Taking time out

I have a lot to write today

Just got back from the doctors, I went for various reasons. My haemoglobin levels are really low at the moment (7 as opposed to the average 12) so I’ve been on iron tablets. I didn’t really realise it was as serious as it is; I just thought anaemia was pretty common. Apparently slight anaemia is ok, but my levels are dangerously low and the nurse said it could be a major contributing factor to why I’ve been feeling so low, and she also said that my concentration spam must be awful too. I hadn’t noticed but I’ve not been at work. Basically I had to have a blood test today to make sure they haven’t dropped any further. She said after only a month on iron tablets you wouldn’t really expect them to have improved (that’s more of a 3 month timescale) but if they drop any more I will have to have a blood transfusion. A FUCKING BLOOD TRANSFUSION! That’s pretty serious isn’t it? So yeh, one more thing for me to worry about, lush.

I told Cey to stop ringing me and that I don’t want to speak to him again. He rang me about 5 times over the weekend. He’s only doing it to make sure I’m sorting things out. He’s not even nice. He pretends to care about me, but only so I’ll do what he wants and he’s scared of the consequences if I don’t right now. Fuck him, or not as the case may be. He’s a typical male scumbag. I smacked his friend, spoke to him like absolute shite, and he still wants to shag me. What a twat. Men have no morals.

I had a fucking lovely few days with Laura last week. I was feeling soooooooooooo shite on Wednesday that last minute I got a train ticket to Paignton in Devon because I knew she had a few days off. Got there just before tea time, she lives just by the station so we went back to her flat and dumped my stuff and then went to this cool bar called the Boathouse where she works. There were loads of people there who Laura works with, about 20 or something silly and it was really nice and social. I had the biggest plate of Nachos the world has ever seen, and I only managed half or less. They were ENORMOUS. I had a few drinks, enough to feel tipsy but not drunk and it was fun. It was good and made a change to meet new people (new men especially) in a non bar/club environment. Usually if a man starts talking to me in a bar/club my guard goes up straight away even if he is hot, but this was all so relaxed and not like that. She has a lovely friend called Tim who kept buying us drinks, and wouldn’t let us buy him any back, so it was a pretty cheap night for me. This Tim was also quite hot although he reminded me of Tad from Neighbours from years ago. Not a bad thing I suppose. I was pretty much on form. I like meeting new people out of my new surroundings because they know nothing about me, and I can turn on the charm ad be whoever I want to be. I know that when I am not being a miserable bitch I am in fact quite likeable.

Momentarily I thought that maybe moving to Devon would be a good idea. It would definitely be beneficial to my health. There is not really any nightlife, so they do wholesome social activities like surfing, or playing crazy golf, or just having a “few” drinks as opposed to my “many” on the average night out. There’s no room for taking drugs because there is nowhere to go and take them, and maybe a life off the drugs and alcohol would, and taking up some sports would be good for me. But as if I could live like that. I miss Leeds so much right now; if I lived any further away from the city I think I’d go mental. Going out and getting fucked is my outlet and way of letting off steam; god knows what would happen to me without it. So yeh, I ruled that idea out almost as soon as I came up with it!

The day after the Boathouse, we went to Newquay! We were going to a secret gig of a band called Them Is Me. It was basically half of the old band Reef, the drummer from Bassment Jaxx, and a guitarist for Lady Sovereign. I wasn’t too arsed about seeing the band although all Laura’s surfy friends were nearly wetting their male knickers about it. The support band was called the Sycamores and someone said they supported Arctic Monkeys on their tour? Fuck knows. This band was fucking awesome though. I have checked their myspace and the stuff on there is old and does not compare one bit. Them Is Me were quite frankly the biggest pile of shit I’ve ever paid a fiver to watch. It was like going back to the 90’s when grunge was big (and still shit). It was just quite tragic to see, I think they even had a song called “are you ready for caveman love?” or some other bullshit. Everyone else loved them. So I went and chatted to the support band who were at in the corner looking equally unimpressed. Proper nice guys, said they might be coming to Bristol soon. Ace. After we left we went to Fistral Bay for a smoke, and it was almost euphoric. The weather was pretty treacherous, but my senses felt alive with it all. It was perfect for bringing me down after the gig and then we went back to the campsite. One of Laura’s mates knew the guy who owns Tregustick campsite and he opened it especially for us because it’s out of season, which was really nice of him! I came home the next day and went for a sleep.

