Thing is, it's not overly messy, it just happens to be that due to me torrenting some stuff, there are some files that exist in two places, so I've been getting rid of the double-ups.

The thing is, I ended up in my downloads folder, which has basically never been cleaned, and I found . . . I found some very painful memories. Of my ex. A reference she got from my property manager so she could move into her own place - even though she'd hardly ever been listed on the tenancy agreement....

But my urges and my anxiety are almost overwhelming me right now.

I just had a shower.
I did what I was supposed to do, I followed the sort-of routine we discussed.

Showering with no time-pressure meant that I noticed my scars. Specifically the ones on my upper arms. They're so ugly. They're that deep-purple colour that scars that are struggling to heal go. And they're . . . not new. Not old old, but longer ago than when I had stitches by at least a couple of...

Private entries cannot be viewed from this page. Click here to view this entry if you have permission to.

Tomorrow is Mother's Day, so I decided to bake a cake for each Mum and Nana. Mum's cake is pretty much done, although I'm not sure how well it will turn out - I've never baked it before and the recipe looked odd. The batter tasted okay though, so hopefully it will be fine. Nana's is a chocolate cake and it's in the oven currently. Once it's done I'm going to take my washing off the line and make some lunch. And then relax. I can ice the cakes tomorrow, before I go over.

I can't catch...

I feel like I need somebody to say it's okay to get well. But it's also okay to be afraid of being well, because I don't know what that will be like. And I need someone to tell me that once I'm well, that it's okay for me to be afraid of becoming unwell. Afraid of losing everything. Because it wouldn't be the first time. How many times do you have to lose everything before your body finally calls it quits?

I need somebody to hold me. To say that it's okay that I'm anxious, and it's...

Sometimes I struggle to tell even my blog what's going on.

The words can be hard and the words can be painful, and sometimes I'm afraid. So very, very afraid. And I can't even explain why. Maybe it's anxiety, my team says I get very anxious a lot.

I got told that what happened in the bus stop was wrong, but that I didn't do anything wrong. I got told I could lay harassment charges if I wanted to. I declined. If I couldn't say it out loud to somebody whom I know and...