Monthly Archives: March 2014


I just crashed my parents car. Great, as if our relationship wasn’t strained enough as it is.

I finally braved the journey to my pdoc. I’ve never been a confident driver since crashing just after I passed my test (4 years ago) and this really has confirmed I should never be in control of a moving massive metal death machine ever again.

So it was due to mistakes of my own and the other driver… Basically I was in the outer lane and not knowing which exit to take, the driver on the inside lane assumed I was taking the exit when I wasn’t and he slammed right into my side of the car. I was in the wrong lane YES but I didn’t indicate to leave the roundabout and he should of seen I wasn’t exiting and slowed down.

I feel absolutely terrible. The car still functions fine but it most defiantly needs some bumps removed and a new side mirror. His car is fine, just a few scratches. I’m glad I was driving really slow!!

My dad says it seems like it was due to error on both our parts. After a bit of ranting at me he calmed down when I explained what happened.

I’m surprised I managed to coherently exchange insurance details and drive the rest of the way home before having a full blown anxiety attack and hyperventilating.

I just feel shit now. I’ll never drive again, probably will never afford insurance, and stay stuck at home forever like the recluse I should be.

15mins prior to the crash my pdoc was pleased to see how I was choosing to leave the house, even if it was to only get food. Well that’s now put to an end.

I hate myself and I hate my life.


My liver is fucked

After too many overdoses to count and a year of heavy drinking I think my liver is starting to fail.

I drank half a bottle of neat jack Daniels yesterday at lunchtime and ever since I have had intense pain around my liver area and many waves of nausea. It’s horrid. Really, really horrid. I’ve also managed 12 hours of tossing and turning broken sleep.

Strange how I’ve kept my drinking controlled and then one binge has lead to this.

I have the urge to run out and buy a few lot of paracetamol to really screw my liver but I can barely make it to the bathroom.

Torn apart, in pain and upset.

It’s hard having a psychiatrist father

It’s hard having a psychiatrist father,
I have no faith in his life’s career.
I think it’s all lies, there’s no saving me now.
I’ve come to far.


It’s the hours of longing to be dead but without the hope.


My anxiety is soo bad at the moment. I just jumped out of my skin because I dropped a crisp on myself.

Funnily enough I’m also watching One Flew over the cuckoos nest.