Bed Rest

Not doing too great today. I wasn't feeling well, and came home. The stomach pain is gone, mostly, but I don't want to get out of bed. I'm writing this post from my tablet, I can't get to my computer. That takes effort. Instead, I'm curled in bed watching CSI:NY and blogging or trolling pinterest. My parents are outside and enjoying the evening air.

I want to sleep, but am unable. Or else my system is unwilling. I'm tired. Damn it... I am so tired that just thinking about it makes me want to cry. I won't though, I can't. I think I may have forgotten how. That isn't true, I do cry, just never often.

Damn you, depression! Damn you.

The Brain is Messed Up Organ

I don't want to be awake. I'd rather be sleeping and not having to think about anything. Not about how my failures as a daughter, as a person, as anything. I have zero motivation. There are so many things that need to be done. I have to finish: Two cross stitch patterns, a knit shawl, handful of books. I also need to get jewelry made to sell in my etsy shop. Zero traffic in the shop. Mostly because I have not the faintest idea of what I'm doing. I can make it, but I'm having a hard time selling.

I'm never going to be good enough for anything am I? Certainly, not good enough for my own standards. Damn it. DAMN IT!

Fighting the urge to injure right now, I want to, if for no other reason then to make the emotions tangible. I'm wanting to sleep and forget. I have some alcohol but no sleeping pills, which I suppose is good thing. I don't see Doc for another week. Joy... I just hate that I even think this way. "Just one injury, just one cut or burn and I'll be all right." But I won't be. I cut the other day on my leg. It hurts more there than on my arm. I can't believe I'm analyzing this. More pain here then there... the brain is seriously a messed up organ. 

What's the Hatter With Me?

I'm feeling a bit manic today. I can't keep still, I have to move something. My hands are shaky, a foot is tapping to nothing and not in beat with the music on the iPod. I went to bed upset, though I don't know why. Took everything I had not to scream my lungs out. Right now, I want to scream until my throat is raw. I want to cut until I'm a mess. The stinging would set me straight, at least a little bit right? Right?? No...? Oh well.

I don't know what's wrong with me, but its like I'm trying to crawl out of my skin. The sudden thought of throwing a rock through my bedroom wall came to me and now I'm having a hard time getting that out of my head along with the thoughts of harming. Oh the joy!

I have worship in about an hour, at least that's when I leave for it. Like this? Of course. By the time I get there I may even appear to be normal. I know I'm going to have to injure to get that done though. I'm too flipping out right now.

Did you ever see Johnny Depp as the Hatter? I feel that way, everyplace at once and only lucid when absolutely necessary. "What's the hatter with me?" Yep, crazy as a deaf bat in the nighttime! WOOHOO!

Medicaid and Me

So therapy today went well. It looks like I can use medicaid to continue therapy starting in January, only a few weeks away. There was talk of cognitive behavioural therapy. I've not had the best of luck with people that have gone through that process. They come out being annoying and preachy, sounding much like a religious zealot. We'll see.

I'm just tired of feeling like this all the time. I'm always depressed, its hard for me to be motivated to do anything. I'm almost always on edge these days, its like that's my new normal and I hate it. I hate it! The feelings of being worthless are weighing on me.

I told Doc something I never have outside of my little blog that no one seems to read. I told her that "I'm stupid with sleeping pills". She asked for clarification. I have taken sleeping pills with alcohol because I don't want to deal with anything, just sleep and forget. Bingo, pills and booze. Technically, its self harm because its not the best thing for the liver and because the goal is to make the pain go away. Not something I'm proud of and it could easily have become a very bad and addictive habit. Now I have rules when it comes to pills like that.

I think that my sleep patterns worry Doc. I'm doing better! I can get at least five to seven hours of sleep these days. Better then even a few months back where four to five was the limit. So come January, we'll see how things are going.

Damn You, Murphy

That went well... If it could go wrong it did. The heater in my car doesn't work, but then neither does the passenger window, so I'm screwed no matter what time of year it is. I had to deal with monumental stupidity at work, every fool and her son had to have shown up! I scratched my hand on the register and asked for a bandage. Took twenty minutes to get one and I had to do it myself on my break. Until then, my finger was wrapped in packing tape. I was almost hit by carts in the store and then vehicles on the road. Everyone was a maniac!

