Wish; take two.

For fucks sakes. I wrote all this out once then blogpost crashed on me and didn't save it, so I'm going to have to try and remember everything I fucking said!

EDIT: I think I've managed to remember everything if said the first time round, but it might all seem a bit jumbled, just for a change.

Basically, I'm sitting in bed wishing L would text me or call me.
She just doesn't seem to talk to me about anything.
I haven't got a clue what's going on with her brother, with her and P, or even between her and I for that matter.
I think she's worked out that I struggle to be around when she's on the phone to P, but it seems like that annoys her more than anything. I kind of get that, as from the off she said that nothing would ever happen between them, but it's still no walk in the park.
Things just seem so strained between us. There's things I want to ask and say, but don't want to because I don't want to fuck things up. It's killing me that my falling for her may well cause me to lose her. I told her I don't ever want to lose her when she told me how she felt, and she simply said I wouldn't. I just can't be so sure.
I was round hers for a bit earlier and things just seemed so much more...awkward. We laughed and joked but then seemed to run out of steam and gave up, just sat there. Then she asked if I'd been cutting again. I lied of course, but she knew anyway. She said at one point; "I really wish you wouldn't." One minute I think she doesn't feel anything anymore and then she says things that confuse me. Then she asked me why. I couldn't tell her the whole truth. I couldn't tell her that I did it because I don't know where my head is going, or even IF it's going. That the situation with her, or lack of one or whatever, is driving me to distraction. That I'm not dealing with the verdict as well as I thought, or with losing nan. I told her that things just got too much for me again, which while true, still felt like a lie. I can't work out how she feels about it either, obviously she doesn't like it but I don't know if she's angry.
I'm not sure why I'm telling you this, probably because, as I've said before, I find this therapeutic.
I'm not ashamed that I'm an ex-self harmer, though I suppose I should lose the 'ex' there, because my scars make ne who I am. It's peoples reactions that get to me the most. 'Emo', 'attention seeking' and so on. Ignorant stupid reactions, and if there's one thing I hate it's ignorance. People don't understand it, but think they've got it sussed. And they haven't. At all.
When I cut again, it was the first time for roughly a year. To be honest I think I've done well to last as long as I have, but now I'm scared the floodgates will open up again and I won't be able to stop doing it again.
I guess it's just another battle.
It's the not knowing that's killing me.
If she does still have feelings for me, and wants something, then great. If she doesn't, then I need to know. Maybe I'll be able to go away for a bit with someone and sort my head out, try and get rid of any feelings so I can still be friends with her. Because romantic feelings aside, she is my best friends. She has been my rock this past year I've known her, and I just can't face losing her. When all my other friends fucked off, she stayed. I feel like I'm letting her down. She says she realised she had feelings for me around the time of my birthday, and that she was pretty much 'in love' with me not long after. But I'm not the same person as I was then. Im vastly overweight, have zero conficence and I'm a complete mess. Then again, that was all true when she told me how she felt, and when I said that she said she didn't care, it didn't matter.
The other issue is whether she does move away. I know she hasn't been overly happy here in Exeter for a while now, and I think visiting her friend up in Essex has only heightened any desire to move away. I know she's been looking at jobs up there. I've just got this gut wrenching image of her moving to Essex with P and living happily ever after with him, leaving me here on my own again. If she does go, I really will be on my own. But I don't think she'd stay for me.
I just need to know what's going on.
It's H's 18th birthday do tomorrow evening, and while I know a lot of undesirables will be there I said I'd pop in for a drink or two. L said she'd come too and then maybe we'd go somewhere after for something to eat. Maybe we'll talk then. Maybe she'll suggest or ask me to stay at hers so we can talk some more there on our own. I just don't know.
All I know is that at the minute I feel like I'm going insane again, like I need to start my life from scratch, somewhere else, as someone else. But unfortunately that's not really an option. In a few years maybe it would be, but I need a way out NOW.
I just want things to clear up, or fuck off. I've had enough of this year, of most years to be honest, but this one really takes the biscuit. At the minute, I don't see a future for me. I can't see anything, no success, no happiness, nothing. Literally nothing. I can't see how I can have a future now. Nothing feels right. It hasn't for years. I need a new body, a new mind that works how it's supposed to, and new heart, a new life. I just hate how things are. To put it bluntly, I hate myself most of the time, and I know the saying goes "no one can love you til you love yourself", but I just don't really feel worth it. I don't know.
I keep wishing, praying sometimes even, every night before I go to bed; "please let this day be easier. Give me a personality transplant. Make me happy. Let me wake up and realise this is all a nightmare. Let me wake up, slim, healthy, happy, and loved. Loved by me. Give me some sanity."
And every day? Nothing.
I'm just tired, so tired, and right now I don't see a way out.

Apologies for being so doom and gloom.
And don't worry, this isn't some suicide note, I'm too much of a coward for that. I think there is still some small, hidden facet of hope somewhere in me, that tells me I'm not going anywhere, not yet, and not by my own hand.
So I'll still be here tomorrow, trying to figure out a way forwards.

Wish me luck won't you?
And wish my wish with me.

H.x

Too much.

Evening all.
Firstly I would like to say, before I get started on the meat of this post, a big thank you to all those people on Twitter who have been amazingly kind and supportive to me over the past month or so. It really hasn't been an easy time for me, but some of you in particular have been absolutely amazing.
I would also like to apologise to those same people on Twitter, and any other followers, who have had to put up with my erratic tweeting/moaning/general misery over said month. Once more, thank you.

