I cooked a roast dinner!

Today I cooked a roast. It’s the first roast I have cooked in 5 months.

A friend came round and we have chatted and cooked.

I did all the cooking in the relationship.

I’ve been living on scrambled eggs since he went.

It’s been good to cook for someone.

Today hasn’t been a bad day.

Dipsticks family haven’t contacted me as they said they would.

I’m ok with that.

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My darkest day. I hope i never have to go there again.

Please don’t read this if you are feeling crap – i don’t need scolding. I know i was weak and i know i was being cowardly. Its taken a lot to think about this day. In a way though it makes me think that maybe  i have some further than i think.

On the 31st of July i wrote about the day i reached what i thought was rock bottom.

I left my home with the intention of throwing myself under a large fuel truck.

I ended up at a doctors office after a phone call that pretty much saved my life.

I really believed after that day i would improve.

I was sure that as i was given medication, a caseworker and a shrink i would start a rapid recovery and i wouldn’t be in pain for much longer.

I assumed that the with all of that, and with the help from others around me i was right on track – logical right?

Then the day that i call Black Thursday came.

Days off are incredible hard for me as all of my routine was based around him.

I know that everyone copes differently.

I know some people are stronger.

I know some are more stable.

But i also know there is no handbook for this.

I have known this man since i was 11.

At 12 i told my dad i was going to marry this man.

At 17 we made it official.

I’m 26 – I have loved this man for longer than i haven’t.

I feel like his being, his soul is part of me – like roots of a tree. I feel like i grew up with him. His root have become part of him – How do you untangle that?

Black Thursday came a week after i had turned up at the doctors.

I spent all day in my bed.

I don’t remember how the day started but i remember sitting under the covers with a bottle of wine – swinging straight from the bottle.

I remember the pain

I was thinking about all the sexual comparisons he had made. I was thinking about all the tips he gave me on how i could be better in bed. I was thinking about how no man was going to want be unless i got down to 8 stone. He has told me that.

I’ve since been told this is called rumination.

A lovely lady commented about it last week and a few days later my shrink told me all about it,

Turns out she was totally on the mark.

I’am learning some skills to stop me doing this now.

But at the time i had never heard of rumination.

I sat in bed and as everything went around in my head i decided i was destined to live a lonely and sad life. I decided to end it now rather than  put up with anymore pain.

I took my writing set and i wrote 4 letters.

Dad.

Mother.

Dipstick.

Good friend.

I wrote long letters.

I slept in between writing them as it really took it out of me.

I wept as i wrote them.

I poured myself out onto the pages.

By this point i had finished the bottle, i got up and took a shower.

I changed my sheets (looking back it must have taken me ages – it takes me long enough sober) and i took my last bottle of wine out of the fridge.

I then in my drunken state started looking for tablets.

i reached the Valium, the sleeping tablets and the antidepressants.

This seemed like a great mix to me. in my drunken state i assumed this would be like slipping away in a lovely hazy dream.

I was in so much pain i thought anything must be better than this…anything!

So i took them – all of them. I also downed the rest of the bottle of wine.

I placed the letter by the front door and closed my bedroom door.

I wanted whoever found me to know what i had done and not just burst in and see me.

i stumbled back into the bedroom and got into bed i put i episode of NCIS on the laptop (i cant get to sleep with out some background noise even now).

I felt it coming on quickly.

I’ve never held large amounts liquid very well and drinking 2 bottles of wine in a few hours didn’t sit well with me.

I vomited everywhere, it was voluminous. All the tablets had came back up, a little worn looking at the edges but they where there.

I got back in the shower where i vomited a few more times.

I then slept on the sofa for 12 hours.

I woke up feeling like shit.

I have kept the letters. They are on my bedside table. My shrink wanted me to throw them away but i cant. He wanted me to tell my parents but i cant. i have told Good friend though. She asked me to throw away the letters but i haven’t. Its not that i plan to use them, i don’t but there is something pure about them – if that’s the right word. It was me minus any bull shit. It was exactly how i felt. I don’t know how to explain it. Its difficult to verbalize. I haven’t read them back, i look at the envelopes sometimes. They make me feel a little safer.

I’m sorry if this post has made anyone uncomfortable but writing seems to help. This is probably my last really depressing post. lets home anyway!!