I’ve tried to have a weekend off the drink, haven’t touched a drop and I’ve been drinking shed loads of water to give my body a bit of a boost. I feel pretty good for it to be honest. I haven’t really been out all weekend. I read a whole book one day, a proper cheesy love story that Laura lent me and I loved it. Maybe I am more girly than I give myself credit for. I also downloaded a thing on the internet where you can download whole albums in like 7 mins. So all weekend I’ve been doing that, and filling up my Ipod. I thought I was a bit bored with music but not right now. I’ve found my excitement for it again and I’m finding I haven’t got enough minutes in the day to listen to everything I want.

A few shit things have happened too but I do not want to write about them because I have been trying to keep them out of my mind and not let them upset me. So far it’s working. I’ll write about it next time I’m crying about it.

On a plus, I’m slowly putting weight back on. I’m 9.5 stone now, I want to be 10. I have noticed it mostly in my cupsize, but also on my arms and the tops of my legs. I checked my body mass index, it should be between 18.5 and 24.9 for my height, and mine is 20! So no-one can bitch at me for being too skinny anymore.

Today has been shit. I've just been on my own because Mum is still on holiday. I've been trying to clean the house, like properly sort stuff out because it's never been done fully since they moved on 3 years ago. Things have gotten pretty desperate if I'm cleaning to entertain myself.

I'm going to try and not go out this weekend, I need a detox. I want to go to Leeds at the end of the month too for Spam and Wynnes birthday so I need to save my pennies. I'm getting addicted to ebay, I've bought SOOOOO many cool clothes on there recently, it's a shame I have no life or anywhere to wear them.

I updated my photo album yesterday with various pics of nights out and festivals over the summer. I tried to skip the me and Rob pictures but it fell open at the photo of when me and him went to Elbow Room for Krafty Kuts, and a sob-fest began, I just wish I was that happy again. I ended up looking through all the photos and I used to be happy. Maybe not all the time, but most of the time. There were pics of my 21st with Sam, pics of various house parties in Leeds, pictures of me and Rob and they all remind me of happy times. Then there are the pictures of this summer and I'm smiling for the camera but I know I wasn't happy. I look skinny, and ill, and I wonder how long after that picture was taken was I crying again? I just want to stop feeling like this. Everyone says it will happen, but I've been trying really hard recently to push through it, and nothing is changing. I wonder will I ever be able to just be normal again. I am really lonely at the moment. I feel awkward staying at Mums but if I'm here I am just on my own. Aimee has gone back to uni, and everyone else works. I've been advised not to get a job so fuck knows what I'm supposed to do. I'm not sleeping again either so that's making me feel shit too. I sound like a fucking broken record don't I? I thought things were changing. These years are supposed to be the best years of my life. I wish my life was over.

Cey just called me to say he has a new phone. I wish he hadn't.

I feel like shit. I think the only reason I haven't done something silly is because I'm puppy sitting and she is a pretty good distraction.

On friday night I cut my arms up really bad. I had drank a bottle of wine and was really really down. It just turns my furious rage into tears, which is easier to deal with I suppose. I have been trying really hard to hide it and no-one has noticed yet but I'm sure my Mum will. I sound like a fucking angsty teenager but it honestly temporarily relieves something.

Last night was another awful night. I went out with Laura and her new chap Phil for a few drinks and everything was fine. I was having so much fun, and purposely avoided The Apple so I wouldn't see Cey. I'm banned from Thekla now by the way after Thursday nights behaviour. We went to Sublime, The King William, The Old Duke and then to Mr Wolfs! I really thought Mr Wolfs was a safe bet as I never see anyone I know in there, I was having an ace night until the the fucking staff from The Apple walked in. I had a massive row with Cey, who has now finished with his girlfriend of three years. He's a fucking arrogant twat and I wish he had just left me alone from the start.

I was so drunk, I can't remember why but I did smack someone and got kicked out from there too. I am just one big ball of rage at the moment, I am angry with myself and literally everyone else and it is becoming more and more uncontrollable. I wasn't even sorry and I'm sure he was pretty awful to me to provoke that reaction, but it's not acceptable and pretty soon I'll get in trouble for it. I was sick again last night. I'm just in self destruct mode fully at the moment and I really don't know how to stop it. Rob is out of my life and I'm still being mental. I can't blame him anymore. I'm not a horrible person so why do I keep acting like this? Cey did actually call me mental last night so now he's seen the real me too. I don't know how to end this horrible cycle that I seem to have got myself into. I need to get out of Bristol. It is too small. But I'm not strong enough to be somewhere on my own right now. I don't know what to do. Again.