So, it's been a while.
My last post was before the trial began, and also mentioned how L had said something that lead me to believe she had feelings for me.
First things first; the trial. It didn't exactly get off to a great start, thanks to the fuck-up that calls itself an 'organisation' (what a joke-as my auntie put it; "they couldn't organise a bunk up in a brothel) - the CPS. Long story short the trial either had to start from scratch with a new judge the next day, or wait until next fucking March; guess which option we went for? It was exhausting. Every day I geared myself up for the fact that I could be called any minute, and for the irate two days; nothing. I tell you, sitting around doing shit all in that environment really takes its toll. Eventually, on the Friday (when the trial was due to end, fat chance) I gave my evidence. I can't really explain how it felt, to have to stand up there and be cross examined. I'd told myself I wasn't going to cry, but I ended up in floods of tears. To stand up there, having to remember what happened that night, what he did to me, what he made me do to him, in front of everyone, and to be basically accused of lying by the defence barrister...there are no words. I felt...exposed. So entirely vulnerable, like my heart was being ripped out and my soul, my character, was out for all to see and examine. I practically broke down at one point. I'd been told I could stop at any point for a break, but I knew that if I left that room I wouldn't want to go back in. So I stood my ground, and told my side. At times I felt anger; anger that I had to remember that night, anger at the things this woman (the defence barrister) was implying, anger at the man who I thankfully couldn't see but knew was standing so close. Fury, at times, threatened to overwhelm me, but I knew I could not break, would not break. Besides the fact that getting angry and 'smart' with the defence wouldn't help at all, I just knew I could not let myself be broken like that. So instead, I spoke through gritted teeth when needed and through tears when I couldn't fight them anymore. When it was over, and I was dismissed, I felt drained. I cried and cried and cried. My SOLO, R, who was nothing short of amazing, a rock to me, throughout, had been allowed to sit behind me while I spoke, so was instantly on hand to get me out of there. We left and my parents enveloped me. We all cried. Then the court broke for a short while, and after that, L was up to give her evidence. I was outside having a cigarette and she came out 5minutes later. Neither of us were sure if we were now allowed to talk to each other. That moment then, me sitting there, her standing there, just looking at each other, me wanting to badly to just hug her, was horrendous. Finally we were told, yes, it's ok now, and I didn't want to let go. Having been through something all too similar years ago, I knew the process wouldn't have been fun for her, all the more considering her hints of feelings for me. To sum up the next period of time, I went to my brothers with him and stayed there til all my friends who were giving evidence had finished and then came round to his too. Eventually, the court day ended and we could all be together. That night L and I spoke properly, but that's for later.
When court broke for the weekend, and indeed, right up until the verdict, it all seemed to be going well. Our barrister seemed confident, and even the judge seemed to be leaning towards favouring the prosecution.
But it was all for nothing.
"They found the bastard innocent."
Those were the words my father said, and then he started crying. The moment he came in the room, the verdict was written all over his face, the pain, the anger, and the sorrow. My mother was crying, my brother was crying, my SOLO was crying, and L had gone outside to cry. I didn't. I couldn't. I just felt numb. It wasn't for a few more minutes that it swallowed me, but even then it wasn't sadness. It was anger. That fury, that rage that had held its hand over me while I stood in court, slammed down on me. But I had to reign it in. I don't think damaging court property and premises would have been a good way to end things. I needed to get out of there. Nobody knew what to say. I certainly didn't. Over the next few hours, when I had presumed I would go into 'shut down', I found myself able to claw my way out for breath. I would not close down. We went home, and over the next few hours gradually more and more people came to see me and say how sorry they were. There wasn't much I could say. At least it's over.
Even now, I'm not 100% sure how I feel. Angry? Yes. Sad? Yes. Relieved? Oddly, yes. At least it's over.
The system let me down.
Everyone, the police, the barrister, all my support workers, even the judge knew the right verdict, but the truth is, with rape cases, convictions are hard to get. At the moment the figures show that in rape cases, the prosecution level stands at 6 per cent. 6 PER CENT. Women are encouraged to come forward and report this abominable crime, but for what? For the hell of reliving it in a public arena, being called a liar, watching the hell their family goes through as they learn the details? The system is quite frankly BULLSHIT. That man's fate was in the hands of people who have no idea of the torment, the pain, the agony of living as a victim of rape, and they set him free, because there were doubts. I fully appreciate that the jury system may save countless innocent people from prison, but it's plain to see that it is riddled with failings. At the backs of the minds of every one of those jurors was the real possibility of sending a man to prison. How can you claim that would not have had an effect? Strangers cannot be impartial. Maybe there isn't a clear solution, but when only 6 per cent of these evil men are convicted, how can anyone say our justice system works? This 'justice' system hasn't only failed me, and rendered me scared to leave my house in the knowledge that he is still allowed to walk around, free and innocent in the eyes of the law, but it has failed hundreds of women, and will fail countless more. It makes me furious, it breaks my heart that anyone who goes through what I went through, which wasn't even as vicious as this crime can be, have such a small hope of justice. I am now supposed to move on with my life, build a future, but how? Everyone told me how I was right to take it to the police, that I was so brave to take it to court when so many wouldn't, but would I have simply saved myself the pain of those words: not guilty? Would it not be better for women everywhere to exact their own brand of justice on those bastards by having extensive counselling and building happy, successful lives? Of course it would, but it's not that easy. How easy would you find it if, as in my case, your virginity was ripped from you? That act of love, of giving yourself to someone so completely, with so much trust, that you had always warned the chance to give, was stolen from you? How easily could you move on, even if the bastard was incarcerated, let alone if he was allowed to walk away scot free? The justice system is a failure. Men who steal are convicted. Men who rape are not. Rape is stealing a woman’s right, rape is an evil act. The cunt who ruined me apparently considers rape to be 'when the man is violent and beats the woman up and stuff', according to his evidence. Is that not what rape will mean to too many more? The justice system FAILS US.
And I am lost for words.
What more can I say? What more can any one person do? One person who can't even leave the house and go into her local town centre because she knows HE lives nearby! Some small mercy, some small, small solace could, I suppose be found in that fact that his name was published, his address, his details. Anyone who reads the local paper and has the slightest bit of self respect wouldn't go near him. He will be the one who people know was accused, and I can only hope that others can see the truth, even if the court couldn't. I hold onto the conversation overhead by my mother in a local shop - on a day when the headline in the local paper read 'WOMEN WARNED AFTER TWO SEX ATTACKS IN TWO DAYS' my mother heard one woman say to another as they perused the headline; "well it's like that bloke who lives round here, they found him innocent but he was guilty as sin".
Small mercies, small hopes.
6 percent. Gone.

So now I have to move forwards.

My attempts to continue an education I desperately want but am unable to pursue in the full time manner due to previously mentioned inability to leave the house without feeling terrified, and my crippling body hang ups thanks to the weight that has piled on with the depression, have also been scuppered. The local college, that I did attend until it became impossible for me to do so, have the monopoly on local A Level evening classes...which you can only complete if you're aged 19 or over. What a joke. But I won't start on that now. Suffice to say we are battling on this one.

Battling. Constantly.
But there's one more battle that will not be fought anymore.
As some of you will know, over the last few months my grandmother has been in and out of hospital with various problems, and has been really very ill. As of last week, she had accepted she would not be able to return to her own home, and faced losing her leg. Then she lost the use of one of her hands. Then her kidneys packed in. Then she lost blood flow to her foot. Then the infection in her leg started spreading throughout the rest of her body. Then it was realised, that it simply wasn't fair to let her keep fighting, and in so much pain. The doctors and my family agreed it was best for her to simply make her comfortable. And then yesterday, she slipped away from us.
Fortunately, we all got to say goodbye. Mum, dad, brother and I all went to see her the day before. At that point she did still seem to know us. I sat with her, on my own as I had wanted, not knowing what to say. Seeing her like that...that wasn't my Nan lying there. That was an old woman, so small, and old. I held her hand, and she gripped so hard. I told her I love her, and would miss her, and would never forget her. I told her that I would always remember her whenever I eat Semolina and Ginger Nut biscuits, and said "na-night nanny nicely, bye nanny properly" for that last time, though I didn't know it. She wasn't fully with it, and kept saying "must be quick, must be quick", but when I said "I love you" she opened her eyes, looked at me and said "I love you too." When I left the room I turned and looked at her, and her arm was still stretching out to where I had just been sat. I'm crying now as I write this, and remember the last time I saw her alive. None of us actually thought she would go so fast, so it was still a bit of a shock. When mum and dad walked through the door while I was drying the dishes and L came down the stairs after her shower, I knew there was no other reason they would both be here, home at this time. It broke my heart seeing my dad like that. He cried on my shoulder, but I couldn't cry. I just felt so utterly numb. I think I barely blinked for the next few hours. I've never lost a relative before; I still don't know if I'm grieving right. When I was younger, my Nan was such a big part of my life. I'd spend weekends with her, go out on day trips with her, and spend New Years with her when my parents wanted to see their friends. I will hold so many good memories of her, but sadly, also many bad ones. I can't fully yet banish the images of her over the last few years, each time she was in hospital, each time she got ill again. I've never thought of her as old, but at 85, she had lived such a long life. A fighter through and through was my Nan, surviving wars, heart attacks, a stroke, cancer, nervous breakdowns...but she couldn't win every fight. She couldn't beat time. I still can't believe she's gone. Until now, I haven't cried much, I don't know why, but believe me I'm crying now. I'm going to miss her so much. She can't be gone. My Nan, the invincible woman, how can she be gone? My dad is being so amazing, he's lost his mother but he's staying as strong as he can. Sure, I've seen him cry more this past year that in all the rest of my life put together, but he's the strongest man I know. My sister, who's living in Australia, got to say goodbye to Nan when we did, albeit over the phone. Nan knew who she was talking to. She was so proud of my sister, so proud. I only recently found out that the last thing my Nan said to my sister before she moved away was "if you're going for 3 years I expect I'll never see you again." My sister really wanted to come home the day she said goodbye to Nan, but she's now decided to stay out there, which we all agree is the right thing for her to do. All this does make me miss my sister, which I haven't really done for a while. It's hard that he doesn't know everything that's gone on this year, but it's the right thing in the circumstances.

So as it stands, Nan’s funeral will be this Tuesday coming. I've never been to a funeral before, and in a way I think I hoped I never would. I don't want to have to say goodbye. But my Nan will live forever, where it really matters; in our hearts.

I'll always love you Nan, and I miss you more than words can say. I hope you're as proud of me as I am of you, proud I had you in my life, proud that I had you as my Nan. You will be my inspiration, to keep fighting, to keep living as I want to. I will not let this beat me, I will not. You never did. No matter what life did, you held your head high and carried on. You loved your boys, you loved their wives and you loved us, their children. You loved so much, and I will miss you so, so much. We all will. You kept fighting. Right til the very end when you still kept trying to take those bandages off! I will make you proud. I will. I love you Nan. I miss you. Please stay with me. Please help me live as you lived- with love and kindness, as I knew you. Na-night nanny nicely, goodbye nanny properly. You will NEVER be forgotten.

