Beth1596's Journal

I havent posted anything in a while, mostely because everythings been to fucked up to even begin writing about. It started going down hill from about my birthday onwards, it has actually been a complete downward spirall which makes me think theres no point in me being here, cause although my psychiatrist says 'things will get better'; they have to say that to give us some glimpse of hope to stop me going home and reaching for as many pain killers as i can find, and putting myself into a permanent sleep. Things havent got better.

Lets start with my birthday, 12th of september. I didnt think it would be a good birthday, and i was right, pratically noone remembered, which made me feel really special. I got no surprise presents, just aload of money and checks, because noone can really be bothered going out and think of something to buy me because im 'difficult', so the easiest option would be to shove some money in a letter, and post it my way. So anyways, two days after my birthday which would make it the 14th, i go out, and my mum calls me around 8 telling me i have to come home. I do it, as shes very clearly distressed. I get home, my dads fucked off somewhere, my mums in floods of tears, but we have to wait for him to come back. An hour goes by, he eventually wonders through the door, i get sat down, and with no previous knowledge, i get told my dads moving out and my parents splitting up. The same night i may add, i get a call telling me at 3pm that day, my friend of 8 years had died due to her 2-year battle with anorexia. I cried, but it was a numc, cold cry, sort of like my body was making me, but the emotion wasnt there.

15th, september. I get up early and my dads packing all his things. I dont say anything to him, but instead impulsively go out the door equipped with a pack of cigarettes, and my birthday money and decide to go shopping with my very unsympathetic boyfriend.

I figure hes unsympathetic because as a fellow child of divorce hes learnt to live with it. Admittidly it seems his familys alot more fucked up than mine, but then i think he liked to make me believe that, so that his weakness' would seem understandable.

After my boyfriend buys me a dress for the upcoming party (28th), he tells me how hes 'never been happier, cant wait to spend more time with me and he loves me'. And although he was severly flawwed, i did indeed love him back.

Friday the 21st, after a rough week with my boyfriend, as he says im 'depressed'. You would think after your parents split up, and all your mother can do is cry and drink, that perhaps you would be slightly low. But this was not taken into consideration. After a long, public arguement at school he decides a 'break' is needed. He didnt want a break, he wanted to end things but didnt have the courage to just say that. I didnt quite know what to do with myself, i started to question religion, and wondered if god was punishing me for something, even though im an athiest.

The next few weeks, were numb. I barely spoke to my boyfriend, it was as if he was just another stranger at my school, all emotional connection seemed forgoten.

Early october, i get a call from my bestfriend beth. Shes upset so i decide to go round. I catch her crying into a pillow on her sofa, she tells me her mums having an affair, and she saw the car pull up, her mum came in grabbed a bottle of vodka and headed out, not coming home to til the early hours of the morning.

A week or so later i go to lunch with my dad, on saturday. He seems keen to know if ive spoken to beth. After, an hour or meaningless small-chat, he gets to the gist of the expensive lunch, and his considerate behaviour. Hes found someone else.

That person, is my best friends mum.

Going to beths house later, for hours and hours we cried, and questioned why this was happening to us. My mum didnt know, but yet i had to go to her and act as normal knowing that my dad was fucking someone who also happened to be one of my mums best friend, someone who she had known since i first began high school , and im now in my final year.

My mum was told, i could see her feeling the way i often felt, and often do now. Why am i here, why is this life mine, and why do i have to be here anymore. I could see her feeling, like she was tired, and didnt want to feel anymore, when all she could feel was anger, and pain. Whats the point in living when every moment, you wait to be over. You speak to people but only because you should, your not speaking but merely making sounds. If you said how you really felt, you would frighten them, and tag into emotions people dont speak about in social conversation. So instead you sit and smile, and say what you know they want to here. Theres no compassion, no deep-feeling. Just words.

 My mum decided to move to edinbrough, knowing if she stayed here she'd end up drinking, overdosing on anti-depressants, or some other form of passion that resulted in me being left to deal with my dad on my own.

Meanwhile, my ex-boyfriend fucked one of my best friends , 3 weeks after our break. Currently hes hooked up with another one of my best friends. But if i explained how i felt about that, i dont think id ever stop.

My bulimias back into full swing. I dont go to school alot, because im tired of pretending to be someone im not. So instead im remain unsociable, and enjoy my own company, sitting and deciding whether todays the day, im going to end all this shit, or if im going to stay another day incase things pick up. I just think i dont have the guts to go through with it, or perhaps i know im being melo-dramatic. But it doesnt stop me not wanting to feel this pain any longer.

My mum leaves tommorow. Ill be left stranded, while she makes a new life for herself. Were selling the house, and my dad hopes when the times right, ill move in with beths family into a new house.

Im not some kind of saint, but i must have really fucked god up for him to be doing this to me.