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.
