I don't know what i want at the moment. I don't see a future. It is purely day to day. I get up throw myself at the gym & exhaust myself. In the last 9 days i have done 22 classes plus a 15 minute run plus exercise walking at the stables of about 4 hours in that time.

I'm going to try & cut back in the next week. Either i've exhausted myself or i'm anaemic again, either way the blood test J took yesterday will tell. I booked the appointment friday evening, as i drove home from the supermarket i could feel panic overwhelming me, the dizzyness was stronger & i just felt desperate. I think it was more psychological than physiological friday evening, so i was glad that as i was asking the new-ish receptionist for an appointment with J, E came out and when i replied to her question that i wasn't ok & the tears starting rolling down my face, whilst holding onto my hand over the counter, telling me how well i'd been doing, she told the new girl to unblock a certain reserved appointment (probably an emergency slot that would open up on the morning of that day) so that i could see J straight after the weekend.

Part of me wished E hadn't taken my hand because i wanted more comfort, just like when i collapsed into the ex-bosses arms when i saw him & he had crept up behind me giving me a shoulder massage. My mind flew back 10 years when she had given me a hug, before i crossed the line & got too attached. Although of all the staff she is still the one who will reach out & give me some physical reassurance.

I feel frustrated. frustrated that i don't know what i want. Angry that government organisations won't give me the answers i need. Angry that part of me doesn't want to accept help & is almost happy for things to stay this way, with me harming myself & losing weight, angry because i know i should want to be normal without appointment & the need for help. Yet frustrated that i can't lose control & cause the damage i want to for fear of upsetting my family. Part of me wishes that the cut catch a blood vessel & don't stop bleeding like a few years back, so that i have to try & get myself to the surgery to pray that J & K can stop it, but knowing at the same time that then they know whats really going on in my head.

I think thats the problem, i still feel that if the damage doesn't show physically then no-one will really understand whats going on in my head.

No-one can see the images i see - reliving the past, the damage i caused, the incidents that happened, the stress of being chased my police after absconding, sleeping in a church yard over night when i was on a section 3 and should have been on the ward. No-one can see the thoughts i have, the things i really want to do. How i want to damage my arms, expect if i started wearing long sleeves again now, especially when i go to the gym constantly - it would be too obvious.

I need to go to bed. i can feel that crying myself to sleep is the only way to release this tonight & i know as soon as my head hits the pillow, if not before, the tears will be falling.