With everything going wrong, I was so angry, all I wanted to do was to injure and reset myself, like flipping a switch. In the end, I chose to take a very hot shower. That helped. I apologized to Mom for shouting at her. First thing I did when I came home was to shout at her all my frustrations. I should get her some flowers as a thank you.

Part of the problem was my sleeping, or not sleeping to be more precise. I go to bed at eleven, shut off the lights and stare at the damned ceiling. I was awake at one then again at three before I gave up at five. Sometimes I can sleep without problems, sometimes I don't. If I take an otc sleep aide, I wake with a head ache. Not worth it. I'm buzzing, I don't know really what the issue is. I can't work retail anymore, all I want to do is scream at everyone.

Maybe that is why people "go postal" and start shootings and whatnot in stores. Little wonder... And for the record: I HATE GUNS AND WOULD NEVER USE ONE!! A life isn't mine to take, not even my own.

Lost Time

I mentioned this to Doctor B at our last session. The last few days I've lost track of time, I've been ahead of myself. For instance, if the clock reads three in the afternoon I'd be convinced its seven in the evening. Then I shut down in a way. Kind of like leaving your computer on and the screen saver goes? Like that. People would have to say something for me to pop back awake again. Its rather disconcerting.

The lost time makes me edgy and need something to hold myself in place. Usually this means injuring, which is exactly what I've done. Several times. I have four fresh sets of cuts as of today. I really want to burn, but feel like I should hold off, that I have to. There are far too many marks on my arms as it is, but I seem to crave it more when I shouldn't. Doc has told me that I should try allowing myself to cry more often, that the release of emotions would be better for me. She's right, of course, but my problem is that I seem unable to cry when I need to the most. Its troubling.

I'm having trouble sleeping again and that is probably adding to everything. I wonder if I should ask for sleep aides? No, best not. Most are addictive and I'll forget to take them anyhow. I was also thinking that letting my T read my blog may offer some insights since I am more free with my thoughts as a writer then a talker. I'll ask about it with some friends of mine that have had similar situations and get their input.

Bad Idea

For some reason, I am feel very edgy and I do not like it. I can't seem to think straight and I feel that if I would injure then I could be stable again. This is not logical, I know that. Maybe I could take a sleeping pill and be all right? I'm not wanting to do that yet again because I had a beer earlier.

My therapist did not like it when I said that self injury is like destroying myself one bit at a time, but what else could I call it? I feel like this entire thing is one big bad idea. I feel fat and ugly. I feel manic... I don't know what to do or think right now. The whole thing is giving me a head ache. Fuck it... I'm taking the pill and going to sleep!

Which Is Worse?

I'm not sure which is worse, sleeping or waking, the night or the morning? At night, I don't want to sleep, despite how tired I am. In the morning, all I want to do is sleep. The night means I will sleep eventually and in so doing dream those nightmares that are haunting me. The dawn means the nightmares are finally over, but then I have to work. You can see the dilemma.

My nightmares of late are resembling something from a thriller movie. For instance, one of my latest dreams found me strung up in a warehouse, dangling from my wrists. Two men emerge from the shadows, one clearly in charge, the other a stooge. The leader is demanding me to answer his questions. In the dreams, I either cannot or will not answer, all depends on what he is asking. No matter which, he is always dissatisfied with my responses and orders the other man to do something. That "something" varies, but it always graphic and painful. I have been electrocuted, beaten, burned with cigarettes, branded with hot irons, and whipped. Never all in the same dream, but often paired together in some way. I wake in a cold sweat, thankful that it was all just a dream, though that word seems too soft for what has been going on in my head.

I cannot tell you what is making me think these things before I sleep. I've tried everything from watching cheerful cartoons to not reading or watching anything remotely graphic in nature to no avail. I am wondering what the flying hell is wrong with me. Does everyone dream like this? Or is it just me?