Just when I think everything is looking up, I get put back in my place again.

Last night was horrible and I have a feeling it is going to get worse.

Hannah came round mine, we drank a bottle of wine, I had my confidence out for some reason, and I was quite aware that I looked pretty hot. We went to town, Hannah wanted to go to The Apple as she’d never been before and I was more than willing!

Cey was working, looking lovely as ever. I made Hannah go get first drinks cos I don’t like to seem like I only go there to see him. He soon spotted me, came over for a chat, told me I looked hot and asked me to go to Thekla with him when he finished work. This was pretty much the plan anyway so I said I might, all was going to plan. He was being proper flirty with me all night, it was really nice, and he was giving us free drinks, so I was fucking hammered by the end. We left The Apple and went to Sublime for a couple, where the barman was trying to chat me up too. Then we went to Thekla, it was some Indie/Electro night. I’ve grown to like some Indie but this was all proper pretentious wank. I don’t think I recognised one song, there was never anyone on the dance floor and the Dj was a cunt. So we went upstairs and sat down and drank more (a G&T was £1.50, I was fucked). I was having a really fun night so far. We saw Ross, Danny Upps, and their fit mate who I saw at Reading, they were a laugh as always and a bit of an ego boost. Me and Hannah went off to see if the music had got better so we could have a dance, and saw Cey coming in and he came downstairs with us. Me and Hannah went off to harass the dj and he went to find his mates from work. I saw his mate Stu too who apologised for his behaviour last time. Stu was really nice last night; I don’t think he’s a dick anymore. Anyway, saw Cey later on and he was really really off with me, I couldn’t understand why because it was a drastic change from how he was earlier, and he’d actually asked me to go with him to Thekla? He then told me that he’s got a girlfriend and that I was just a shag. He said I was so hot that he couldn’t say no. He fucking chased me not the other way round, he made it sound as if I threw myself at him but the last thing I was thinking was that I wanted to jump into bed with someone. The man who raped me told me I had it coming because of how I looked. Men are so fucking twisted. I’m so sick of being used. This upset me a lot, why did he bother to do everything he did if he has a girlfriend? Why text me to tell me how amazing I am, why get so emotionally into all my shit, why get me to go to Thekla if he’s just going to be like that? I recon that somebody turned up who could have got him in trouble with his girlfriend and he just had to. He is in so much trouble if I ever find out who she is. I was so fucking angry with him anyway. I don’t really like him or anything but he was a good distraction from Rob. And now it’s just left me feeling used and worthless. Again. I caused a massive scene in the middle of Thekla anyway and today I’ve got a message off Ross who barely knows me saying he was really worried about me. I think I made a proper idiot out of myself and now everyone will know how mental I am. Just as I was enjoying going out in Bristol again. Why didn’t I realise he had a girlfriend? His bedroom was a fucking tip, there were no photos around, I didn’t see any signs of a girl in his life. I feel humiliated. Now I’m worried Hannah won’t speak to me anymore because she saw how mental I really am. I text Rob too, which I am really angry at myself for doing. I text Hannah to say sorry but I’m sure it’s not really a consolation when she had to witness her friend try and throw herself off the side of a massive boat.

It gets worse.

I stopped taking my pill 3 days ago for the break for my period and I haven’t come on. I’m too scared to take a test after how awful it was last time. I’m such a fucking idiot. I’ve been so shit at taking my pill recently because I simply haven’t needed to worry if I take it late so I could have missed it at any point before I slept with him. I definitely took it okay after. I have a really bad feeling. I must actually be the most fertile person in the world. Why don’t I learn from my mistakes? And why the fuck was I having unprotected sex with a barman who I suspected of being a bit of a player anyway?

I’ve been trying so hard. But right now I feel like I need help, and I don’t know where to turn? When things start to go shit I can always feel it happening and I think it’s going to happen again this weekend. My Mum is going away, my Dad is useless and my brother is going out. I’ll be on my own. I’m already on my own. It’s a horrible feeling. Right now I wish I was dead.

The last few days have been a bit shite. It was inevitable that somewhere in this good spell I would have a few down days, and here they are! I haven’t really been doing a lot. I started to look for a job, and got one! But then I was told by ADT that I have to work my notice, even though Neil told me I didn’t; so I have to be sick for another month. Wack. Hopefully though I will be able to find work as quickly again, and it also means I am able to enjoy this lovely weather in the garden. I am actually the brownest I think I have ever been, it’s a frickin miracle I tell you.

