Today has been rough. I had multiple arguments with my mother, who seems to revel in blaming her unhappiness on my unhappiness, completely disregarding the fact that whilst at university my ups and downs of emotion have positively zero effect on her life and relationships. I've been intermittently crying and shouting all day, storming out of the house twice and now finally in my room, trying to distract myself with Lost and talking to old London friends.

I want to say to her, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being a fuck-up. I'm sorry for messing up your life. I'm sorry for sucking the joy out of your day. But then the other half of me just thinks: screw all of you. I'm depressed and I'm not apologising. So why don't you just leave me alone to my misery, and my days spent in bed, and my insular world. Just leave me alone because I know you can't handle it.

No one can handle it, especially not me. I think I am borderline bipolar by medical standards, and need to go back into psychotherapy. I get these intense waves of euphoria that come crashing down so hard in the space of just a few hours. I don't know who I am anymore, and sometimes, I wonder if imitation is all I'm good at. I'm just playing a part and sleep-walking through life, hoping someone will notice and pull me out of the hole. But no one ever does, not for long enough anyway. I guess it's not their responsibility, it's mine.

I ate two scrambled eggs on toast, with ketchup, and then a chicken salad sandwich, even though I didn't want it. Then there was the black coffee chock-full of sweetener that I downed while I was out, along with three cigarettes. I was just chaining outside Starbucks, waiting to calm down. I couldn't go back into the house in that state.

So that's around 550 calories, and it's only 6pm. I want to go down and spend time with my mother, but I know that she can't stand to be around me. She said so herself.