The Journel Of A Miserable Lesbian.
Depression was always in my life.
Getting drunk and scoffing cakes helped.
Lines of cocaine helped.
Whoring myself about helped.
The Priory had me as their patient for “depression”
I left in the end because my “rules” weren’t the “rules” of the unit.
When my ex and I split, I went “crazy” mentally.
First it was rage.
Then came the major “depression”
I took my rage out on everybody.
Then I didn’t move from the sofa.
Crying and having delusions.
I couldn’t eat and couldn’t focus on anything other than being hurt because I brought it on myself.
If it wasn’t my fault, it probably would of felt easier to bare.
I lost the lot.
Sanity.
Friendships.
My ignorant girlfriend.
Barely had a roof over my head.
Lower than a pig’s arsehole I was.
