Friday 8th March 2019 – Diary
I deplore myself because I’ve got Emotionally Unstable Personality Dsorder (eupd).
I grab that anyone who makes contact with me is this the person that could just be the one that changes my life and becomes my soul mate?
Eupd is irrational, it makes the sufferer “grab’ at the slightest tiniest piece of hope and it makes them worry. Have I said too much to that person?
Do they think I am worthy of their love, their care, their presence? We think negatively about ourselves am I not worthy of their loved or their time and so on.
How do We Overcome these negative tendencies that crippled our lives?
25th February 2019 – Diary
This is how I am feeling at the moment, hiding. Hiding from the real world.
Friday 22nd February 2019 – Diary
Recently I have only understood why people cut themselves. I thought it was just wanting Attention.
But as I have started to cut myself it is not for attention but an attempt to try and ease mental unease.
Wednesday 21st February 2019 – Diary
As you all know, I lost my court case to see my son more often. On Tuesday passed divorce proceedings were started against me.
I feel that I am a total failure and useless. I feel ugly and I hate the way I look the way I talk the sound of my voice.
Tuesday was an extremely difficult day for me it was the 13th anniversary when I met my then wife.
My memories flow back to have those days were. Happy, joyful, excited, caring and loved.
Now however I am so miserable and isolated. Filled with anger. It’s my fault that I’m in the situation I must take responsibility.
The pain that I’m feeling is excruciating and scary. At night, I am scared the smallest sound triggers me and memories flood in.
Last night was my first night, in which, I cut myself deliberately. It helps the mental pain, briefly.
I have relapsed with my eating. I am now taking no smoothies or soup, so in effect I am starving myself because I hate how I feel and how I look.
My ex constantly told me off for how fat I had become and when I was over 100kg she would say “you’re one-tenth of a tonne”. I know she meant it as a joke and it’s like my jokes, but it hurt. I am so isolated that I want to die.
Wednesday 20th February 2019 – Diary
You stop me ask me my name
I tell you
You ask my age
I tell you
Your reply "aren't you a bit young to be on the streets"
"No" is my reply
Why you ask
"It's cos of what I have done, what I've went through"
What do you mean?"
"Leave me, leave me
Let me live my life, my life, not your life.
I dont want to go through:"
"Interview of Pain
Interview of Hurt
Interview of Sadness
Interview of Rejection
Interview of Memories"
I don't want a bed for life
I just want to rest for a while
So what's all these questions.
When I'm told I've to high of support needs,
I go "what do you fucking mean?"
What am I meant to do?
I don't want to go through that interview.
This poem was written when I was homeless in 1999,
I had been homeless for over four years in Central Loondon and could not get anywhere to stay.