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it's all very confusing. one minute i'm down, depressed, and it's the end of the world. and the next, i am "happy", and optimistic.. one word sums it up: Bipolar.
it's completely fucked up that i'm cursed with this disease. the one i refuse to take the supposed cure-all pills for. the one that takes me on the rollar coaster ride from hell every single day.
today i feel ok. things have been a little turbulant here lately. my screwy mindset has been causing a lot of stress for Kenny and i. and since i've had the medical issues going on and haven't been able to have sex with him, things have been very tense. today changed the vibe of the playing field though. i was finally able to make love to him after almost a month of waiting. it was amazing. and i'm hoping that it will be the start of things getting back to normal around here..
it would help if i could keep my head above water.. it's completely unfair to him for me to be so up and down all the time. he never knows if i'm going to get out of bed. and if i do make it out of bed he never knows the kind of person he's going to be keeping company with that day. it's almost like i am completely different people at times. i could never see it before. but it's starting to become clear to me. i need some help.
i blew off my appointment at the mental health center last week. i deliberately didn't get the paperwork i needed for the appointment so i would have an excuse not to go... i should have gone. nobody made me make that stupid appointment. i went on my own. it was my idea. so why am i shying away from it? because i've been there, done that. and look at me. i'm more of a mess now then i was before the dozen or so therapists and psychiatrists. before the 26 seperate nut ward stays, one of which was a 90 day court-ordered stay that i completed last year. i'm just fucked. and i don't know why i thought it would change.
but maybe it can. maybe i can cooperate with the professionals and actually take my meds and actually comply with the drug addict programs and sexual abuse programs they want me to enroll in. maybe it can be different this time. maybe. maybe.. maybe....
maybe is as good as no to me.
maybe gets you nothing.
i'm not willing to take the chance, waste my time. fuck that.
all i want is to feel alive.. is that too much to ask?
you would think i would learn eventually. you would think that somewhere something would have to give and i would be once again centered. but you're wrong
i never learn. i do the same shit all the time and then am completely perplexed when i don't get different results. that, ladies and gentlemen, is the definition of insanity.
things have been particularily bad lately in my head. nothing seems to make sense anymore and i can't even communicate with my fiance, Kenny properly. i can't tell him what's wrong no matter how much he begs for answers because i, myself, don't know what my problem is. it's all very frustrating. i'm sure it's just as mind numbingly irritating to him as it is to me. and the kicker is i have no idea how to fix it because i don't know what "it" is.. impossible.
right now i'm just wishing i could get high. unfortunately, i don't have any money until my check comes on the 1st. which, realistically, means i won't be able to get high again until the 2nd when my mom comes. damn..
i can't really even function soberly anymore. everything just piles up to the point where i can't breathe. i don't know about the average person (since i'm not what you would call "average") but i tend to enjoy breathing. being high is simply the only way i can do this effectively.. well almost the only way.
the other way is definitely a darker, wicked, alternative. one that is not very widely accepted by 90% of the people in my life. thank god for long sleeves and pants.. they have no idea that i pick the scabs or that my upper right thigh is covered in Hello Kitty band-aids to prevent seepage. they don't know that the sharpness of the blade digging into my flesh is exactly what rounds out my days. they don't know.. and they never will.
it's a very dark place, my mind. and lights are consistantly burning out. how long until i can't see the hand in front of my face?
the intoxication makes it bareable. batteries for the flashlight i found under the bed. but batteries can only hold out for so long.. what will it take for me to clear the rubble, repair the structure, and move on with my life? how long can i possibly hold onto the everlasting misery of every day of my life prior to this one?
which brings me to why i started this brodcasted dump of thought. i need to sort it all out. the only question is: am i up to the challenge?
