I saw Nick the weekend just gone, for the first time in nearly two months. I live in Southampton, he lives in York; that 256 miles apart. it was lovely seeing him, but I always knew it was going to be bittersweet - 48 hours goes by very quickly, especially as he was in a play, so was busy 4 hours each night. His flat mates were great, very friendly, and i got on well with his closest friend there, Paul. We got high in the quiet place, played a scooby doo style run and hide game with a drunken Liverpudlian called Gareth who was lost and pretended to be campus security (he was from the University of Security Guards, don't ya know), and listened to good music on an old record player.

Saturday afternoon I had a little breakdown, tried to let Nick into how i've been feeling. I told him I don't want to hold him back and he shouldn't feel obliged to be with me, just out of habit and guilt. He denied he felt like that of course, and we got on with it.

Sunday morning was horrible. He started off suggesting that maybe it would be benficial to my mental health if I had someone, another guy, that I could be intimate with in Southampton. I said I have Ben, he's there for a hug when I need it, but i don't want anything more than that with him. Nick said maybe if I had someone else that I could even sleep with, he wants me to have sex with other people, even have second relationships with other people, for my own mental health. Really? Or are you using me as an excuse because you want to sleep with other people. Obviously. Of course he was. Don't pretend it's for my own mental well-being. We got over that little mis-truth, I didn't make anything of it. I didn't want to argue, so I cried. I cried for hours, all day, 11am till late at night. He told me that we will only be 20, this good looking and virile once, and he doesn't want to look back on this time and regret wasting it. I understand that, I do, but the way he said it was hurtful. I understand that he's curious, and i've felt it before as well. But i'd rather not have him at all than have to share him with other people. He wants our relationship to stay exactly the same, but when we're not in the same town, we should have sex and have relationships with other people.

We both admitted to each other that we'd kissed other people recently. Me a guy called Simon that I shared a bed with after a night out, a friend of a friend. Nick with a girl called Ruth, who he spent months on the electoral reform referendum campain with. He actually liked this person, it was a fantasy fulfilled, but again I left it that we were tit for tat on that count and we laughed it off. I'd met Ruth before they kissed, I didn't like her then, I really don't like her now. She has polyamorous relationships, she gave him books to read on the topic, and then she kissed my boyfriend and invited him into her house. He left, but she wanted him to stay, knowing that he was in a monogomous relationship. How dare she.

I want to be okay with this whole thing, but everytime I talk to him about the possibility of being with other people, I can't help but throw problems into the conversation. Logistically and emotionally, it just won't work in my mind. But for some sick reason, I want him to do it. I want to him to sleep with someone else and see if he enjoys it. I don't want to hold him back, like i'd told him the day before. If he wants to experiment, then he should do that. But because i got so upset by it on Sunday, he won't do it, not as an agreed thing anyway.

I just don't know what to think. And he is getting fed up with me taking this as such a big deal, he didn't think it was a big deal, he doesn't understand why i'm still talking about it three days later, when i apparently don't want to do it and he's agreed to drop it. But it is still a big deal for me, three days later. It is a fucking big deal for me and i can't figure out how i feel about it.

I'm drunk, and alone, and cutting.

I wish this was a new experience. i don't think i've cut for nearly a year. I don't know what's brought it on this time. Well i do. I'm coming off my anti deppressants. But i'm self medicating. I haven't told my doctor that i want to come off them, i've just started taking less and less. I'm prescribed on 60mg a day - i'm taking 5 mg a day at the moment, none today. Andf it's affecting me, i can feel how dependant i am on them. I'vew tried stopping, like cold turkey, but i get these unbelievable headrushes when i do that, i can literally not stand. I had to do a 10 hour shift when i was working in a restaurant when i'd had no pills for about 3 days. I smashed several glasses, got orders wrong and fell over in the kitchen - i'm a good waitress, but i couldn'teven walk into thge kitchen without banging my head on the swinging doors. i got a lot of bruises on that shift.,

But i hate taking them so much. They make me put on weight, about 2 stone, that's nearly 30 pounds, in just over a year, that's helped by the contraception pill a lot , but i'm coming off that next week because my boyfriend is going far away for uni and we're going to see eachother aboout once every two months. He left yesterday, that proibably added to my feeling. also i just  watched a 3 hour documentary about prescribed psychotic drugs - it was total propaganda but by the end, once i'd drank a third of a bottle of sambuca, cried wept and made my arm bleed sufficently, it seemed like a good show. It was condeming the pills which was intrigueing for me, trying to come off of them. but it made me recognise that i need a doctors helkp. I had a panic attackj whilst watching it. I haven't had one of those in about 2 months. It was horrible i hate them. it's what made me start drinking this eveing. as if alcohol could calm a person who thinks they're about to die. Who wants to die.

My flat mate should be home soon, i'm embarrased about how drunk i'm going to be when he gets in, from work. I'm mortified by the amount of typos in this blog, but i also just need to gfet this down as i feel, before i stop feeling.

So alll in all, i'm drunk, lacking drugs, but need to come off them and staisfied in my drunkness and my bleeding arm which never fails to make me feel like... who the fuck knows. who the fuck knows why people self harm and why it makes me feel better and why the same pain i've felt since i first did it is the only time i feel real , and why that searing burn in my lfet arm is the only time i feel anything real, but i also am able to block out the whole world. ben is back right now but i can't even try and notice that he's here in the same room as me, i feel like i'm in a trance almost, i'm typing so fast it's making me sick. i need to stop.

If i was beautiful like you
all the things I would do
Those not so blessed
would be crying out murder
And I'd just laugh
And get away with it too
Like you do

I feel amazingly ugly at the moment.
I almost feel embarrassed when I undress in front of Nick. I want to turn the lights off as soon as I can. It hasn't been like that since we first started sleeping together, over a year now. Since a certain point in time I've prided myself on being totally comfortable with him, naked. But at the moment, even with my underwear on, which i think may actually be worse than being undressed, i cringe at my own body. I'm getting too fat. I look like a giant marshmallow. I'll cry about it and then probably go eat a packet of marshmallows, follwed by a box of pringles and a chocolate bar for good measure, washed down with a pint of cider - to add to the bloatedness.

Arms, stomach and hips. That's what's worst at the moment. I haven't really looked at my thighs, apart from to scratch them, in ages, so i don't even know how they're doing. In the living room yesterday my flat were having a nice chat. we went round talking about our good and bad qualities, our regrets and our accomplishments. What's the one thing you would change about your appearance? I said my skin. All of it. I just want new skin, to start over, is what i said.

I watch One Tree Hill when i want to have a good cry. It always works. It used to be on in the mornings before college, everyday while i ate breakfast i cried along with series 4. A great way to start your day of A level work... I miss college. But that's another blog. Last night i watched the last two episodes of series 7 and i simply lay in bed crying throughout most of that hour and a half. When Hayley jumps into the pool and it does a flashback of her and Nathan, right back to series 1 (i realise how pathetic i sound talking about a tv show right now) i bawled my eyes out, i'd be surprised if hale and tim next door didn't hear me at 1am trying to catch my breath. And when Julian proposed to Brooke i instantly regretted all the times i've told people that maybe i don't want to get married. Maybe i've changed my mind. Maybe i do want a husband and lots and lots of babies. Maybe sometimes i just don't give a fuck about feminism. (...that's just the hormones talking... i hate my period.)

Serious diet time again? Yes, i think so.