I drew that picture. It was like feeling my heart before. I'm amazed i can still draw.
It is not much - a big black mass with big question marks all around it with anger and pain splashed across for good measure.
It doesn't mean much. Just that i cannot connect with who i am or was anymore. I am sitting here as two different people. Me writing this and the other me is floating just above my head. My body and me do not link up. Although my fingers are moving and spilling all this out, i do not feel as though i am writing it.
I am disconnected. I am a black mass. I am a monster. I want to be normal but i am not. How can i explain when everything i truly am does not fit in with what people expect? Confident helen is actually lying in a crumpled heap on the ground. A nothing.

I can see myself plodding along, doing everything that is expected of me, noone really suspecting. I can see red pain. I just see pain day after day. I see myself getting up and going to lectures but all i will be thinking about is getting out of here. I can see myself doing an essay that i will not expect to hand in. I will function till the end. And all that time i will get more and more angry. That end feels close because i honestly do not know how much more pain i can take. I think i have exceeded my limit.

I am angry because if i am really honest i don't think i deserve to be looked after. To feel like this. Who am i to take up other people's time? I am ashamed. I think people will laugh at me. How can confident, bouncy, smiley helen think about suicide....she is such a drama queen...I am ashamed because i was unable to change my thoughts and even the very idea of someone telling me where i'm going wrong and how to think differently makes me want to scream.

I have brought this upon myself and i cannot get out of this pit.