Hello everyone. I must admit I'm having a great deal of trouble reading about people's family life and spouses. It's like having acid thrown in my face at the moment (not blaming people at all, that's just how it feels.) I have been dragged further and further into depressiopn, like a strong undertow that pulls you under even when the sea is calm on the surface. I've had more and more sleepless nights tormented by visionless nightmeres, more outbursts at people that are like an unspoken wickedness trying to regurgitate itself. I've had days when I've just worked at forcing myself not to cut my arms, and the suicidal feelings are becoming normal. I do all the tricks and strategies but I just get 'family family family' thrown back in my face.

So I saw the psychiatrist today and the cold glazed bitch announced there was nothing wrong with me and I should come off the drug I'm on, (carbamazapamepazepine (sp?) and she can't really be bothered with it all now and I should just go and harrass my GP instead. The only answer she had was to take olanzipine tablets which knock me out for 24 hours every time I take the minimum dose. So she reckons I should just go back to being a zombie, three years after I escaped from seroxat hell. I told her (again) I don't have any carers, I am completely isolated, but she just washed her hands of me.

I hate our mental health service. I hate psychiatry. It is brutal and inhumane. I can't bear the pain anymore, and the rage attacks and murderous fantasies and screaming fits. I just want what most people take for granted. I considered the exposure therapy but I think it might drive me completely mad. I can't try any harder than I have, for so long. I've had enough. I'm sick of being on my own.

I know you will all say I'm not on my own, but I am. 35 years is too much to be waiting for someone to love me.