You can't see how much I'm crying right now. But I think I needed that. Writing that, and crying now, I need to cry. I haven't done enough of it recently really. Mum keeps telling me it's ok to cry, and I know it is, but I'm always afraid I won't be able to stop. This year has been, without a shadow of a doubt, the worst of my life. I won't be sorry to see the back of it...but I think I'll stay at home this New Year.

As for things with L...well...!
I feel tired and worn out now but I know how therapeutic writing is for me, and I know if I don't do this now I never will.
Basically, on the Saturday before the trial I think it was, L sent me a text that said something like "I love you more than you realise" so I replied with "Are you trying to tell me something?"
To be honest, I was mainly joking! I didn't think she would reply with "Well yes I am, but it's not the right time to tell you are it?” In the lead up to the trial, we didn't talk much about it, but apparently it was obvious to my SOLO and the other police officer in charge that something was going on! After Friday, L came home with us and stayed the night. I think we were all feeling on a bit of a strange high, I know I was. Having done my bit, I felt like a huge weight had been lifted, and we all relaxed with a few drinks. When we went up to bed conversation eventually came to what had been said in the texts the other night. Long story short (ha! I hear you cry!) she told me that she had feelings for me and wanted more than just friendship and I said I wasn't sure how I felt, but that I know I love her and she's my best friend and I don't ever want to lose her. The weekend was...interesting. There was a new level to our friendship that we both had to get used to, but it was nice. Flirtier jokes and comments, and texts between us that sometimes shocked me and made me grin a little at the same time. But it was nice. And after the trial, I came to realise that I did feel the same for her. I would be lying if I said that when I first met her I didn't find her attractive, but as I knew she had a boyfriend I pushed any feelings like that aside if ever they came up. She truly became my best friend, and life would seriously have been shit without her.
But then, after the verdict, things seemed to change.
I know it wasn't easy for her either, and she sat in for his evidence which undoubtedly brought back a lot of unpleasant memories. She went away the next weekend as she had already planned, for a friend’s house warming party, and when she left things didn't feel right. She said she needed some time to think and we'd talk when she got back. Only we didn't. And then she had to go back up to Essex to see him again. And then her closest brother was rushed into hospital, where, as far as I know as she isn't telling me much, he still is. There's also the matter of P, her brothers best friend who she had a thing with a while back, is really close to and is completely in love with her. And basically, it would seem she doesn't know how she feels. He knows about how she says she feels for me, and he was more than a little shocked apparently. Other than him, no one else knows. I just don't know what to do. She's obviously been spending a lot of time with P recently because of her brother, but it's hard. I'm trying to be understanding, and be there for her, but when she doesn't tell me what's going on and when she doesn’t talk to me, it's hard to know what to do. She keeps saying there's a couple of things she's wants to say to me but she also doesn't want to, and that if I push her she won't say anything. I also now know she spent the night with P last night, and whilst she says nothing happened, that he was just there to talk about her brother and then they had a fair few drinks and he just ended up staying, and while I believe her, I'm just struggling. They have a lot of history that I know about, and whilst she says she loves me and misses me when she's not with me, when she's on the phone to him or texting him I find it hard to even be in the same room. I haven't spoken to her about it, because with everything going on in both our lives I don't want to upset the balance, but I just don't know how much more I can take. I don't know what's going on between us, between her and P, I don't know how her brother is, and she won't talk to me. She's says she knows she can talk to me about anything and that I'm one of the few people she trusts, but then seems to be holding so much back from me. I don't think it’s just 'jealousy' but I don't know what to do. Blame it on my star sign Taurus or whatever, but when I fall for someone I fall hard. This is only the second time I've ever felt like this, and the other girl I badly fell in love with decided to cut me out of her life when she found out I liked her. I so don't want to lose L, but I don't know what to so.

Things are just stacking up again. When the trial ended, other than the feelings I had over the verdict, I also felt relieved it was over. But now, I think I'm not dealing with it as well as I thought, and now Nan’s gone and the situation with L is getting unbearably painful for me and with everything else, I'm just starting to feel overwhelmed again. I've already regrettably reverted to 'old habits' as it were once and I just don't know what I'm doing most of the time. I can't switch off, can't relax, can't breathe, can't sleep brilliantly again, despite this glorious new bed. Most days I'm walking round with my head working a mile a minute and freaking out. Mainly about L if I'm honest. I'm just worrying about everything. I don't think my medication is helping massively at the moment, and my psych nurse was planning to change my medication soon so I'm worrying about that too!
Part of me just wants to get fucked hammered and pass out, part of me wants to go and smash things, part of me wants to curl up in a ball and die, part of me wants to scream and shout and cry, but no one part of me can decide what I actually AM going to do.

So right now I'm lying awake crying, worried about L because she was going home tonight to meet with her brothers doctor to discuss his situation and I haven't heard from her, worried about mum and dad, worried about how my brother's coping with Nan being gone, worried about my sister on her own on the other side of the fucking world and wondering what the hell the last 3 months of this shitty year are going to throw at me now.

But other than all of that, everything is rosy in this Finch's garden.

Time to get some sleep now I think. Apologies for the length of this post again, as you can see a lot has been going on since my last post so it was sort of necessary. Thank you once more for your support. I just hope it can be enough.

H.x

Friday - G Day?

A date has been set for my grand coming out to my parents. Oh deep joy. My SOLO needs to take another statement from me as I myself didn't actually mention my sexuality in my statement, so she's coming round on Friday. That's when they'll know.
I'm shitting myself. I've kept it secret this long. I'm angry that all that happened means I have to tell them. I'm scared.
I also have to decide what to do about my brother. My SOLO is coming round at 1pm and officially finishes work at 4pm. My parents will come home at lunch time. My brother is moving house that evening and Saturday morning so he also has Friday afternoon off. He asked if he wanted me there. None of them know why she's coming round though. I have to decide whether to tell him at the same time as mum and dad, seeing as they'll have to help him move house straight after receiving this bomb shell.
No clue what to do.
No clue how to actually physically tell them.

I think tomorrow I'll take my auntie up on that offer of a phone call.

Half out.

So last night I came out to my auntie.


I woke up yesterday feeling a bit nervous, knowing that I'd be spending the day with my auntie and uncle which meant telling her soon. We had a lovely day, and I didn't think about telling her yet. I figured it'd be easier after a couple of drinks in the evening and I was going to find it harder to get her on her own while we were out and about in Camden. So I tried to forget about it for a while. Then we went out for a meal when grandad joined us, and then all went back to his for drinks and games. It was girls v boys for 'Who's in the bag?' and I'm pleased to say we thrashed them :) then we played some cards and I lost a fair few chips :( Now I'd been hoping that my auntie and uncle were going to stay a bit later, but at about midnight they called to see when a taxi would be available. Just my luck, somehow in London on a Saturday night they could get one to her in 5-10 minutes. I was almost all out of time. I went to the bathroom and tried to gear myself up for what I had to do. I went and stood by the door and tried to motion my auntie to come outside. A bit of confusion ensued when mum thought I wanted to talk to her so my plan of doing it subtly so mum wouldn't really know I was talking to her sister was dead. Eventually I did manage to get my auntie outside. She figured I just wanted a lighter but I told her that yes that was true but also I needed to talk to her. I babbled for a bit about how I was shitting myself about doing this and how I'd been nervous about it from when I woke up and how now she'd booked a taxi it was now or never. She told me 'just spit it out' :) so I said, "Its about what happened at new years" (my mum told her recently, so I know she knows) "the reason it was even harder is because, well, I...don't...like........men".
Basically I won't go into specifics because I'd had a few drinks so can't remember exactly which way round the conversation happened from then on in, but along the way I just said how scared I was about telling mum and dad but that I HAD to tell them because I was told that it WOULD come up in court. (On another note, if it turns out it doesn't come up in court, 'peeved' would not cover it.) Anyway, I won't say that anything she said has dissolved all worry in my mind, because she'd have to be a magician to do that, but it did help. I said that I wanted to tell her because she's the more liberal of the sisters and having been related to mum for longer than I have, obviously, she might be able to help me sound mum out, as it were. Now, I duly discovered that my auntie is beyond the level of cool than I suspected. Turns out she's had daliances with the fairer sex herself, though I'm not to tell mum that lol, and that she'd be more bothered about having a Conservative in the family :)
At one point I said I didn't want her to hate me, and she just told me not to be stupid, so I guess that's that question answered. We also spoke about my sister, and it turns out I'm not the only one who has suspicions about my sisters sexuality. But that's for another day.
Then my uncle called out and said the taxi had arrived, so we had to cut it short. We had a big hug and she told me to text her or call her in the week. Mum looked a bit confused as we all said goodbye, but I just told her I was just having a chat. Then I had another drink and the four of us that were left gambled a bit more.
I was also a bit nervous of seeing my auntie in the morning when they came round to pick up their car, but I needn't have been. They weren't there for long, staying long enough to wish us a safe journey home. We all said goodbye and my auntie gave me another hug and said in my ear, just loud enough for me to hear, though mum looked confused again, to call her in the week. I think I will.

