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​Last night a man told me he was going to crush my windpipe under his boot and laugh while he watches me take my last breath. I told him to do it. I was disappointed when he didn’t.

He called me lots of names, things that I know I’m not. “Fat dyke,” for example. I am neither fat nor am I a flood defence. But then he said, “I bet you’re a fucking self harmer, aren’t you? You look like one.” I checked and I had my sleeves down, fully, so none of my scars were visible. How did he know? What does a self harmer look like when you can’t see any scars? I asked him how he knew that and he told me to shut my fucking mouth before he gives me a black eye.

But then, since he’s right about me being a self harmer, I thought he must be right about me being a stupid, ugly, fat cunt. A total stranger tried to kill me because I didn’t give him a cigarette because I didn’t have any on me. But he was right about me.

Then a different man, an old school friend of my partner’s who I’ve only met once very briefly, randomly called me all kinds of horrible names and accused me of all sorts of things and told my partner to leave me because I’m crazy. He was also right about me.

I tried to laugh it off but I had a panic attack. Then I went home and slashed up my arm with a razor after nearly 5 months clean from cutting. Now I don’t want to speak or eat or go outside for a very long time. I didn’t realise that people think so badly of me. I didn’t think that I’d done anything wrong to these men but I must be doing everything wrong because they think that I am that awful. I just want to be left alone, and emerge when I’m a better person, but I’m not sure how or when that might be. I want to disappear.

People really don’t realise the power of their words, especially when they’re said to somebody as emotionally unstable as me.