I went to the pub to watch the football with my bro and some of the Frampton boys last night. My god the Golden Lion is a fucking dive these days, I can’t even begin to describe it. On the plus side; they do these crisps called cheese and ham toasties (no real ham obviously!) and they are immense. You can tell how dull my last few days have been when I’m writing about crisps. I didn’t really enjoy the football, since I was re-introduced to the sport by a certain Ward boy; it is very difficult to like any player that doesn’t play for Man United (or Arsenal!). Also along the way I seem to have developed a hatred for Steven Gerrard (the twat). So yes, watching the lovely Michael Owen score some goals was pleasant, but I did actually scream when Rio scored and got some weird looks. The inbred locals in the Lion didn’t seem to share my love for Rio, probably because he’s brown (or not blood-related to his missus.) The last bit of the first half, and the entire second half bored the arse off me, and I found myself deep in conversation with some locals. Cringe worthy.

I want to go out tonight. Hannah isn’t working and has expressed that she might be up for it, so hopefully that will work out. Hannah is a lot of fun to go out with, and I’d be guaranteed to get wankered which is what I think I need right now. I sort of hope I see Cey tonight, I need to drop the “I’m so cool and aloof act” because in reality there is no way he is going say anything I want to hear in front of a group of my friends. My friends are probably a bit intimidating and he’s a bit shy. Last time I was in there every time I looked up he was looking at me from behind the bar, which is a good sign. I just need to be on my own with him! The boys are all going to St Paul carnival on Saturday which could probably be a lot of fun, but I’ll see what happens Fri night before I commit myself to anything.

Ok, here I am going to try to explain about yesterday’s session with Dr Brooks. At first she just asked me loads of questions about my past, my childhood, relationships, Rob, and then she got more specific. She had read all of my case notes from the people in Yate so it was much more fulfilling for me than having to just repeat everything for what would be about the tenth time by now.

She then started to speak to me about how my brain works, and how she thinks we can help me. Some of this does sound a bit hippy-ish, and I am sceptical, BUT I am not ruling it out, and he therapy does seem to be based on a sound knowledge of how the brain works.

She obviously (the same as everyone else) saw that “the incident” two years ago has affected my life hugely both emotionally and in the way I interact with others. Although I don’t ever think about it, and I feel pretty numb towards it, it is obviously in my unconscious somewhere causing me a lot of grief. She explained a lot to me about cognition and I can’t remember all of the terminology here! Basically for this we need to think of our brain as having two parts; one which deals with basic emotions and instincts such as pain, pleasure, sadness etc. This is the limbic system, and the other which I cannot remember the name of but this deals with problem solving and rationalising and more complex thought patterns. When our limbic system is highly aroused e.g. when I have been suicidal lately, we cannot rationalise properly using the other part of our brain. This would explain that when I get my doubts, and times of depression, I cannot see reality. It is not just a case of pull yourself together Chloe.

Doctor Brooks seems to think two things will help me. These things are that under a sort of hypnotised or trance like state, we should think about what happened to me, and then do it in reverse, and back, and in reverse again, a few times. She thinks this memory is sat there in my limbic system attaching itself to all kinds of emotions and instincts, and in doing this; it might help it to pass to the other part of my brain where it can be dealt with rationally. Like I say, I am sceptical but Dr Brooks is very reputable and has been to Rwanda to help groups of children deal with their Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, which is one thing I was diagnosed with.

She also mentioned that we need to teach my brain to stop associating all men with that vile disgusting man. At the moment subconsciously my brain treats all men as a potential threat and it can trigger anger and hurt, even if they are someone as close as my long term boyfriend. Apparently there are various exercises we can do to retrain my cognitions, and break this reaction. She mentioned Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (which is what several Doctors have spoken to me about) and she said this is similar, although with CBT you can have to have up to 20 sessions to retrain your mind.

Before I went home we did a sort of yoga relaxation technique which I have to do for ten minutes everyday until our next appointment to help my brain tune into its subconscious. I suppose I shouldn’t be so doubtful, because hypnotherapy has been a recognised means of treatment for years. Although when she did start going on about Yoga and relaxation techniques I thought “Oh Shit.”