So now I'm sat in an oven car on the motorway, melting, going home. Back to the bunnies :)
I may nap. I may not. I will definately sneeze....ouch, just did. That one bloody hurt!

Next up: all out - the parents!!'n

FUCK.

Getting to me.

All this stress is kind of getting to me now. Been pushing everything to the back of my mind every day, but sitting just listening to music I've got nothing really to distract my attention.
Stressed about my driving.
Stressed about the court case.
Stressed about the verdict and what I'm scared it'll be, judging by statistics.
Stressed about coming out to my parents.
Stressed about my weight.
Stressed about my friends.
FREAKING OUT basically.
And it's making me worry that I might not be able to stop myself from reverting to old habits of stress relief.

Phone calls.

I've decided I'm going to ring my SOLO tomorrow and arrange to go see her to talk about coming out to my parents. I'm bricking it. But I think that'll be the first step.
Then I need to keep trying to call my ISVA to arrange the tour/visit of the court and also a time to meet with her. I think I need to come out to her and explain why it's so stressful for me lately. Again, this will be another step.

When I'm not making these phone calls I will be shopping for some new clothes to take to London. I don't have any trousers as they are all now stupidly short and my tshirts are boring. I don't shop often so kind of looking forwards to it and dreading it at the same time.
Very much looking forwards to buying some new shoes though :) of course I am, I'm a woman! Even if the shoes I like aren't the most girly. At all. But I likes my shoes and my current ones are a right state.
Also picking up computers :)

Cut up, come out: I'm scared.

* * *

PLEASE NOTE; The spelling, grammar and sense of this may have gone all to shit as this was written at about 2-3AM, and was all basically a stream of conciousness. Please forgive me any such misdemeanors.

ALSO; Please comment on this post with your thoughts. I'd prefer it to sending me something on Twitter as I'll only lose the tweets, at least here it's all in one place.

* * *

Watched a BBC documentary about self harmers this evening and it's suddenly brought a lot of shit back.
Oddly enough it's not just the shit of my own history with the matter, but the future. More specifically the fact I have to come out to my parents.
To say I'm petrified would be putting it lightly.
I honestly feel like I can't do it. They've been through enough over the past few months, they've been through what I've been through in a sense, and I just feel like would just destroy them.

I hate that I think that.
I hate that I think that their daughter being gay would be the end of life as they know it, but I kind of do.
They're from a different generation, a different 'time' and I just don't know how they'll deal with it.
Plus things that my mum and dad say sometimes just make me even more scared of telling them. Of course, I know they wouldn't say some of the stuff they do if they knew, in a way it's a bit like... I don't know, talking about cancer in a room with someone who cancer, but you don't know they do, so some of the things you say might seem harsh whereas if you knew, things would be said differently.
Then there's what my mum used to say and look like while my sister was at Uni and living with a lesbian. Who is now a close friend of my sisters. Actually a lot of her friends seem to be lesbians. And she has rather lesbian-orientated nicknames. In other words there's every possibilty that my sister is also gay, and mum has always seemed petrified of that possibilty.
There's the added fear that if she IS my mum might feel the whole 'no grand children' thing. (Uh, mum, you also have a son. And he's definately straight.) and my mum might think she's a failure or something stupid.
Then again, if my sister is gay but I get in there and tell mum and dad first, SHE'LL be the one more likely to get that speech.
I'm so scared.
I don't want them to think anything has changed.
All the cliches apply: I'm still the same person etc. I really am though that's the thing. I've known for a silly amount of years. I've known I'm gay for longer than I haven't, so they've been living with me as I am, as it were.
I'm just so scared.
My mums faith is quite important to her as well, even thought it's been tested quite vigorously over the course of her life, and it just scares me that I'm essentially 'unholy', 'wrong' and against her religion.
In everything I've done in my life, the foremost thought is that I never want to disappoint my parents.
But then I think, I have stuffed up in the past, big time, and they've never been 'disappointed' with me despite the shit I've done.
It's just so confusing.
I keep trying to put it off, but it has to be done.
But it has to be done fairly, for everyone.
I always knew I wasn't just going to let then find out in the courtroom, as that would be horrible for them, but now it's about finding the right time. The right time for me so I feel ok about it but also so that they can have enough time before the trial to get 'used to it' as such.
I need them fully on my side.
Of course I'd hope and in a way I am sure they wouldn't 'abandon' me in that sense in my hour of need, but it's just so scary.
On one hand, if anything this is the perfect time to tell them; they can't chuck me out or disown me as it would be utterly shameful if they did, and the fact that my sexuality made what happened even worse, (eg I like girls so why would I want to have sex with him) so perhaps I'd get the 'sympathy' there.
It's so much more complicated than that though.
I'd always maintained I wasn't going to tell them, if not innthe near future perhaps never. Some of my friends didn't understand that but eventually respected the fact it was my decision to make.
Obviously there have been many, many times when I've wanted, needed them to know.
Part of the reason behind all the self harm shit and my depression is because of the homophobia and related bullying. Part of my problems with my friends is because most of them have shown by their actions and words that they're not nearly as ok with my being gay as they tell me. Part of the reason I've felt so utterly fucked up in the past is because I've not been able to talk to my mum about falling in love etc like any normal teenage girl.
But mostly, I'm scared shitless that they'll hate me.

Then, only is theire the question of WHEN, but also HOW.

I've only ever really said the words "I'm gay" or "I'm a lesbian" to... hmm let me think... one adult? And that was my SOLO. And she knew anyway, and had to tell me she knew, and that it would come up in court etc.
The way I told my friends was a combination of accidental outbursts/slip-ups or entirely correct guesswork on their part. Then it got spread around the school so I never really had to deal with the issue of coming out to anyone. (And that's the other thing, once you've 'come out' it's not as simple as just doing it the one time. You have to do it for practically everyone you know really. You straight people have it so easy.)

So how the fuck am I meant to do this?

I don't feel like I can say the actual words to them. One way to break the fear of telling adults I suppose would be to tell my ISVA. She's essentially my counsellor for the period of time leading up to the trial. Thinking about it, I probably should tell her as the stress of having to tell mum and dad is part of my shit right now, and it's being part of the trail.

So that then leaves me with very few options as far as I can see. My initial idea, while although possible yes a bit 'chicken', is to tell them in a letter. This would be preferable for many reasons; A) I don't have to say it, B) I won't have to see their faces and C) they can't interrupt. And boy are they likely to do that. And there's a lot I'd need to say. So I could write the letter, put it somewhere not too obvious but easy enough to find of they know where it is, then essentially 'leg it' and go somewhere with a couple of friends, text mum and dad and tell them there's a letter they need to read and to text or call me when they feel they can.

That's one option.

Another is to tell them face to face, but with 'back up'. Plenty of people have offered to fill such a role, eg my two best friends and the aforementioned SOLO officer, so I'm not short of options there. Best friend A (oldest friend) probably wouldn't know what to say but she is like a member of the family; best friend B would probably know better what to say and is also like a family member, but due to the nature of our friendship and the way we are with each other we've both agreed that my parents might think she's my girlfriend or that something is a least going on. She's not, and there isn't. The third is a highly supportive nice and friendly police officer (eg parents can't get physical lol) with children of her own and a best friend who is a lesbian and she was the first adult to know. Would seem easy to choose amongst that lot.

Then there's the option that I tell each parent separately. Eg. Dad first. As I think he'd react better. But I'm scared I could be wrong. I reckon dad would be more ok with it than mum, but what if it's the other way round?

