Not looking forward to today. Please please please please please let it be good. Or at least not bad. Hopefully he'll have a long lie-in. Will try and tidy up and things like that so as not to worsen his mood. Please please please.

I want to die. I want to slit my wrists so hard, feel the pressure of the cold blade as my warm blood runs, tainting everything. I want to die. I don't know what to fucking well do. I really don't.

I know he's feeling shit; I'm not trying to placate him, or give positive affirmations, I'm trying not to do anything that I think might upset him. I instead, try to make nice talk. Ask him whether he wants to go to that antiques shop tomorrow; in my eyes, it is non-comittal, could be a nice hour or so out, looking at things he's interested in, might spark conversation etc. but no, he doesn't want to do that, I accept it. He says that "nobody gives a fuck, so why should I?", so I reply "I give a fuck" and I get told to "fuck off" and "leave me alone"... In my eyes, I was just trying to be nice. I was doing anything that could be perceived as irritating or anything like that. I can't work out if this is me or not? In my eyes, I was just being nice. He had the option of me not being here, and he didn't take it.

I can't deal with him taking this out on me. I mean physically taking it out on me. Being nasty because he's feeling depressed. He says he's not taking it out on me, but in my perspective, he is.

I want to support him. I drove home thinking of all the things I could do, to not try and change things, but just to be there for him. 5 minutes in, and no. I evidently can't do anything right. So I'm at a complete and utter loss as to what to do. I can't ignore him. I have no intention of being nasty to him, firstly because no doubt he won't appreciate it, and secondly I'm not a nasty person. But he's said not to be nice either.

I know I don't understand what he's going through, I have not been through it, nor can I really relate to it. But to then tell me it is a competition? It's not a competition. As far as I can see I am presented with a rather simple problem. My boyfriend, whom I love and care about, is upset, therefore I will support him as best as I can. But I'm allowed to feel things as well. I'm allowed to feel upset because he's being nasty. So no, it's not a competition, and no, he has no idea how I'm feeling. Because, through all of my oh so many faults, I am not nasty to him. I do not say things to him for the sole purpose of upsetting him.

I really really really hope tomorrow is better because I don't know how much longer I can hold on. I'm not going to run out on him whilst he's at his lowest, but I also have my limits, and he may not be able to see what's he doing to me, but it's seriously taking it's toll on me.

I want to die. I hope he's asleep when I go back in.

I can't do this for much longer, I genuinely want to burst into floods of tears half the time. I don't think things are going to be the same, I'm scared of him, even though the reasons why he's pissed off are, for once, not to do with me, and he's said this, I'm still scared. I'm scared of him flipping out again. I'm not allowed to make noise this time, despite the fact that I was trying to actually do something helpful.

I know he's under a lot of stress, and things just seem to be going from bad to worse, which is why I'm trying not to react or do anything, but I still feel scared. I just wish I could do something, anything, I feel so helpless in all of this, and in the same breath I can't for much longer deal with him taking everything out on me. Even if it is indirectly. I have to suffer the consequences, and I feel like I'm constantly dreading on eggshells around the flat. I flinch whenever he gets angry. I am haunted by that car journey to Fakenham; it's like a broken movie reel in my head that just keeps playing and playing, and reminding me of what happens when he gets angry... The threats, the swearing, the hatred, the loathing, spitting at me.

And to seemingly top it all off, it looks like we can't even afford to live here much longer, and that will just be the death keel to our relationship. Again, I can't deal with things being how they were in Reading; I can't have untrusting, the constant stream of snidy remarks, the insistence that I'd prefer to work/study/be with other people rather than be with him, when all of them are not true.
Maybe I'm just being a girl and soppy, but I'd prefer to flat broke, or to get a second job, than not live with him, but he doesn't seem to see it like that. Despite everything, when the times are good, I like waking up to him, I like watching films together, I like having tickle fights, I like all of that... And I don't see that happening if we stop living together. In fact, when I said it would probably be the death keel of our relationship and I asked his thoughts, he didn't seem too fussed :(
I remember him looking so forward to us moving in together....

Maybe our relationship has run it's course? Maybe we just weren't meant to be. I really don't know, but I have tears in my eyes and surely that's an indication of how much he means to me?

Fuck a Duck.

I can't work out if I'm being overly sensitive or what. It just feels like I'm not part of anything, I feel like H is shoving me out slowly, and it's all about her and B now, and that I don't have a say in anything. I always always always give her a say, but for me? Heck no. It doesn't feel like it's part of me anymore. It feels like shit. I feel like I don't have a scooby doo what is going on anymore.

It's tempting to give it in. Let her have her own way. Make her see how dejected she is making me feel. I don't know :(

It seems fatty strikes again...

