This was supposed to be the year that things turned around. It’s been two years now of being in this hole and struggling to get out but I felt that, although things are still precarious, I was beginning to understand how this weakened mind of mine works and work around it. I had plans to get through New Year’s Eve, carefully laid out plans to minimise the feeling of isolation and to block out the memories of last year. I was confident it would work. It didn’t work.

I sent out new year’s greetings early so I wouldn’t have to stay up until midnight if I didn’t want to and wouldn’t be clock-watching even if I was up. Seems sensible, right? I can keep in touch with people and then stick Netflix on and pretend it’s a normal night. Breathe, keep calm, just any other night. Except no one got back to me. In all those hours, not one of the people I sent a message to contacted me. The tiny little logical, sensible, sane part of me that remains, curled up in a corner, tells me that people have plans on NYE and don’t necessarily have time to indulge their weirdo friend who’s probably going to try and engage them in a conversation they don’t want. Other people, I know, have bigger things to concern themselves with than me. But that’s the sane bit and, as I said (and as you can see), that part of me is minuscule these days. Just a dot. The rest of me, that big black mass, sees only rejection. I sent heart-felt messages. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe that’s odd. I should have stuck to “Happy New Year”/”Happy 2016”?

So rejection leads to isolation leads to paranoia leads to tears leads to finding that razor (now cocooned in a little purple bag, afforded the protection of some religious books, hidden in a safe place, neglected for a while but no more) leads to once again contemplating suicide, fantasising about death, or, more accurately, about not living. I get that holidays are bad for a lot of people; I have that empathy and that understanding but I have never felt as lonely as I do right now and it’s leading me to frightening places again.

It’s scary how fragile my mind is these days. All resilience gone. Happy New Year.



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