I'm acutely aware that I am not in a good way right now.
I don't think hospitalisation is appropriate, or that it would be beneficial right now. Maybe in a few days if this continues.
It took my boyfriend a lot of prompting to encourage me to shower. Evntually he had to tell me that I smelt. Bad.
New Years Eve was supposed to be a good night of paced drunkeness. Instead, I got stupidly drunk. I still had a good night, overall, but I know that I was a mess. I climbed into a friend's bed to crash out for an hour or so, and I think I really annoyed his girlfriend. Firt time we meet, get on quite well, then they try to go to bed and I'm in it. Well done moi.
I'm glad that I am able to enjoy some things still, at least some of the time. However these rapid changes in mood are becoming problematic, particually as my main means of coping in social situations is to drink heavily. Actually, the only thing I have soberly enjoyed recently was meeting my baby cousin.
I met my mum at the shops today and I really found that hard. I hate feeling this detached from myself. She said maybe it is the new contraceptive, as she won't really acknowledge my mental health problems, and although I agree that could be a contributing factor it doesn't change the fact I'm struggling.
I can't concentrate on TV, even short programmes. I can't concentrate on reading even a page, although I used to read several books a week. I can't listen to music, as I'm finding it all too fast to take in. Blogging is hard, although can be helpful in short stints. Conversations are increasingly difficult, with me unable to finish half my sentances. I used to be articulate, intelligent, ME.
I want myself back. I don't want this, I never asked for this, I hate this.
Mental illness has turned me from a capable teenager with a bright future, into a young woman who struggles to care for herself and has repeatedly failed at life.
That is how I feel right now.
I have failed at life.
I was headed for fucking Cambridge and now I can't even care for myself.