This Winter

When people know you're mentally ill, most either want to ignore it completely or treat you like you're strange, scary or fascinating

I think sometimes,’ says Nick, ‘you’re so scared of being a burden that it makes you terrified to ask for help. But you have lots of people around you that would be there for you, if you opened up about what help you need.

We all get along fine, but I don't feel like we ever talk about anything important.

Half the time you refuse to even acknowledge that I have a fucking mental illness and the other half you try as hard as possible to make me feel like I'm the last person you ever wanted as a child!

I used to think that difficult was better than boring, but I know better now. There have been a lot of difficult day. There have been too many difficult days.

Sometimes I want to just stop trying altogether. Just stop doing anything at all.

I hate Christmas,’ she says. ‘No you don’t,’ I say. ‘I hate this one.’ ‘Everyone hates this one.

Nobody seems to be saying anything about it, which makes me wonder whether my family are behind it, and they've all been possessed by some ghosts or evil dinosaurs or something.

I know I probably should. I should explain about the argument with Mum and all the arguments we've had over the past few weeks. I should explain how difficult it is to keep trying to do better when there are so many people who just refuse to understand how hard it is. I should explain that I barely slept last night because I was so anxious about dinner and, even though I actually did well, I still feel like everyone was watching me, waiting for me to fuck up and ruin the day. But it's so much easier to just not think about it.

When people know you’re mentally ill, most people either want to ignore it completely or they treat you like you’re strange, scary, or fascinating. Very few people are actually good at the middle ground. The middle ground isn’t hard. It’s just being there. Being helpful, if help is needed. Being understanding, even if they don’t understand everything.

I hate the way people react when they learn Charlie spent a few weeks as an in-patient. As if it’s the most horrific thing they’ve ever heard. It’s because it automatically makes them think mental asylum and crazy people, instead of treatment and recovery and learning to manage an eating disorder.

We get along fine, but I don't feel like we ever talk about anything important

The one stupid thing that fucked up the lives of every single person close to me. I also know I'm a hypocritical piece of shit.

said,“I can’t just stop being in love with you.” And then he cried and held me. And that was that.

I walk up to her, and her face looks like stone. Like ice, maybe. There’s a pause, and then she says, ‘You know, I am trying my best.’ I know she is, but her best isn’t really good enough, and it shouldn’t be about how she feels anyway.

We don’t see our cousins more than a few times a year, but it had become clear to me over recent years that they are very much unlike Charlie and me. Mainly because they seen determined to be friendly and fun all the time.

I should explain how difficult it is to keep trying to do better when there are so many people who just refuse to understand how hard it is. I should explain that I barely slept last night because I was so anxious about dinner and even though I actually did quite well, I still felt like everyone was watching me, waiting for me to fuck up and ruin the day.

I don't think that Nick is a normal boyfriend, or that this is a normal relationship. If I could choose to be with him all of the time, I would, and that's awful because I know that it's unhealthy and you're not supposed to be obsessed with the person you're in love with, because you're supposed to be a person on your own too, but still, every single time, I would choose to be with him.

We stay like that, in the cold porch, just for a few minutes, without saying anything, without moving, and then he whispers, ‘You okay?’ and I start to cry, because that’ what happens when people ask me that question.

That, or they just don’t care. I can relate to that.

I didn’t talk to him enough. I didn’t do enough.

I thought things might change; that we might start being more open about feelings and stuff.

I fight down the urge to hysterically laugh.

But while it’s good that Dad’s checking in, he’s also drawing everyone’s attention to Charlie, which is pretty much the last thing Charlie wants.

Charlie keeps taking out his phone and texting under the table, which kind of starts to piss me off, but I don’t really want to annoy him, as everyone else in the family is doing that already.

I want to cry. I want to do anything to stop him from leaving.

He’ being unfair, but I don’t have any right to be annoyed at him.

Not that that matters. I don’t matter. He matters.