"and your my obsession, I love you to the bones"

I don't know why I insist on doing this to myself, usually once a month I seem to come across old pictures, or see other's looking thin, or become reminiscent and want to go back to it. I want to be thin. I want to be thin again with all of my heart. I look at myself and I am physically disgusted; I can see the rolls of fat, how my thighs no longer touch, my clothes feeling tighter, my bingo-winged excuse of arms, everything, and I hate myself. I long so much to be able to go back to being thin.
I'm just beginning to accept my body, enjoy my curves... I like my boobs, I some of the time think I look alright, but then I seem to ruin it all by becoming all negative again. It doesn't help that I am the heaviest I have been in a long while and this terrifies the living daylights out of me. And my weight just seems to be increasing no matter what I do. I mean, I know I eat more than I ever have been, but I don't think I consume an excess of 2000 calories, and surely now my metabolism should be working up to speed? I think for the next few days I should just monitor what I eat and begin to cut down on excessive eating, i.e. limited unhealthy stuff such as chocolate, biscuits, sweets, carbs, high calories drinks etc.
I don't know. I'll see what happens.
If I do this for a week, and I'll see what I weigh next sunday or monday and see if it's had an impact at all.

I'd love to be recovered or ill... I hate this in-between stage hating myself, yet not doing anything about it.

Call me over-sensitive, but H really upset me. I would've thought that, being c-f and all that, her first port of call would be to ask me? Am I just being silly? I mean if the roles were reversed then I would ask her first, and certainly would not make it a free-for-all on the facebook page. I don't know :(
I genuinely wanted to cry yesterday. I mean, it just emphasised that we are evidently not good friends anymore, and that she doesn't even seem to regard me as being part of it all. And she then says she hasn't heard from me in ages, but I kept talking to her, sending her stuff etc. and I just for the most part got ignored :(

Maybe I am just being over-sensitive. It appears to be all sorted now. We'll see...

"I don't love you, like I did, yesterday"

He spat at me. We had been back together, what, 15 hours or something, and he spat at me? He just yelled and yelled and yelled... He called me a cunt, everything that's wrong with the world, he said he wanted me to get out of the car on the A47, he said he wanted to kill me, he wanted to smash my face in. How the fuck am I supposed to cope with this?
I didn't ask him to collect me from my parents, in fact I gave him ample opportunity to say "no"... and I highlighted the fact that he would be tired etc. But no. It's all my fault.
I'm not going to lie, this is the most scared I've ever been before in my life. But who the fuck spits at someone, let alone their fucking girlfriend, in an enclosed space of a car, who spits at her?

And then we came back and everything was, for the most part, fine and dandy... He called me over for a cuddle. I don't know what to do. When we are happy, I love him with all of my heart, when I'm apart from him, I love him, but when he acts like this, I am so terrified that it must override that love. He makes me want to kill myself; I actually wanted to jump out of the car. But love is supposed to conquer everything? I promised myself this would be the last time following the whole 'break-up scenario', but here I am, yet again, put up with it, again.

It's Like Quitting Smoking...

"It's hard to say I miss you; Since you've been gone it's not the same"

Well the first 24 hours have nearly passed since we "broke up", and 24 hours since the argument began, and to be honest I still don't know how I feel.
Last night I got into bed and had a little cry all over again; I'm surprised there's anything still left to cry but evidently there was. I feel so sad without him, every little thing reminds me of him; be it cows, tv programmes, music, everything. All are bittersweet memories. My parents said I need to think about what I want - do I even want to be with him anymore? In all honesty I don't know; part of me thinks well perhaps it was meant to happen - we've never broken up before, and we've always been able to make it up and this time we haven't been able to. Surely that's a good indication? On the flipside, the amount I am missing him, and the thought of living without him is unbearable as well... Is this just because I've got used to life without him? So many questions are flooding my mind.

I went to the flat to pick up some more clothes, and to leave a note for him for when he came to collect his stuff. He was there. This completely baffled my mind. Why was he there? Did he decide to sleep there because it was convenient, and then he could pack up his stuff, pile it into the Disco and then go? Did he come back to show that he didn't mean it? Why was his key in the door? It was not on his key-ring as per normal. Was it to stop me getting in? Was it because as soon as he packed his stuff up, was he going to post it through the letterbox? I can't take this not knowing part. It is killing me.

How could he say that he still loved me? Why can't he "put up with me"? Why doesn't he realise that I only "schiz out" when he yells at me unnecessarily? Does he really want to break up? Why do I feel like the bad guy for phoning my parents?

I haven't cried today which is good, but I don't know how much longer I can hold out. I've been able to think rationally today. I left him a poem basically telling him how much he loves me... I hope he responds one way or another. I don't want to go crawling to him, but I don't think I want to leave him either.
I am filled with such unbearable sadness I don't know where to begin. but in the same breath I can think clearly about life without him - Well I can just about.

I don't know, I just don't know.
How the fuck did this happen?