I am sceptical for another reason however and I will explain that. I don’t feel anything about that incident or anything towards the man who raped me. I sort of feel as if in the past few months I have tried so hard to deal with this, and slot it into its place inside my head. I talked to Dr Brooks at length about what happened, and didn’t feel anything, and didn’t even shed a tear. It was when we started talking about Rob that I was a wreck, I was absolutely choked with emotion, and couldn’t speak for crying. I hadn’t expected that. I don’t know what has happened but any pain or hurt I feel is now associated with him, and I don’t think this therapy will help because of that. She kept talking about “trauma” and that trauma was what we were dealing with, but I think me being raped has been replaced by what my brain considers to be a bigger trauma. And since it was not an actual event that can be processed I’m not sure this therapy will work. I also thought back to how I weirded out on Cey that night. I didn’t get upset for the same reasons I used to with Rob. I didn’t cry or get tense because I felt disgusted at myself, or that it reminded me of anything. I cried because it wasn’t Rob, and because I was disgusted with myself that Rob doesn’t fancy me anymore. It’s sort of as if everything has been transferred, and I’m not sure what to do about that. Now when I think of men and how I don’t trust them, I don’t think of being raped because I never trusted that man in the first place. I think of Rob and how he betrayed my trust. This is all so fucked up. Why can’t it be as simple as I didn’t trust men, but then I did trust one, and now everything is ok?!

Okay…quite a lot has happened, well not really but just stupid little insignificant things that I like to write about, and it’s been a few days since I last posted.

Firstly, my brother bought me an Ipod! Me and him haven’t really been getting on that well recently, I’ve been a bit upset with him for various reasons and he’s been a bit distant with me. Last week he had to work something ridiculous like 75 hours to get a job finished, and so this week he bought me an Ipod, as my old one is broken and last week I was moaning how I missed music! Bless him. I sobbed when he gave it to me. I think Mum gave him a bit of cash for it but it was totally his idea and he paid most of it. So yeh, Russell is back in my good books heh.

Went out Friday night just to The Globe for a curry buffet, which was lovely. Had a real chilled night there, it’s ace just to chill with the Frampton lot sometimes. Then we all got a coach to town! We went very predictably to Ramshackle (where I’ve been FAR too many times recently). I’m trying to lay off drugs, so I was just drinking but I’m getting a lot better at drinking recently. I used to get really tired or sometimes upset but the last few times I’ve been really happy, just dancing all night, and I even managed to stay up until 6am! I kissed this random boy too, can’t really remember much about him apart from that he was hot. I thought I had grown out of that stage in my life but I suppose everyone likes an ego boost. Saw a few people out who a few years ago would have bothered me, but it’s all very positive now and I can’t decide if there actually was any problems back then, or if all the animosity was in my head? Maybe I was just an angry little teenager; I think that’s very probable. I’m enjoying getting a bit older. We all went back to mine after Ramshackle and just listened to music till the early hours, I was supposed to go swimming on Saturday morning but I was SO hung-over there was no way I could have.

I was supposed to go out Sunday night but instead I went to see Pete and Freda, Fran & John were also down too which was nice. I was going to go back to Lutterworth to stay with them for a few days but I have an appointment tomorrow so I can’t. Last week I went to see my GP Dr. Brooks to talk about how I’m not receiving any treatment anymore, and how the next step requires waiting 7 months which quite frankly given my situation is ridiculous. She said she is experienced in mental health issues and it is the field she specialises in, and that she had reserved me an appointment for Tues (so tomorrow now) for me to come and talk at length about my issues, and then we can see what she thinks she best course of action will be for me. So I’m doing that, AGAIN for about the hundredth time. I shouldn’t be so pessimistic, she did explain a new type of therapy she was considering for me but it sort of seemed like she was just a Doctor messing with Psychotherapy. I don’t know. We’ll see, I’ll give it a chance.

Yesterday me and Russ went to buy Mike a birthday present, which went down well. He loved it. We then went to town to meet Jules, who no-one really gets to see much anymore since she’s moved to Bedminster with Rich. I really fucking miss living near town. Me and Russ were discussing moving out but I think living with him would be an awful idea. We did however discuss living in Mums house when it’s finished, I don’t know if that’s even viable, BUT it would solve the problem of mess because Mum wouldn’t allow mess in her rented house!

