Stop the thoughts.

I think about suicide. Then I think about how I have responsibilities, and how it's competition season, and how I've seen proof again and again that suicide is contagious.

Then I think about suicide.
Then I think about how I don't want to give my sister the satisfaction. Then I think about how much I hate myself. Then I think about suicide.

I'm fat. So fat, that my BMI apparently is "morbidly obese". I don't look like I'm dying of being overweight, but I'm fatter than most. I struggled to get into a harness at Rocket Ropes. Once I was in the harness, the fit was so snug that the lady didn't even tighten it. At all. It barely came up over my hips - they're supposed to come up to your navel. I could have got back on that log, if I hadn't been so acutely aware that if I leaned too far backwards, I would fall out, and fall 9m, to another head injury. So I did my best to hold on. It KILLED my arms. I have no upper body strength. I have no grip strength. My arms and shoulders ache, so badly. There's a rope burn mark on one of my hands from where I tried and failed to climb back on to the course. I was so embarassed. So frustrated. So depressed.

I haven't done anything about my weight, aside from eat. I know what I NEED to do, in my current situation, I just can't do it. There's no support here, none at all.

I can't find work. Nowhere will hire me. How can I save to move out of home if I don't have a job? Simple. I can't. I'm paying off a debt to a bank, at $45 per week. I'm paying off over $400 in fines at $5 a week. It would have been about $200 less, but once it gets court actioned, they add another $102 per fine. I didn't have the cash to pay the fines in lump sums, so both got court actioned. I can barely afford public transport.

I cannot afford to study. Even if I move out, and am then in a better frame of mind for study, the money I would get would not be enough to cover rent, and food, and power, and water, and phone, and internet, and public transport. I'm never going to get a qualification. So what does the rest of my life amount to? Get fatter. Work occasionally. Just . . . nothing. My life is pointless. If I can't achieve anything, then what's the point?

Even gym feels pointless at the moment. Maybe it's not, but who cares? There will always be somebody there to coach those boys, because unlike most clubs, ours actually has a decent amount of boys. And from what I can see, others coach them far, far better than I do.

I was going to stop eating, but then when I woke up in the morning, I was hungry. Just more proof that I have no self-control.

I scratched my hand the other night. It's pretty much healed. At least nobody noticed. I'd sort of like to cut more, but I wish I had something sharper - I like the sting and the blood, but honestly? I just don't want to put any effort in.

So there you have it. I'm fat. I'm lazy. I'm unmotivated. I'm unqualified. I'm a drain on the government. I don't deserve to live. And yet, the entire mental health system is intent on keeping me alive, so I can experience all of this over and over again.

You tell me who's thinking unfair things.
Sure looks like the system from where I'm standing.