Goodbye hair!

I should probably preface this with a trigger warning – I talk about feeling extremely low and mention suicide.

I cut off my hair

Why? I’m not entirely sure. I’ve been really struggling recently, and I think it culminated in me having a breakdown and literally taking the scissors to my own hair and hacking at it. Which has left me with pretty a short haircut. My mum says it looks cute but to be honest, its ugly and I think I hate it. Its going to take a lot of getting used to and its not going to look okay until it grows out a bit…

So, why is it that when you feel out of control your hair gets the brunt of your anger? I’ve cut my own hair before but never out of rage or out of feeling severely depressed and uncontrolled.

What does my hair symbolise for me and what does it mean to sever it all off? I’ve grown to severely dislike my hair recently because it’s become very thin and I can’t get it to look nice. I’ve kind of given up on it and I think I thought ‘you know what, lets just fuck it up even more because I can’t look any uglier’ – and guess what, I really can… 

Fuck my life. Honestly. Things feel horrendous and I spend everyday at the pit of this depression. And I don’t feel like I’ll ever be getting out of it. Suicide has been on my mind. Its felt like the option for me with the least resistance and the least amount of pain. Of course, this pain would be felt by my family and my friends if I did commit suicide. The pain doesn’t just go away if I don’t feel it – its felt by other people around me. I don’t want to destroy my family even further, but I feel like ending it is the only option left to me at this point. I’m so sick and tired of feeling this way and I have said multiple times this past week that I can’t do it anymore. And this time it feels different, this time its very true- before I’ve said it and there has been a hint of untruth to those words leaving my mouth. But this time, I let them escape and they sit there in the air around me and reinforce that thought that I really can’t go on living like this. 

The thing is, I don’t know how to change things. I see people now and I’m in therapy but it’s not helping. I don’t really feel like its helping anything. I see one person for my eating disorder and another for my general mental health, but its all linked. It isn’t separate at all. Having this separation between myself and my mind is wrenching me apart. My eating disorder isn’t a separate part of my mental health – it’s a huge part of it and its ridiculous for me to try and tackle things separately. Because when I’m seeing my non-ED specialist and things about my ED come up it feels like a barrier and I feel like I can’t talk freely, and this seriously inhibits me getting any benefits from the therapy. I hate it and I feel like I can’t say anything because then the support might get taken away. I’m scared of admitting I’m suffering and I’m in this place right now because I want to keep up this pretence that I’m doing okay and I’m strong enough. Because I’m do terrify of people thinking I’m weak. Because that’s when things get taken away from me and that is what I hate. 

I don’t know where my mind it at. I hate my eating disorder for taking so much away from me. But I also hate myself for not being strong enough. I hate myself for how fat I am right now. I’ve put on weight and this distresses me to no end. I feel like I’m behind on uni work. I know what I want to work on and I am really interested in my work right now, but I find it so difficult to concentrate on anything. I am so all over the place. I sat on the bus today and cried in public. I hate crying in public, but I felt so low I didn’t even care, I just let the tears roll down my cheeks. It’s the feeling of no longer caring that scares me most – When I did care this was at least a little tie to the world but when I don’t care it doesn’t stop me from destroying myself. It was once a safety net – that I still cared a tiny bit about myself, but now, that’s gone. So, I feel unstable and free-floating in the world.

I don’t want to ruin my final few weeks of this semester at uni. I’ve got to make my way through it. But I don’t know if I’m going to. I’ve not had a good day in weeks. Things just keep spiralling downwards and out of control and I can’t pull myself out of this shit-hole.

So, this started off as a post about cutting my hair, but it poured out into me explaining how much of a shit-hole I’m in right now. Things are all a nightmare right now and I wish I could have a day without thinking about how horrific I feel. Minutes feel like hours and I feel like I’m dragging myself through each day, but time is also slipping away and I’m wasting days to this illness.

Who knows where I’ll be next week. Next month. In three months. In a year. I’m so sick and tired. So exhausted and I feel so low and out of control.

Sorry if this post is a lot, 

love and light, 

Lily