We went to The Apple which I was a bit apprehensive about because I text Cey about going out this weekend but he didn’t text be back, and I didn’t want him to think I was stalking him or something. But I was worried about nothing, he has cracked the screen on his phone (he showed me) so can’t read anything on his phone, only receive calls. He said he was glad I came in because he had no way of contacting me. He’s really weird and I can’t work him out at all. He text me the other week telling me I was amazing, then he told me he doesn’t do one night stands, totally hinting that he wants more, But then it’s sort of ended there? I think I’m being a bit stand-offish about it all. I was a bit blunt with him yesterday because I didn’t want to have a chat with him in front of all my friends including Pad, and then when we went to leave I just said my goodbyes across the room and left whilst he was still behind the bar. Yeh, come to think of it, I was totally off with him. I need to sort that. I just haven’t been single in so fucking long that I’ve sort of forgotten how to do things. I’m sure I’ll see him next weekend anyway, or maybe I should call him? It’s so complicated this business! Since I’ve just written so much about him I figure I must be interested in him? Like I said earlier, he’s quite weird but in a really interesting way and I like the fact that I can’t really work him out. AND once again it must be said how fucking beautiful he is, just everything about him sort of gives me butterflies when I see him. And I NEVER get that with people I don’t know, god I’m so shallow. He’s got an absolutely perfect face apart from these really tiny scars you can only see close up, I like the fact that he’s not perfect. Also, he must like me quite a lot to have been able to put up with my weirdness when I stayed at his and still be interested. I don’t know how I feel about him; maybe I just like the interest.

So yesterday we came to Mums for tea which is where I’m staying again now, and saw Granny and Arfie too. God knows what I am going to do for the rest of the day.

This post has been really cheerful. I am feeling a bit better purely because since I have been on Iron tablets, I have been sleeping again. Sleep deprivation is so fucking tiring, and for some reason the Iron seems to have changed this. I have been trying to avoid bad thoughts and seemingly I have been succeeding. I think I’ve just been having a good week, but I have been able to sort of hoist myself back up whenever I’ve felt my mood slipping. Something which I was incapable of before. Maybe being off drugs is helping too. And also the fact that I was been living at Mums, so have tried to not allow myself to ever be alone. I have been trying not to think about Rob, I’ve not been doing too well at that, but I will not let myself write about him anymore here.
However, still no job, no therapy and I’m sure if I moved back in with my brother things would revert back to the old way very quickly.

I shouldn’t feel guilty.
I shouldn’t feel guilty that my Mum is sat downstairs getting upset because she can’t find me any help.
But I do. She doesn’t understand that the reason we’re in this mess in the first place is because I am consumed with hurt and rage because of what has happened to me. I don’t want to have to cry to prove I’m upset. If I was fine with it all, we wouldn’t need to get me professional help in the first place. I just wish I wasn’t here, and then no-one would be angry or hurt or upset that we can’t fix me.

I need help. There is nothing available on the NHS for people like me; we just have to live with it. Pick up the pieces of our shiny happy old lives and try and fit them back together, even though they’re all different shapes now. I cannot do this on my own.

The minimum wait for any of the services we have tried is 5 months. The next step is private counselling. But I need long term help, it will take months and months, and at £50 a session I’m not sure it’s do-able. Do only rich people get raped? Since about May I have thought about killing myself nearly every day, there is no light at the end of the tunnel anymore, just a fucking ticking clock. I’ve been in hospital three times, it’s getting closer each time, and I’m getting more bottle. Make me wait another seven months and I will have more balls than the fucking army.

Right now I feel nothing but rage. I feel so angry that if I was to explode or something I would blow up the whole of Bristol. I don’t even feel sad, maybe just a bit, but only for my family.

He fixed me. It wouldn’t be like this if he didn’t just abandon me. He’s still sending me emails and stuff telling me he never wants to speak to me again. Fuck him. He will have forgotten about me in a few days, he doesn’t give a shit. I’m so bad, I ruined his life. He’s 27, he says this is the worst thing he’s ever had to contend with and yet he still doesn’t have the empathy to stick around. Fuck him.

I have been sleeping so much better for the past few days. I have been trying to eat as much as possible too, and today when I put on my green dress that is a size 6 it would hardly do up, hurrah. Saying that though, my weight hasn't really changed and unless I get my 10-12 hours sleep a day I feel fucking knackered. I'm taking my iron tablets regularly, and I've been eating a lot of prunes because iron makes you so constipated, lovely!

Today both KinErgy and Avon Sexual Abuse Centre called me back to discuss the messages I left on their answer phone last week. Avon Sexual Abuse Centre said I was not eligible for treatment with them as I do not live in their catchment area. I was a little pissed off about this because I don't think YMHT should have referred me there in the first place. And with KinErgy there is a fucking seven month waiting list for treatment after the initial assessment. Rape and sexual abuse must be pretty fucking common, there are a lot of shit men in the world, but I didn't think getting help would be this difficult.

