Not Okay

No, I'm not. I'm happy to admit that to myself and I'm not entirely sure what to do about it.

I'm in a horrible, lonely pit of depression & anxiety; I feel isolated from my family, friends and boyfriend; whom I'm yet again managing to be mean to because neither of us is brave enough or stupid enough to talk about what's actually going on. This frustrates me more than anything, as I feel he's the one who lives with me and should see when I'm not right and help me. (please) I feel like I'm tearing myself in two.

We had a minor squabble last night, I've been a real bitch the last few days which I attribute to cabin-fever (I need to work to function). He's in the habit of not coming out and saying what he's actually feeling, rather says one word "hints" which usually cut through me like fire - I HATE that he can't find it in himself to actually listen to what his head/heart is saying and talk to me. So this happened last night and in my position of queen-bitch I didn't respond appropraitely. Mainly because it hurt me. He left the room, leaving me in bed. Full of rage and hurt, mostly at myself but in part at him although I managed to turn that round on myself. I couldn't face the discussion to resolve the tension and all my head could turn to was the blades. It's been a long time since I've self-harmed with any conviciton. But it's still the first place my head goes when I'm hurting. But I'm almost scared of the pain these days and the fear of the marks being seen. My arms & legs are no longer viable options for social dignity and the other options hurt and are not as satisfying. So I sat and tried to think why I really wanted to do it. And I came up with nothing! Nothing at all. So I thought back, why I did it in the past and why I started. Again, nothing. All I could think and feel was I knew it would make me feel better. But it didn't, not really. Not the same sense of satisfaction it used to bring. It helped, but not much.

It leads me to wonder what I'll do to satisfy that need to release in the future. That frightens me a bit.

Anyway, I'm also picking and plucking every single night, normally for an hour or so. And my eating is up the spout but better than it has been in the last few weeks. I don't really know what to do. I'm not *properly* sick. I feel crazy, but not properly crazy that anyone (Medical professionals anyhow) will be particularly concerned - I'm not a risk to anyone through my behaviour. I don't have a GP or CMHT appointment coming up that I know of. The CMHT doctor was supposed to write to me after I saw him last (another fairly unsatisfying appointment after he told me he didn't know why I was booked in to see him so soon after the last appointment - thanks) but I've yet to receive anything. I don't know what help I'm supposed to be getting, should I be expecting a care plan, an assessment so someone can diagnose me, therpy, a review of medication? Anything at all?! Fuck me it's frustrating enough to make me want to go private. Which I would, if I could afford it or had the balls to ask my parents for help.

What's a sad, lonely, crazy girl supposed to do when faced with a wall of apathy?