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Firstly, thank you.
Caiten, whoever and wherever you are, that one comment meant so much to me. It was a shock and a truly great comfort.

At the same time, I was also very shaken. I have come out: This other identity, this dark side of me, this unspoken monster that I really am. Now I know she exists, alive and free from her chains, and it's a scary prospect, for in revealing this monster, I am also acknowledging her. My illness is not a secret anymore - it is real and I cannot deny it, for this page is living proof of its existence and its power over me.

My heart desires to give so much more to this blog, to post photos of myself, my mum, my friends, my university town, my hometown, my room, the boys I liked, the places I have been... I want to share my memories, and these huge images of who I am.
But this page must remain just words for now. I fear even telling you what University I am at...
This leads me to question why I am so afraid of being discovered...

I am ashamed of this identity. I am ashamed of my mental illness because for me, it is and always will be the evil part of me. Nothing about what I have written in this blog is anything to be proud of. It's weak, it's shameful and it's disgraceful. I know that, and that is why I write anonymously.

For who on earth would want credit for words inspired by a corrupt soul?
This is an exorcism of that evil identity who, in my daily life, I keep chained inside my dark bedroom.


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"Here I am, sane and dry"

"I stayed there, staring at myself in the glass. What do I want to cry about?.... On the contrary, it's when l am quite sane like this, when I have had a couple of extra drinks and am quite sane, that I realize how lucky I am.
Saved, rescued, fished-up, half drowned, out of the deep, dark river, dry clothes, hair shampooed and set. Nobody would know I had ever been in it. Except, of course, that there always remains something. Yes, there always remains something....Never mind, here I am, sane and dry, with my place to hide in. What more do I want?....I'm a bit of an automaton, but sane, surely - dry, cold and sane. Now I have forgotten about dark streets, dark rivers, the pain, the struggle and the drowning...."
Jean Rhys, Good Morning, Midnight

Love. Sick.

And finally, today, I cried; soaked the tissues and pillowcase like I had been longing to do for weeks. The most I had been able to manage recently had been dry crying with a scrunched up face and aching heart. Such relief now to be able to physically release emotions other than vomit.

What words do I use to write about the last few weeks? Crippling, torturous anxiety, studying for finance exams, exercising and exercising, bingeing and vomiting, seeing Gareth, fucking Gareth, hating Gareth, exercising and exercising, bingeing and vomiting. Overcome by the fear and confusion and heartache. Studying for finance exams, but really just exercising and bingeing and vomiting.

The exams are done now and I have been free from those chains for a week - definitely alleviating a great deal of the pressure from my mental crumbling. I was close to slipping back under into the darkness. The darkness of having complete loss of control, complete loss of everything to the sickness in my brain.
days …


We both knew what we wanted - of that there is absolutely no doubt.
We didn't have to say anything, from the start of the week, right up until the point where I was naked in his bed; we both knew.
About two weeks ago Gareth and a few of our colleagues had arranged to have a night out this Friday. We had a pretty tight knit group of 6 who often lunched together at work, but this was one of the few times we were actually going out together. From Monday Gareth was pestering me like he had before:  "Are you coming out on Friday, are we going out out, are we gonna have a big one..."  "Yes", I had replied, "of course." And I booked my waxing appointment and blowdry for Friday lunch, my mind made up about what I wanted.  I had been thinking what would I regret more; sleeping with him or not sleeping with him. I decided on the latter. I'd not been with anyone since Joe left in January and more than that, thoughts of Gareth were continually running through…