Yeah, my title is a bit harsh.
I dont want to moan. I dont want sympathy.I dont want to be all like 'woe me' and shite (northener sayin sorry!) I just want people to shut up and listen to me for once. Not the stupid ponsy barbie girl with the tits. Me. Because even though when you look at me, you think 'oh, shes alright, a bit dramatic- probably smokes a bit too much weed but shes ok. Ill ignore her.' im not really like that.
I put up a guard all the time, im so good at it now lol I joke about EVERYTHING (!) I have special saying like 'mint', 'yeah bill', 'ace' and goodbye isnt goodbye, its 'in a bit mate!' im always laughing, dressing like a young eccentric in bright pink dms and pierced all over, and diy tattoos too. But I am going through SHIT. After living in mental hospitals for 2 years, with 7 admissions in this period and a week between each, my Mum has decided that i cant live at home anymore. My social worker confirmed my fears well and truely last week at a 'forward planning meeting'. 'So, Bekki's homeless...' Great.
Thats not really a big deal.
Its not as bad as being lonely.
I'm so bloody lonely. Everyone who ever talks to me doesnt care, im like a paper cut. I am superficial. Im only the joker that I am because im drugged up on 60mg fluoxtine. Yes. A DAY. Stuck in the confined space of 'the rivendell unit' the kitchen is locked, the office is locked, the door is locked. Im allowed 20 minuits of 'parol' as i call it everyday, in this time i usually smoke a fag that ive hidden in my bra- the one place they dont look when they do weekly room searches through MY stuff. Im allowed one measily cup of coffee a day, because 'caffine is bad' (do i give an arse?) extra strong with 4 sweetners, also a banned item on the god forsaken unit. I'm not ill. I was but im not anymore, Im better i dont NEED to be in there, Im not sectioned. But it feels like I am.
I guess its tough shit, (well, shite, i should say) there are always worse people off out there...arnt there