I’m not having a great time. I am feeling really off both physically and mentally. Everything gets worse around my period. Last night there was not a single thing that could make me feel better, so I decided to just go to bed early. But I could not sleep and fixated on how fucked up my body is from the overdose. I got up and checked my emails and started a horrible exchange with a UK shop called “void clothing”. I had ordered a black emo dress from them, but changed my mind and asked to cancel my order. I then changed my mind again and sent them another email asking them to ignore my previous email. They still cancelled the order. They said they didn’t get my other email. There was no apology; I was always the one apologising. I said sorry for the confusion but I still wanted the order. The manner of the person I spoke with, who didn’t even provide their name, was extremely rude and unhelpful the entire conversation. They then accused me of wasting their time and Paypal fees and refused to send me the dress or talk to me anymore. Life was already so shit and I was in tears after dealing with them. My suicidal urges returned with a vengeance after being a bit better the last month. I managed to call Lifeline. The first person I got wasn’t very good. He asked me about my dating life and assumed I wanted a boyfriend. Usually I would keep my mouth shut and ignore people’s heteronormativity. He sounded like an older bloke who was yet to catch up to the times. But I was in a foul mood. “Why do you assume that I’m straight?” I asked him. Lifeline should train their counsellors better, especially as the LGBTQIA+ population have a high suicide rate. I think I accidently ended the call early, but I wasn’t too disappointed. I called them back and got someone much better, a younger bloke who was a lot more empathetic and gave me a generous amount of time. He tried to help with my sleep, suggesting I change my bed sheets. When our call ended I managed to change my sheets, which probably hadn’t been changed for half a year, the white no longer white where I lay. I still didn’t sleep well, but I did feel fresher at least.

I didn’t know where to turn last night. I almost drove myself down to the hospital, but it’s like running back to an abusive ex. The mental health system has failed me and even though I need help I will not crawl back to them. They have done so much damage over the last 12 years. The overdose, which I blame them for, has left internal scars. I also have a scar from when I ripped layers of skin off my arm with my bare nails during one hospital admission. If they hadn’t of kept trying to get rid of me and force me to move wards when I had miraculously found a room that was sensory-friendly then I wouldn’t have injured myself that horrible day. I tell myself that scars tell a story, that scars are a sign of strength and I should be proud of the scars I have. But sometimes I don’t want to be reminded of the damage the mental health system has done to me. Sometimes I just want to erase the past 12 years of my life. I feel like if I finally start to feel happy in life I will probably not have long left to live and enjoy it as too much damage has happened in the first 31 years of my life. There was the trauma growing up, and then the trauma from the mental health system which was meant to help.

Today I pushed myself to go out and do some photography. I am putting together a series of me in nature wearing a white hospital gown. I had a particular place in mind, a river which someone had dumped a large tire in. I thought sitting on an abandoned tire with my legs in the river would be artistic. I carried my stuff all the way to the river. It was a long walk. But when I got to the river, I found the tire had been removed! I was pretty bummed. I took a few other shots but they weren’t what I wanted. I then drove to some train tracks and took some of me on the tracks.

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I was about to vent to social media about the mental health system, but when I got home I saw my neighbour in her driveway and decided to say hello. I had never really talked with her before, but my dad said she was vegan as well. It turned out we had a heap in common, including noise sensitivity and the brain zaps I get when I’m about to fall asleep. Though I still feel pretty crap, finding someone like me really lifted my spirits.