Or I could tell another family member first and they could help me out. My brother might just be cool with it, but it's kinda cutting it fine to sort it out in a way. But he knows what it's like to feel like an outsider (to clarify, he's not gay. My sister might be, but that's another matter. As you have read.) so he'd probably be ok with it. Plus, he never had a little brother and my dad isn't the most sexually charged (or even interested) man, thank god, so my brothers never really had that person he can talk to about girls. And neither have I. Plus plus, he's so protective of me that he honestly probably wouldn't care less as long as I'm happy. He's lovely like that.
Or there's my aunty, my mums sister. She lives in London but we're going up there next week and she now knows about what happened so there'd be no need to tell her about that. And even though she's only something like 5 years younger than my mum, she's always been quite a bit more... liberal, shall we say :) she's an absolute riot! So that's another option.

But I don't have nearly long enough to work all this out.
The 23rd September is only really just under 2months away. I just don't know what to do. I don't really want to do anything in one way, I don't want to tell them.
But I don't have a choice.
Of I want to have any chance of getting justice, I have to tell them.

Help me?

Anyone got any experience in this matter? Or even of you don't, do you have any advice? Out of the ideas I've mentioned, which one seems best? Or is there another way I could do it, that I haven't thought of? (more than likely).

Please help.

I need the advice of the people that I feel, by now, I can listen to and trust and who know me a bit. That's YOU, by the way, just so we're clear.

Please comment on this post with your thoughts. I'd prefer it to sending me something on Twitter as I'll only lose the tweets, at least here it's all in one place.

Thank you.
I'm really feeling at a bit of a loose end here. It can't be good for me.

H.xx

Final warning; Chapter closed...

...but to be revisited at some point in the future.

Care to explain? Of course.
So this evening I went to my local police station to receive my final warning. All in all it went ok. The sargeant or whoever he was, was a very nice man who seemed fairly sympathetic to my situation, and the seemingly random woman in the corner (who turned out to be from the Youth Offending Team) was equally so. He admitted that initially, upon reading the case notes and statements from the bouncers etc, he was all ready to get me banned from al pubs and clubs in Exeter, but that after reading the background and talking to me, he realised that really wasn't necessary. Something to be thankful for. He did what I presume is the usual "what have you learnt from this?" things, and spoke about how important it is that I learn to balance my medication with alcohol etc. But in general he seemed to understand why what had happened had happened, and expressed his sympathies for the shit life's thrown at me recently.

Then he threw a little curve ball at me.


He first explained that a final warning is basically a "does what it says on the tin" jobby, in that if I get into any more trouble with the police, it'll be a caution and/or prosecution. Then he asked me what I wanted to do in my future life, career wise. I was a little confused but not overly worried, so told him that one of my passions has always been teaching, so that'd be something I'd want to persue in the future.

Upon my saying the word "teaching" he gave the YOT rep a little look. Ah. A problem.

Basically, long story short when it comes to a final warning, although it is not a criminal record and so when applying for normal jobs I wont have to tick "yes" to the criminal question, it is the kind of information still held on me. So when I apply for any job that calls for an extended CRB check, (eg teaching) then it will be available to the employer. I was advised by the YOT rep that in such a case, its much better to 'own up' as it were, tell them before they ask you why you were hiding it when they do a check, and then I'm more than likely to get a chance to explain the situation and how/why it happened. The fact that it happened when I was 17, following another trauma, was basically a case of self-defense that went a little too far and that it was classed as common assault (the lowest form of assault), meant that the sargeant was inclined to think that it would be surprising if an employer were not to act sympathetically about it. Talking to my dad too, he told me that people have got jobs as a teacher with much worse on their records, so I probably shouldn't be too worried. Although that may be the case, there is obviously a part of me that is upset by that revelation. It just feels like one more thing that could possibly affect my future, and that makes me a bit angry as well as sad.

But that aside, that chapter is closed. The 'to be revisited in the future' of this blog title obviously refers to the fact that the warning could crop up on an extended CRB check. But the chapter is closed.

Now for the rest of the fucking book...

Sleeping to a final warning.

Firstly, you may notice that this blog has changed colour :) I've been debating since this blog's inception whether to go for the black or white, and having initially gone for the white I decided to change for a while. Whimsical, I know.

I realise I haven't really properly updated in a while, and its not because I've been tremendously busy, but due to lack of energy really. All this sitting around, sleeping, watching television and doing bugger all can really take it out of a girl. But seeing as I'm awake at half 3 in the morning again unable to sleep, just for a change, I thought I might as well.
As you may be aware, sleep has been a real problem for me recently. I've never been the greatest sleeper, and while I was at high school (especially in the last two years) I would usually get to sleep at about midnight and then have to be up at about 6.30AM; cue falling asleep in various lessons. My sleep pattern didn't really fix any when I moved up to college, in fact it got worse. Whereas I'd usually struggle to sleep before midnight, it was now nearer 1AM before I'd finally feel able to sleep, and then I'd hate getting up in the mornings (though you could just put that down to me being a typical teenager).
Now my sleep pattern is basically a pile of stinking, humming shit. I'm lucky if I get to sleep before 3AM most nights, but more frequently I find myself still not able to sleep at about 4/4.30AM. Last night I was still awake at 5AM.

It's really actually a problem; besides the obvious annoyance of not being able to get to sleep, it means that I'm often still asleep in bed approaching mid-day, so I'm losing out. But its a destructive pattern. I cant get to sleep but then I do I wake up late, but then I'm still up at stupid-o'clock so I'm up late again...etc. And it's not like I'm not tired at 3 in the morning, of course I am, but apparently with my body feeling so utterly tired that my eyes are burning and my muscles are screaming, isn't possibly good enough to warrant sleep. I can be so tired that my eyes are closing, but the minute I lay down in that bed, I wont sleep. It's endlessly frustrating, so that becomes a cycle of its own.
I was prescribed some fairly mild sleeping tablets a while back, at my own request, but for some reason I'm too scared to take them. Although some days I feel like I want to go to sleep and never wake up again, when I think about taking the sleeping tablet, I'm petrified that I wont wake up. Rationally, of course I know it wont happen, but there's a part of me that says, "So what if doctors and scientists have done tests, so what if this is a mild dose, what if there's something weird about my body and I have a reaction and dont wake up?" etc. Mad I know.

So I here I am stuck in another quandry, a ridiculous and frustrating cycle that I cant break. Might as well put it to good use, right?

The last you heard from me was a short boring post generally updating you on my life's more mundane going-ons, and that all still stands. That whole list of things I want to get done is still just as long, minus maybe one or two magazines from the stack. It's another current frustration that there are things I need and want to get done, to start doing things and getting back to normal again, but I just have no energy. Some of that is due to the weight issues too, but thats for another day.

I guess the main thing to report is regarding the assault saga. As you may remember, as it recently stood, I went to court and my solicitor recommended, in simpletons terms, that the fact I was being charged was ridiculous seeing as I've never been in trouble before and in light of recent events, and that I should receive a final warning at most. The prosecution agreed and the court agreed to a three week adjournment. The papers would be sent to the police for them to arrange for me to go to my local police station on one the slots on Tuesdays where they give out final warnings, to be given mine. If I didnt hear from the police in the three weeks alloted I would have to go back to court this Wednesday for it to be adjourned yet again until the police get their arses in gear.

Last Thursday I had an appointment with my support worker for my other case, and I mentioned to her that I hadnt yet heard from the police and I would ideally like to not have to go back to court again, so she said that she'd try and find out what was happening, seeing as part of her job is that she has a bit of influence with the police. The next day I got a phone call from her to tell me that she'd had a word with a friendly officer who would get me on the list for this Tuesday's time slot, and that as a letter would take too long to reach me before Wednesday's court date, an officer would have to come round and inform me. Apparently this kind of situation cant be handled over the telephone, it has to be done in person. The officer she had spoken to, however, works nights, so unless he could assign it to another officer on patrol I would be getting a knock on the door some time after 10pm. In some ways this would have been preferable, as the neighbours would have been less likely to see uniformed cops at the door and wonder what was going on (as it was, my next door neighbours, the nosiest and most gossipy neighbours ever known to live next door to anyone, were away, but there are other eyes around!), but alas, things never go simply for me do they. Shortly after she spoke to me on the phone the doorbell rang. Now I'm not too keen on people at the moment, and seeing as I jump and get nervous over most noises I was more than a little nervous when I heard it go. But upon popping my head round the living room doorframe it was obvious who it was. I really had to try not to laugh though when I opened the door to see a male officer about 7ft tall and a female officer who was about 4ft tall. They couldn't have been all that much more pc if they'd tried. They did the usual "are you so-and-so? You were accused of blah-de-blah" and then told me that I had to go to my local police station at 6.30PM that Tuesday to receive a final warning. As soon as I shut the door to them I immediately panicked - did they say 6.30? or was it 6? half 5? no, definately half 6...yes? Silly fool.
From the kitchen I could then see them loitering outside my gate for a good 5 minutes as they radioed on their walkie talkies, and I mentally thanked them for adding to the neighbourly intrigue.