So I'm back to square one, and without help once again. Me and Mum are going to go to the Doc this week to discuss this, and get my next prescription. Unless I get help, and see a path for future recovery the same thing is just going to keep happening. Right now I don't feel that disheartened about it all but I'm sure that will change without proper assistance.

Had a small amount of contact with Rob today, not a lot to say about that. He's obviously not very interested in maintaining any kind of friendship with me. Right now I don't give a shit, but I'm sure that will change too. It always does.

Me and mum went shopping earlier; some bloke was with his girlfriend and staring at me from behind his sunglasses, as if he thought I couldn't see what he was doing. Fucking twat. I nearly kicked his car door it made me so angry. That is the kind of aggression that I need to get fixed. Graham was a good counsellor in that we built a really good relationship and trust, but the sort of counselling I need isn't to just go into a room and offload. I need my thoughts to be challenged and if possible altered. Because I know some of the ways I view things aren't just different; they're also wrong. The doctor, nurse and social worker from last week agreed with this also.

In the police cell last week, me and Mum sorted so much stuff; I can't even begin to write about it all here. Mum started asking me about things from my past. But one thing which I didn't even view as relevant and had forgotten is how I lost my virginity. It seems this is one more thing to add to a long list of horrible sexual experiences with men. I was pretty young, and I really liked the guy. So did all my friends, he was really gentle, and not like other boys, and he was really interesting. I was sort of caught up in his manner. Anyway, we'd been on a few "dates" and we went back to his house as his parents were on holiday. We watched some TV, listened to some music and then started messing around in his room. Everything was fine, it wasn't forced or anything and until that point I was enjoying it. I thought I was ready to do it, and he got on top of me, but it really really hurt so I told him to stop. Suddenly I felt a bit cold, was very aware that I was naked, and erm a bit like a fish out of water. But he didn't stop. I didn't fight him, I pushed at his arms a bit but couldn't move him, and I just kept asking him to stop and telling him that it was hurting me. He didn't. I think it was his first time too, so it didn't last very long and luckily the ordeal was over pretty soon. I went home pretty soon after and avoided him and his phone calls until he got the hint and left me alone. To all his friends I was the bitch who just broke his heart by not getting back to him. It was all very immature.

I was sobbing when I told my Mum that story. I had always thought that I consented to that because I didn't fight. But my Mum was livid and from her reaction I see that it was wrong. I didn't just say no once, I said it until it was over. I have never really talked about this before either. I had always thought that my recent reactions to men in sexual circumstances e.g. Rob or Cey were completely over-exaggerated and that the things from my past didn't warrant reactions as extreme as these. But I am starting to see that this is not true, and that my views on men, although they might be wrong or distorted, they are completely valid. I really hope this will stop me chastising myself so much in future. I just need to understand myself better.

So yeh, earlier I bought some denim high waisted shorts, a shirt, a bag and a scarf. It all looks ace, ha I sound so cocky these days. My Mum straightened my hair too, so today I've had it straight and up, which made a nice change. Dear lord, I'm so boring. Being so obsessed with my appearance helps me to pass the day.

Need to make plans to see Rosie and Ju this week but I am so skint till I get paid that I can't. I'd also like to point out that it is 5 days since I was in a cell, and I still haven't seen my Dad. He invited me around for dinner the other day but as if I want to sit at a dinner table with Claire and Cheryl and whoever else. Don't get me wrong, they're nice enough but I don't want to be an exhibition when I feel so shit. My Dad shouldn't have gone away that day when I needed him, and he should have made an effort to see me since. I'm not just slotting into his plans in future, if he wants to see me he has to make an effort. I don't just expect him to fit into my life with my friends, like I don't invite him to town on a Friday, and I don't ask him to come to dinner with Mum and Tony. So it should work both ways. No more shit.

I also find it weird that people read my blog, not in a bad way! Just when I first started writing it, it was (and still is) just an outlet for my feelings when I have no-one else to speak to. I never thought it would be read by others. I don't mind though! I guess it's sort of cool if people want to read my incessant ramblings! Thanks to anyone who sent me a nice message/comment in the last few days too. Sounds so silly but when you're at rock bottom, little things mean a lot.

Fuck knows what I'm doing tomorrow, but I'm trying to just take each day one at a time. I think I need a job, but my Mum, and the Doctor from last week, seemed to think a full time job will be too much for me right now because when my counselling starts I will need to devote a lot of time to my recovery. So I don't know what to do.

