Sunday, 30 June 2013

St Anger

Right now I am in a bad dark place. The last lot of meds are still making me feel awful, dizzy, restless, irritable. Started the new ones last night and it left me knocked out for over 12 hours. I awoke feeling like I hadn't slept. I can barely type right now or make sense to myself (thank the Gods on high for spell check, all that's gawping back at me are squiggly little red lines), thoughts are self critical and I am doing as much as I can to mentally kick the crap out of myself. Yesterday, despite a good gym session I came home angry and irritable like the Hulk with a hangover. I had to try and do something with it lest I broke something I'd have regretted. So I tried to clean up my space, get rid of things, clean up and make space. I did this and it went well, got stuff done and resolved to continue tomorrow, or rather today, Sunday. Fat chance. Now? Now I'm keen to either a) cut myself up b) admit myself in to hospital, or at least get there to seek some sorta help. but that would mean having that conversation with my Mother, the one I had last year when things were bad and that's not a good feeling to have, the thought of having to explain myself and the darkness inside, having to admit to it, asking for help, serious help. I don't know what to do. My body is tender and tired but inside it rages, angry, irritable and annoyed at, well, itself, me.

Too fucking angry to type now. Cut yer nails you stupid fuck then maybe you could type better.

Balls to it. Whatever it is.

I walked a thousand miles just to sleep this skin...

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