So as of 6.30PM today (being Tuesday, thanks to stupid o'clock) one nasty chapter will be over. As long as all runs to plan. Which I really shouldn't have just said should I?...bugger. One nasty chapter of this tiring, gloomy, dragging slog of a book that I like to call my life, will be over. It's just one more strange, nasty and surreal chapter, but I can at least say goodbye to it.

For now, I am going to have a technically-not-allowed cigarette out of the window, and then try and get to sleep. I expect to wake up at around 2PM tomorrow. Of course, what happens when I do get to sleep, well, thats another story for another blog entry, for another day...

Retreat.

So it's 03.49 by my phone as I start writing this, as I finally get to bed. The reason for my late bed time is a good heartfelt chat with my mother. Somehow we always end up having these big talks were I pour my heart out in the small hours. Not had so many recently, and with things being so strained at home over the last few days it was good to bond again. It started off talking about driving, with us both sat on the sofa and mum teaching me how to drive :) you see, I sent off for my provisional liscence the other day and on fathers day mum has said I can drive her car :) god knows how we got from that to me talking about how shit I feel, crying lots and then crying some more over my friends.
Basically at the end of it all, my mum spoke wisely; (Not that she didn't throughout the chat) I need help. Professional help. There's so many unaddressed issues I need to deal with and I can't start to heal and move on with my life unless I do.
And then she said something that I thought would upset me, but didn't. "If it came to it, and if it's possible, do you think going away somewhere for a month or so would help?" Admittedly yes at first I thought she was suggesting a holiday, but then realised what she meant. She tried to sweeten it but basically she meant would I be up for something like rehab, or a retreat somewhere with the right kind of psychological help on tap 24/7 and the right kind of facilities, if I thought it would help or would be worth a shot.
And the funny thing is, the more I think about it, the more ok that sounds. Sure, I don't want to be a 'nutter' but if it would help then surely it's worth a try? Certainly, at the minute I'm definately not getting the right support I need, and being at home not feeling able to leave the house, and being so close to everything and everyone that's added to my problems over the years, isn't doing my any good. So maybe getting away for a while would be the right thing for me. Definately worth a think, right?

But right now I need to cut this short and dead and get some sleep. Which should be easier said than done with all the bloody morning birds outside twittering and twatting around.

Morning all. Wake well.


iPhone post

Looking up?

First of all I would like to start with a thanks to all of you on here and/or twitter who have been so supportive over the recent months, and especially over the last few days: you're brilliant.

Now to business. As some of you will know I was due in court today in relation to allegations of assualt, as explained in a previous post. My solicitor had expected a caution but instead the police pressed charges. After Monday's devastation of losing Rocky, and staying up into the small hours crying with my mum and waking my dad up with my sobs as it all got a bit too much for me, losing him, I woke up tired and with a headache. We went to the court and I was so utterly nervous.

However, good news was to be had.

After we had booked in and waited for a while, the solicitor who would be representing me called the four of us (my brother came too for support, the star) into a room to talk. He told us that he had written to the prosecution basically saying "come on, we both know this is ridiculous to persue a trial, with no previous convictions and her current personal situation, surely a final warning/caution would be more than enough?". Mum and dad said they had known this but didn't tell me as they didn't want to get my hopes up. He then told me that the prosecution agreed and was happy to let it go back to the police for them to give me a caution (as long as they dont decide to be nasty and still push for trial), meaning no trial, no criminal record, and that this would be over.

I cannot explain the feeling of relief that washed over me...all the tension in my body seemed to disappear and I could have cried (had I not used all my tears up last night over Rocky). I looked up and saw my dad holding back tears ( not very well I might add ) and my mothers relief was plain.

I did still have to go into the court room, but my solicitor explained all I'd have to do would be confirm my name etc and he'd do the rest. Even though I knew the pressure was off, going into that court room was still terrifying. Standing there in front of those people, I was just trembling. My solicior stood after I'd confirmed that, yes I am the person you think I am, and asked for an adjournment. The prosecutor also stood and said he agreed that was the fairest and best plan of action and recommended 3weeks adjournment.
What this means now is that as long as the police agree and don't decide they really really want it to go to trial, I'll be summoned to the police station at some point and be issued a formal warning, or caution. It means I don't have to face going through another trial, and that one shit thing in my life will have gone away. If the police don't give me the caution in time (the 3 week adjournemt period) I'll have to go back to the court and they'll probably just adjourn it again til the police have got round to doing it.

Quite frankly, this is the best result we could have hoped for. Just 24 hours ago I was sitting here sobbing uncontrollably about the loss of my little furry friend (about which I still get teary if I think about him for too long) and worrying about facing court the next day, battling through the trial proceedings, and feeling guilty and worried about whether I'd be able to care for Yoshi enough when I'm still hurting this much for Rocky.
Now, this has all changed.

The other court case (the one where I am the legal 'victim') will be proceeding painfully slowly over the next few months, which is evidently something I will have to face in the future, but I'm feeling stronger.

Regarding Yoshi, things are looking up there too. After last nights breakdown of grief, my dad said that if I wanted we could go back to the pet shop we got Yoshi from and buy one of his brothers. (Personally I think thats partially because dad liked the black ones of the litter and seeing as it was his birthday he wanted one lol) My dad is so lovely to me and he really does want to do anything he can to help me and make me happy.
Admittedly I was a little dubious about it, as I was worried I wouldn't be able to bond with one let alone two little baby rabbits who need me, but after a nice lunch we went by the pet store, and I fell in love with Spud. We thought it was definately wiser to get one of the black ones seeing as the other ones are practically identical to Yoshi, we'd never be able to tell the difference! And Spud fits the bill :)

We brought him home and I could already tell he is completely different to Yoshi - whereas Yoshi was jumping around in the carry box all the way home, Spud just sat there, heart going a mile a minute bless him, but still nonetheless. When we got home I got him out of the box and had a cuddle to calm him down, then took him into the conservatory and put him down to run around. We figured it was wiser to re-introduce them in a space bigger than the hutch (which unfortunately is too small for the two of them at the moment, as it was only meant for one little 'un) as even though the man at the pet shop said that somehow they'd recognize each other and get along fine, we wanted to be able to break them up if needed. Mum got a towel to throw over one or both of them if they got a bit fighty, and I went and got Yoshi. To start with they barely even noticed each other, but then Yoshi hopped over to Spud and started nudging him. We nervously watched them but they just started nuzzling and nipping each other in a friendly way, looking ridiculously adorable.
Watching them both explore the conservatory, which was 100% new for Spud but Yoshi didn't seem to find it any less interesting, I started to realize I could easily love them. Although neither of them will take Rocky's place, in a sense they can. They'll both have completely different personalities to Rocky, as well as (as I can already see) different to each other. (Spud seems much calmer and docile, whereas I can tell Yoshi's gonna be a right trouble maker). But you know what? Thats ok, and I'm excited to get to know these little guys. At the end of the day, they need me, and I need them too.

So all in all, touch wood, things seem to be looking up. The way I'm seeing today's good news as, is that it was Rocky's parting shot. On the way up the great hutch in the sky, he had a word with someone. Something like, "Oy, lay off her. Give her a break, she loved me." or something. I've got to see it like that really. Makes things better somehow.

The next step is to bond with these little fellas, and get them bigger hutch. (And to somehow get Yoshi to stop eating Spud's food when he's got his own, and to let Spud drink! Cheeky sod.)

I want things to get better. I want to feel better, be better. I need to be fixed. I've been so broken for so long, and I'm realising now that I need to help fix myself. I have to fight, no matter how hard it is, because I know I'm worth fighting for. I deserve to live, though some days I have my doubts. You guys are part of my support network, of my healing, my therapy...thank you.



