It was all calm, then just like that it wasn't.

I wish she had never seen me with the book 'Breakfast At Tiffany's'.

Suddenly she was shouting about how I 'always get what I want', and how everything is 'always dictated' by me. As if I asked for this.

My Dad was nearly crying telling her that I didn't like being this way, that I couldn't help it. I don't think it mattered.

I know she hates me. I don't blame her.

I keep thinking about suicide and dying, and the sadness is eating me from the inside out.

I didn't even ask for the book. My Mum ordered it, then told me after.

I have to start taking the anti-psychotic. The psychiatrist said it would help the anti-depressants to be effective. She also doubled them. It isn't working.

I am 15 years old.

I just want this to stop. I'm so, so, so sad, and I feel too tired to live.

I just want it to stop. I want not to feel it anymore. The constant sadness and hopelessness that lives and grows inside me.

It just hurts so much.

Yesterday we went to the sea. Not really to the sea, more the beach, because the tide was too far out. All I wanted was to walk next to the ocean, but it wasn't possible. I thought maybe it meant something, but maybe not.

The diet has been going OK:

Breakfast- cereal bar

Lunch- small salad with a quorn burger or quorn nuggets

Tea- small packet of dried fruit

I haven't lost any significant amount of weight. I don't have a scale or anything, but I can tell by looking in the mirror that I'm just as fat and ugly as before. But at least I haven't put any weight on. I'm thinking about cutting don on food even more when I go back to school, but I don't know yet.

I just feel so sad and empty all of the time. I don't feel like a main charater in my own life, or even a supporting one. I feel like no one knows I exist.

I wish that my morning didn't start with two little green pills. I've been taking them for a while, but it doesn't ever feel right. My parents dole them out to me, because they don't trust me.

I keep having horrible dreams about having to go back to Primary School, despite the fact that after the summer holiday I'm only going to have one year left in Secondary School before I have to go to college. The dreams always end with me crying, and wailing about how I don't want to do it again, and that I've already finished Primary School. I don't know why I'm getting them.

I've also come to the realization that almost everything I do is to escape reality. Watching Netflix, reading, daydreaming. I can't blame myself though.

The thoughts are getting worse, and I feel more alone than ever. I wish I was dead.

I feel like such a pathetic loser. Today one of my sisters went out with her boyfriend, and the other went for a sleepover with her friends. I have no friends, and no boyfriend or girlfriend either. I just wish I did, but its hard to meet people, and even if I could my social anxiety is so bad everyone would just think I was a freak. Ever since he called me that I've always had it at the back of my mind. I am a FREAK.

I'm beginning to hate myself even more as well. I tried going on a diet today, but ended up blowing that. I've been trying for weeks, but I'm too stupid and weak-willed.

The reason for the diet is I'm fat and ugly. And I'm not just one of those people saying it for compliments, or one of those pretty teen girls who say it because they think thats what expected of them. With me its true. I know going on a diet won't fix ugly, but it should hopefully help fix fat, which should make the ugly more tolerable.

Anyway, I'm gonna go now. I hope whoever you are, if you've even read this far, that your life is going better than mine. I just want you to know I exist out there, I think.

I can't remember what it felt like to feel 'normal'.

I can't remember what it felt like to wake up and not wish I hadn't.

I can't remember what it felt like to not want to die.

I can't remember what my body looked like without the scars.

I read her poems and they made sense to me. Especially the one titled 'Elm'. My favourite part is when she says: 'I am terrified by this dark thing that sleeps in me; all day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity'. It felt like what I wanted to say, but couldn't. I read her book and it felt true. Sylvia Plath has always been my favourite poet, and the 'Bell Jar' has always been one of my favourite books.

I can't help but feel the weight pressing in, and I wish I could sleep easier, because sleeping is my favourite thing right now.

It amazes me that I actually got out of the unit.

They kept me in for five months. FIVE MONTHS. The day after I arrived, I had my fifteenth birthday. It was the worst birthday I've ever had. I spent it in a mental unit, alone. I kept thinking, this time last year newly fourteen me would've never forseen this.

They kept trying to get me to 'engage' with therapy, not knowing that I COULDN'T. Eventually, they let me go when it became clear I wasn't gonna accept help. They gave up, you could say. But I don't blame them. I did too.

Now I'm out and nothing's changed. I still wonder about the other kids though. Is Taylor out yet? Is Olivia finally a healthy weight? But most of all, do any of them ever wonder about me?

I never made friends there. My Mum used to tell me: just talk. They'll like you. Who wouldn't? But I couldn't, and I can't. I've always felt awkward socially.

I found out that there's a word to describe my trouble fitting in, making friends, needing order. Asperger's Syndrome. I got diagnosed while I was there. Knowing that about myself was the only good thing to come out of being in the unit. At least now I have a word for why I've always felt different. I also learnt that people with the sydrome are more prone to Depression, self harm, and Anxiety. The more you know.

I keep wondering if I'll end back up in the unit. I hope not. I just need to keep acting like I'm coping.