Okay so I guess it wasn't goodbye. I'm still here, not really sure how I feel about that at the moment.

I'll explain what happened on Monday, it might seem a little cold but I can't be bothered to attach any emotion to it right now.

I wrote my blog, then spoke to Rob and then I went into my attic and made a noose out of an extension cable and tied the other end to a wooden beam. I then sat on the edge of the hatch for ages trying to get the guts to jump off. I couldn't, so then I got down and was contemplating stabbing myself when I heard a car pull up outside. It was my Dad. I put the knife in my bag and went down stairs. All he could say to me was that I was ruining his life, no "How are you?" or "Are you okay?" He just came in attacking me. That made me even worse, if that was even possible. I went outside and could see he was loitering at the front of the house. Took me a while to realise but then I thought he must be waiting for someone and realised he had probably called the police. So I went back inside, put some shoes on and went into Russell’s room to look for an exit via my back garden. I saw one, ran downstairs, climbed onto my garage, along the roof and jumped down into the street behind. Fuck knows where I was looking to go, but I didn't realise it was a cul-de-sac. So I just sat behind a car trying to think of how to get away, but then the police showed up. I was obviously fucking emotional and gradually they coaxed me into a police car and drove me to my house. But they wouldn't let me out. I hadn't realised until then how serious it was and I was so angry. They let my Mum into the back of the car with me and I was pleading with her to make them let me go. She said she couldn't. So I went to pull the knife out of my bag. I was going to hurt myself, but they all managed to overpower me and garb it off me. Now it was serious. I was taken out of the car, searched fully, and then put into the back of a riot van. We went to the station where I was detained for my own safety under the mental health act. I was taken away and searched again, seen by a doctor and then locked in a cell with my Mum for about 5 hours. We had a fucking long chat about things; I think it turned out positive. And then I was assessed by a mental health team, where the outcome was the same as it always is; I need to seek counselling to challenge my ways of thinking as a result of rape. After 5 hours in a cell I had clearly calmed down, and the Doctor even commented on how articulate I was. I sort of wish they could have seen the crazy me of 5 hours previous. So then they let me out, I've rang a few telephone numbers and am waiting for calls back from various organisations.

The last few days have just been as normal as possible. I've tried to make myself as busy as possible and surround myself with people at all times to stop me thinking about Rob or the mess that I'm in. So far all has been successful, every time he pops into my head it's like the thoughts get beaten down with little Chloe’s with sticks, in my head of course. I am feeling quite positive but I am also sure it is only matter of days before that will change.

I went out on Friday night, looking a million dollars if I’m honest and got a fair bit of attention. I know I sound so bigheaded but anyone who knows me will also know that I have so many complexes about my appearance that this is almost miraculous. I had a lovely night with some old friends and then came back to my Mums house. I went and sat in the puppy’s bed with her for about half an hour, just talking shite to her. It made me feel better at least! Saw some people from my past as I always do when I'm out in Bristol. It doesn't need to be an issue these days. Debbie was more concerned with my eating habits because of how skinny I am, and Ryan got my number and just called me for a chat yesterday, which was really sound. I'd quite like to be friends with him now. Also saw Neil which was a bit emabarassing, didn't really know where to look! So I sort of avoided him.

This is a very shallow point to make BUT... The girl Rob is seeing is actually quite ugly. I've seen pics and she has awful teeth which make her look like a witch, she wears too much makeup, dresses like everyone else AND from what I can see I think she's a bit round! Robs ex Jess was beautiful and it made me feel intimidated, if the new one was that hot I'd feel even worse. But no, it's quite funny. I'd also like to point out that Cey is maybe the most beautiful man I've ever seen in real life. It's so superficial I know but he's lovely and tall, has amazing cheekbones, lovely black scruffy hair, and really dark eyes. He's quite skinny but not in a gawky way, he has really nice shoulders and arms. So it's a fucking cheap shot, but I win.

I think Rob has changed his number. I said I'd send him a letter. I'm undecided right now. I think I'll leave it a bit longer.

So... I need to make some frickin plans for the rest of my life and stop sitting at home thinking about my twat of an ex. He really did treat me like shit at times, I deserved better. Even when things were good with us he could still make me feel like shit just with a few nasty words. I don't think it should be like that with someone you supposedly love more than anyone else in the world.

Also, I want a new tattoo!

My mood is fucked. This post is the most normal post ever, you'd never have thought that a few days ago I was plotting my suicide. O well I'm sure the tables will turn again soon.