Now here's a picture of the little guys :) Unfortunately, neither of them wanted to stay still at the same time for a photo, so Yoshi' (the white one on the right) is a bit blurred. The black one is Spud :) But as with Rocky, you can expect lots more photos in future :) You'll get to know these babies with me I'm sure.

Update pt1 - 'Friendlings.'

So hello everyone! Apologies for not having written anything in so long, I just haven't really been up to/able to translate anything I'm feeling or anything that's been going on into words recently, but have finally decided to just bite the bullet and have a go!

This first part of my life update (thats right, first part [to be fair I didnt intend this to be as long as it transpired, but what can you do] so settle down with a drink and nibbles...) is on the friend front. I'm not really sure where things are to be honest. After the last friend-related blog entry things seemed to settle down with some of the friends and I was just getting on with things, but then last Thursday happened. Now, I'm not meaning to sound like a moaner but over the past few months I have been really struggling emotionally and NONE of my friends have really cared or fully been there, I've been in the same place everyday all day (at home) yet no one has bothered to call or come round or anything, but last Thursday things went a bit awol. I discovered in the day that a friend's boyfriend (lets say friend A) had broken up with her the previous Monday, and she was going out that night with friend B and C for a few drinks at the pub then on into town. I agreed to come to the pub for multiple reasons, 1) to see and be there for my recently single friend (she has always been one to take break ups hard, and as she'd been with this guy for well over a year we were all expecting her to be feeling low), 2) to see friends B and C who I havent seen for a while and 'patch things up' with B from a few days previously and 3) even my parents agreed it'd do me good to get out of the house for a bit. So I go to the pub, play some pool, chat a bit, drink a bit, friend A seems to be holding up ok apart from the occaisonal "I want to caaaaallll hhiiiiiiim" outburst prompting all of us to dive and cover all phones, and then B pulls me out for a cigarette. Now as you can guess this was just a ruse to talk to me, and so she does. Now bear in mind I'd told them all before I arrived I was getting picked up at 11 as I wasnt feeling great so wouldnt be going out 'on the lash' with them, so imagine my slight annoyance when I'm told that she doesnt think it entirely fair that I'm not coming out to help them 'look after' and to 'be there' for friend A. However, me being me, I relented to her clearly compelling arguements (cough cough) and arranged to go into town. (Cue annoyed parents at changes of plan, understandably). Then when we get into town I get a call from another friend that I didnt even know was out that night, asking if any of us knew where friend H (my best/oldest friend) was because they couldnt find her. Now in light of what happened to me, I (quite understandably in my opinion) went a bit crazy and got angry with them. This lot have a very selfish mentality when it comes to going out and getting into places (as we are all underage :s) whereby if one gets in one stays in, dontcha know. So she'd been left outside and now it was up to us to search for her. Of course I would glady search for her, but I'm scared of being around town on my own after dark and everyone else was convinced she'd be fine (she'd left her phone at a friends house so was uncontactable) and I was also getting "this is supposed to be A's night Holly*, dont worry about H she'll be fine" in my ear. I also recieved a shouty phone call from friend D telling me I was being unfar; I hung up soon after. So reluctantly I agreed to come with the lot I was with to attempt getting into one of the local gay bars (surprisingly, their idea, not mine). On our way there I spotted a familiar looking figure on the other side of the road further on; we all screamed H's name and the figure looked up. Now I am by no means the fastest runner but when it comes to friends (this one in particular; we've known each other since we were foetuses - literally) I'm there as fast as possible, hence I was the first to her and didnt let go of her until everyone else caught up with us and bundled us :) funtimes. So I get out my phone to text friends D, E & F that we've found H only to see a text from D; "Holly* stop being a bitch for once in your life, why are you fucking having a go at us?" etc etc. Naturally, quite angry, I simply sent a rather curt text to her and E simply saying "we've found her." Then we didnt get into the club because it was closed so we started making our way back down the highstreet. On our way down, myself, B and C were walking together and I was talking to C when we suddenly realised B wasnt there. I span around only to see her snogging the face off some random guy. Ok so I'm no prude, but after new years I get really pissed off and worried, quite frankly, when my friends still 'get off with' an average of 3 guys a night each, all guys they've never met before, and always when they're completely trashed. So C and I go to get B as we were losing the others and needed to catch up, only this guy didnt seem to want to finish with B's face anytime soon. Feeling my temper rising, I told him very firmly to get off her. He didn't. She turned round and looked at us somewhat sheepishly. "Whaaat?" she says. "Just leave me alone Holly*". By this point she is quite drunk, understand, and this guy is grinning at me all slimy and innocent which just riles me further. C implores her we need to get going but she doesnt listen. Nor does this guy. So I drag him off her with a little difficulty but when Im angry enough I get strength from somewhere. B protests and so does he, in his own hilarious grinning way, and he goes to square up to me. I get there first and tell him in no uncertain terms to fuck off. He laughs and slopes across the road getting his phone out. C has moved on a bit further and calls to us to hurry up. B and I start walking and she starts moaning at me "whats your problem etc" "if you think I'm a slag just say so". So I tell her, yeah I think you can be a bit of a slag to be honest, but Im not allowed to say that am I cos then Im a bitch. I just worry about you and I dont think you get that. So the two of us ended up having a bit of a shouting match in the middle of the street with that guy still hanging around (so I shout at him to bugger off at regular intervals; "you aint getting any from either of us so fuck off mate" etc. yeah I know, Im 'ard ;) haha) and we argue for a bit more, her not making much sense in her drunkeness and me feeling increasingly out of control and heading towards another melt down. A voice far off calls to B and she toddle off in the middle of a sentence, so I walk the other way and start rolling a fag round a slight corner so I dont have to deal with whoever it is. Soon after I hear B asking some guy for a fag. "How desperate are you darling?" comes the response. Drunk and confused she replies "What? Have you got a fag I can have or not?" Again his lewd response, "I said how desperate are you darling?". Fearing my point about the dangers of random men was about to be proved, I peered round the corner to assess the situation. She seems a safe distance away and there are other people around...including two people I'd rather not have seen; sender of last weeks nasty email F and sender of nasty text D. I can tell you now, the way they both looked at me...it nearly killed me. It was like a mocking look, like "god she's pathetic, and weird, and hateful, and a bitch" etc. Instead of dying, I just burst into tears. I dont know where all the tears came from, but come they did. Any form of cigarette rolling fell from my hands and I started sliding down the wall. As my knees weakened I was aware of someone approaching; ironically enough, it was the first guy who had 'met' B and I had told to fuck off, he came over with his hand outstretched "Hey...you ok?" The next thing I know, I hear F & D - "Oy leave her alone" "Just fuck off" "Get away from her". More than slightly shocked I tried to steady myself, but there was no need. The next thing I hear, instead of them coming to me and asking if I was ok, was F saying to D, "Im so taking some of the credit for that, we got him to leave her alone." At least D had the sense to tell her to shut up. At that, my knees completely failed and a fresh wave of tears swept over me. B suddenly materialised (without a cigarette; she has some sense then) and fell to her knees beside me, trying to put an arm around me. Sobering slightly, she tells F & D "Guys I dont really think this is the right time." They ignore her. "No B we need to talk to her. This isnt fair. We've tried talking to her but theres never a right time is there?" "Yeah and now isnt it either." The whole conversation is pretty much burnt into my mind. The worst part was when, between insults, they told me "We've given you so many chances." That hurt. They've given ME chances? Who's the one grappling with homophobic friends with shit for brains and a space where their hearts should be, at the same time as balancing anti depressants with sleeping pills and the worry of court dates and HIV tests and the fact that because of all this I am going to HAVE to come out to my parents (more on that later) and the fact that I cant sleep even with the pills and I jump at every little noise and I barely leave the house because I cant deal with people and I cant make decisions even as simple as which fucking foot to put which sock on and the fact that Im failing college and probably starting again from scratch next year and that I feel like Im losing everything? I know grammer got fucked up the arse there but you get the point. Everytime they hurt me I go back to them. I forgive them. Even though each time in my heart of hearts I want to talk to them and tell them how I feel, I dont, because they're not good at that. So they've given ME chances? Fuck off. Eventually they say they have to get going to be home on time, but whenever I'm "ready to apologise and sort things out" I know where they are. B goes to say goodbye to them, and I cant stop crying. My heart literally felt like they'd just played football with it. I didnt know what else to do, so I got out my phone and called my parents. One good thing that has come out of all this shit is that my relationship with my parents has improved no end. I love them to peices, they could not have been better at dealing with all this. They were the only people I could turn to. In tears, I begged my dad to come and pick me up. Calmly, (though who knows what horrors were going through his head as his daughter rang home in tears begging for him to come and get her) he asked where I was and said they'd be there any minute. Time could not have passed slower. B came back and I told her I was going home, but then I realised that the people she was supposed to be staying with were long gone, so I called C (because even though I was near hysterical I was in a better state for phonecalls than drunken B) and asked her to send A & H back for B. A & H arrived to get B and were no doubt bemused as to what the fuck had happened. I couldnt stop crying still. Moments later, I hear a commotion, look up and see the welcome sight of my fathers arms. He helps me up, barely able to look at my friends (cant blame him, they were a right drunken state, a disgrace to be honest. more on that later...) and holds me for a minute, though I know he just wants to get me into the car and home as soon as possible. B stumbles with us to the car and dad thanks her as we get in the car. He gets in the back with me and I sob into his shoulder. I was a mess. Again. God knows how mum managed to drive home without asking 5000000000 millions questions, but she did. We got home and I just cried and told them what had happened and how I was not coping with anything at all and needed them so bad. I literally cannot describe how I was feeling at the time. My heart actually hurt. But mum and dad were there. At 3am they listened to me, hugged me when I wanted and held a hand on my shoulder when I couldnt hug, supplied copious tissues and water, and when it was time, mum came and tucked me into bed and rubbed the back of my neck like she used to when I was a baby until I fell asleep.

