how to fucking deal with it all. I feel like I’m going insane. I just want someone to call me up from the psych ward and tell me I can come see a therapist now after waiting all this time, because I can’t fucking talk to anyone in my life and I’m about to snap in half. I don’t even feel like I exist sometimes.
This is the third night in a row that I’m mixing benzos with alcohol and I honestly couldn’t care less, especially now that my boyfriend’s away and I don’t have to do it secretly behind a suspiciously closed kitchen door. I’m beyond fed up with this depressive episode and all of the other mental shit I have going on that doesn’t make any sense. Just fuck it. Fuck it all, and fuck it good. Cheers to unhealthy coping.