I feel the urge to write something. I guess it’s the last desperate attempt to try and connect with someone and not feel so alone.

My anxiety is rocketing. There’s a strange person in my house. I don’t feel safe sleeping with my bedroom door shut. I think I would seriously hurt myself. I started cutting my arms again. I haven’t done that for years but felt it was the only way to calm down. I’d do far worse if my door was shut, there would be nothing and no one to stop me. So I leave it open. It makes me feel safe.

There’s no reason to feel anxious, I know they won’t come in. But they’re stealing the attention of my housemate and that leaves me alone, I can’t handle being alone.

I can hear them laughing in the garden. It shouldn’t bother me but it really does. It’s her birthday weekend and I want her to have a good time. There talking about bagels, hardly interesting.  I try my best but I’m not sure I can manage it. She’s not doing anything wrong, that’s the worst thing. If she was doing something wrong then at least I could justify my anxiety, but I can’t. My anxiety is purely my issue, which is made worse by my fear of abandonment. If I had someone to turn to when I feel like this it might help, but I don’t, so onwards I struggle with my shit life and come closer and closer to the suicide attempt that ends my life. It’s the only option asi can’t do change on any level

I want to meet new people, I know I need to meet new people, but the anxiety won’t let me. Hence the conundrum, I can’t handle being alone but am too anxious to meet anyone new.

I hate my life