The next day I just stayed curled in bed for as long as possible until I had to get ready to go to the theatre with mum. Mum and dad really picked me up in the day, so by the time we went to the theatre I felt at least semi-human enough to enjoy the play. The only downer being that D was there too so I avoided her like the plague and mum understood when I asked her if we could basically make a mad dash to leave at the end. Since then a lot of other stuff has happened, but right now it is 0248 and I need some sleep! Apologies for the length of this post, but I cant promise the next ones will be any shorter! I will crack on with those as soon as I can tomorrow, for my sake as well as your entertainment (;) lol) as I feel I might be on a roll now and need an emotion-dump :) classy phrasing I know.

Coming up; anti depressants, police officers and coming out! yaaaaaay.
*sarcy and ironic face* (shut up, thats a possible expression and you know it).

Til tomorrow...

Apologies.

For my severe lack of blog entries over the recent weeks. I have been meaning to sit down and write out several entries, all likely to be very long, but have just not been able to find the time or the energy. Still dont have either right now. For the last few weeks I've been struggling a lot; with friends, family, myself...pretty much everything. I'm getting to the point where I'm just feeling tired of everything, and everything's stacking up. Mostly as a result of what happened at NY's but to be honest I think that was just a trigger that exacerbated existing and underlying problems. Right now though I need to get some sleep, and try not to get too worried about tomorrow; put it this way, the test results I get back tomorrow are for something that I never thought I would have to be tested for at the age of 16, if ever, something that I wouldn't have to have been tested for if it weren't for what happened, and is something that takes approximately 3 months to test for; "do the math". And although its like 99.999999% likely to be negative, I cant help but worry a little. (Although according to my friends, I'm worrying for nothing at all and being stupid, cheers.)
So for now, goodnight, because I fucking need my sleep right now. I will post again tomorrow (hopefully, twitters know I've been saying that most days for weeks) all being well, and will more than likely have a lot to say if I do. Too tired. Laters.

20 slow - I froze today.

So today was not the best of days. After my mini breakdown last night. As my entries and twittering from last night would have shown to all who saw them, I spent my evening panicking about a 2250 word essay I had to write for today, and subsequently suffered huge writers block.

Now you may think; writers block, everyone gets that from time to time, its certainly nothing to get so worked up about - this is where I would scream. I have never suffered from writers block before, or if I have it has lasted so short I time I have not even noticed it. This is different. I have always been able to write. I'm the kind of person who could leave an essay til the night before and still churn out something to rival that of someone who has spent weeks on it, I've always been able to do that. I've always been able to call upon my writing ability, but recently that ability has disappeared. So yes, last night I had a bit of a breakdown. Everything has been building up and the fact I couldn't write again just freaked me out. An extension for the essay has since been arranged.

After that exhausting night, where I still didn't manage to get to sleep until around 4am despite not having to stay up to write the bloody essay anymore, I took the morning off college and went in for 12.20 for a one-to-one tutorial with my oh-so-lovely-and-supportive-of-my-current-situation English Lit lecturer. Prior to my meeting with her my parents had been in touch with her to ask her (from her Deputy Head of English Department position) to speak with the lecturer of the other English (Language) to arrange said extension. Here I spoke to her about what had happened the night before and explained that when faced with having to write 'creatively' or 'at all', I literally freeze. She empathized and told me it will get easier.

2 hours later I was back in her classroom for the usual English Lit lecture. 45 minutes in she asks us all to spend 10 minutes on a creative task. I freeze. My mind goes as blank as the page in front of me. I start getting worked up. As she wanders round the class checking on people she sees me panicking a bit and asks me if I'm struggling. I tell her in no uncertain terms I am. She tells me to breathe. I try that but unfortunately I still can't write anything. I ask her if I can take a minute out. She'd said in previous meetings with her I always could if I needed to, so she said of course and I practically ran out of the classroom, down the hall and sat down in front of a radiator.

Of course she came to check on me a few minutes later and proceeded to apologise for setting a creative writing task after I'd told her it makes me freeze. I mean, how lovely is she? I wouldn't have expected her to change her lesson plan for me at all! She told me just to take another few minutes then come back in when we'd be reading through some other stuff. I kept apologising and got quite upset and angry and I think that honestly surprised her, seeing me like that. So all in all, not the best of days. I've just got to keep hoping this will all get easier, and got to keep trying to get through this. "Some days are harder than others"; that's what I would have said a month ago - now, most days are horrible.

On a photo note; 2 for today, both taken after the one-to-one whilst having a cigarette. I love the first one so much, I have no idea why. It was an accidental photo really, but I'm glad it happened as I find there's something cute about the little leaf. The second just about sums up the speed I'd give anything to be going at, 'cos right now, I feel like I've ground to a halt!

I'm becoming stupid.

Brick wall - meet my head; it would like to smack itself repeatedly against your hard grainy surface for a while, if you wouldn't mind?

The problem is this; I used to be clever. I used to be able to write at short notice. If I had an essay that I'd left to the last minute eg the day before (as is usually the case) I used to be able to whack one out (an essay that is) the night before, that would still be of a better standard than that of fellow classmates who'd have spent weeks on the thing. This isn't me bragging, this is just stating fact. Now, however, it seems to be a very different story.

I have 2 essays that need to be handed in tomorrow - not first drafts, not second drafts; the final things. One has to be a short story or extract from a short story equally 1500-1700 words, based on or inspired by the story or style of another authors book. The second is an accompanying 750-800 analysis of said short story, discussing why I have used the style I have, what inspired this what inspired this and so on.

Now, the short story I wrote months ago. Last year, I think it was. Before I'd finished the last essay for this subject. The only problem was that it was 3000 words; twice as long as it needs to be. I therefore had about 2 months to choose the best parts of the story and write an analysis on it. The problem now is part of my bigger problem.

A) I have read no book that could possibly have inspired this tale, and cannot find, buy and read one in 5 minutes. B) I physically cannot write anything. I had decided a better plan at this short notice would be to just write a new story based on a book I know better and an analysis off the back of that, but now I cannot find a book I feel I know well enough, and the three books I've found to 'choose from' are yeilding no inspiration whatsoever.

This is my future here. My AS English Language level is literally being washed down the drain before my very eyes, and I feel utterly powerless to stop it. I didn't think it would ever come to this. Complete and utter writers block that I really am scared I won't be able to get past. I'm failing, and it scares me. This is what I love isnt it? Writing? Where did the optimism of yesterday go? Confronted with the actual necessity to write something, I freeze. I am frozen in a state of mind where nothing is possible, and everything is falling away.

This is not me. At least, it shouldn't be.
I guess I'm not as strong as I thought I was.