I think I write these blogs in the hope of getting the saddness out, if that makes sense.
No one reads my blog so basically, it is me writing to me, yet, I can't bring myself read back what I write.
Once it's out my system, it's done with.
I have said it before, but I will say it again, this blog may of saved my life.. along with Olazopine.
So, how is my life going?
It's a struggle!
I was thinking to myself yesterday, we're in April 2023 now, it will be 3 years in November since I lost my dad and every single day, all through out the day, I relive his pain and death.
I know they say 'time is a healer' but when exactly? When will the thoughts about my dads passing get better?
As much as I am trying to do this thing called life, I can't help but think I need to medicated just to survive. It is fucking shit.
I'm still doing my Suicide and Selfharm course, it's going ok.
I resignate with everything I have learnt upto now and it's made me realise how far I have come.
I still want to die most days but I fight myself to stay alive.
It really is Me V Me.
We're in week 2 of the Easter holidays, no routine, really messes with my head.
The weight gain..
Let's talk about the weight gain from Olazopine.!
I have gained 2 stone since taking this medication.
Sort of stuck between a rock and a hard place.
I need the tablets to feel some what normal, yet now I fucking hate the way I look..
Welcome to the wonderful fucked up world of me :(
Anyway, if anyone ever reads my blogs, just rememeber to take each day, one day at a time and eventually (i've been told) things will get better.
Sending lots of peace and love your way xxx
June 14th My Son Is Coming Home.
The coroner has rang today and the funeral home. My son will be getting collected from Liverpool, Monday morning. Which means I can hopefully see him Tuesday. Its Friday today. It will be over 2 weeks since I last saw my child. As a mother, my body is yearning to see my son. I just need to hold him and kiss him on his head. I feel sickness to the pit of my stomach, I'm dreading seeing my baby in a coffin, I'm dreading the funeral. This shouldn't be happening. His funeral will be July 1st at 12.15. I just feel numb. Im convinced its not my son and he'll just arrive home at some point.. I feel hollow with a sick feeling in my stomach. A few of my friends delivered me a beautiful canvas of my son this morning. What beautiful, thoughtful people I have in my life. I don't really know how I feel or what to say, I don't understand how I'm still alive. I'm lost...
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