I can't do this any more. I don't want to spend another night lying here thinking about how to die, how to let people know, what to do about the chins. I just want to have the fucking guts to get on with it. But I'm too much of a fucking chicken.
Do you know, I'd willingly go back to any point in my life now. I'd swap this moment for any other I've ever had. Being raped. Being terrified. Fearing for my life. Being beaten down by overbearing bullies and uncaring parents. Any of that would be preferrable to this.
Do you have any idea how fucking shocking that is to me?
I used to think that even as horrific as it all was, the aftermath of the accident was worth it for the things I'd learnt about myself, the behaviours I'd been able to change. I even said that to the counsellor, a couple of years after the crash.
But not any more. There's nothing in the world that's worth this. I'd go back to when I was 13 or 14 and we all used to long for the alternate Thursday when my dad would go out and we could all relax. I'd go back to him shouting and screaming that I'm too stupid to be his child. I'd even go back to lying in bed, listening to him come up the stairs, praying he'd go into his room not mine. I'd take anything over this.
Why can't I just have the guts to do it? I thought I was brave, but I can't be. Otherwise I just go and get the fucking knife and get on with it.
Fill up the chins food bowls, stick the extra water bottle in, write an email and get the knife. The pills are all there ready, it only needs the knife. Belt and braces, two for the price of one.
I already know there's nothing to live for, there's no hope so WHY AM I STILL FUCKING HERE? I'm just torturing myself by not doing it. Because every day I'd the same stuck here, all alone.
It's like finally, I'm living the ultimate terror from my childhood: that the current horror was permanent, that you really were waking from a nightmare to find yourself still there. I'd be so scared of whatever was going on - my dad attacking me or screaming at me, my mum leaving me, just abandoning me to him - and I'd be terrified it would never end.
But then it finally would. Someone would come, something would happen, and it would end. For now. But I was always terrified that sometime, they wouldn't. And I would find myself stuck there forever. And now I am. And no-one's going to come, because no-one can fix this. So even if they do come, they're as powerless as I am.
When I was really small I was terrified of somehow winding up on a bus on my own, and it driving off without anyone realising; me at the window, watching my mum and little sister get smaller and smaller as we drove away.
They wouldn't know where I was, I wouldn't know where to get off or how to get back. The terror lay in not knowing what to do to get out of that situation. This is like waking up and finding you really are on the bus, and it really has driven away. And you really don't know how to get back.
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