For a minute there I lost myself

I don't know whether it's the lack of sleep or the absense of meds but my mood has fucking crashed big style. I'm back to hiding in the dark with my phone turned off and my door locked. I'm scared to even go to the kitchen or the bathroom in case my flatmate's in and I have to have a conversation.

I know it's just a 'bad day' but it's so fucking intense and as much as I have good stuff planned to look forward to it doesn't change the fact the it's a fucking shit time of year and no matter what I do or how busy I am I'm still fucking haunted by all the memories.

ffs

I know that this has been triggered off by Ken fucking Clarke and his Torie right fucking wing 'serious rape' fucking bullshit that I just can't get out of my head.

I just don't know what to think anymore, how I should feel, I've been fighting so hard for the last few months to get to a place where I can say that what happened to me wasn't okay and now it's just fucking dissolved into a torture game of well, you didn't get smacked about, you didn't put up a fight, you were young, you were drunk, you knew him, your life wasn't in danger etc etc etc.

I hate myself and I want it to stop. I want to hack fucking pieces out of myself. I just can't switch off. I can't sleep. I can't fucking think straight. My head's full of noise and blurs.

FFS