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...

Raw

My head is all over, kinda like its in a 60's psychedelic video, swaying, warped, dizzy.
As soon as I get up I can feel it, like someone is grabbing and shaking my head like a snow-globe.
Inside I can feel a tightness an irritability wrapped up in nausea silently throbbing away. I'm quick to anger right now, feeling brittle as a frosty spider web and as cold as one too. Remember my older post, irritated by everything, pleased by nothing? That's what i'm feeling right now. I've been off the meds for a week and am due on the new lot tomorrow. More side effects; either way you get them, on/off or in-between and this damn hay-fever is a distraction that is just pilling on the annoyance right now.
The urge to SI and the urge to fling this bastard laptop against a wall and watch it break is strong.
But best not eh? I'd regret it. Must keep it in the now, this bastard hay-fever, itch itch! Like some damned little imp is in the middle of my throat tickling at my throat and ears.
Such eruditeness eh? 
Bollocks.

Hate goodness ... I want everyone corrupt...

Mixed bag dreams

My dreams lately are all over the place, very little tie-ing them together and a bit more surreal than usual. Some might say they were nightmarish but to me it's like a good film in my head. most of the time, my nightmares are based on atmosphere and feeling than imagery. 
Anyway, they were violent and had distinct Mad Max with Prodigy overtone to them. As well as dealing with my gas mask obsessions.
It started off with some fella who everyone was convinced had changed for is violent ways but whenever he went near me would try and choke me, yet every-time anyone saw it they could n't see it Another part of the dream had me battling the Prodigy with a nail gun, afterwards, a big battle that 'we' had won, they all had these gas masks on with eye pieces that were full of neon gassy blue. Throughout the dream it was dark too, like a horror movie that only has daylight at the end when all is done and alls well. No day light in mine but that's good. So yeh, dreams are all over since coming off meds and my head is swimming, or rather it feels like it is as soon as i get up, like my inner spirit level has shifted from left to right harshly. It's an odd feeling.
So, 4am and the birds are tweeting.
What can I cram into my gap in the clouds today?

I 'ear thunder, but there's no rain.....

Distractions from the doggie

In an effort to distract myself from er.. myself. I will now write some musings on sitcoms that I have been watching, either through choice or through a dozy depressed induced sort of non-choice.
So then...

2 Broke Girls

1) What can you say about this show apart from, shite?
2) This show appears to suffer from Liver Bird syndrome, that being people only watch to see the brunette in it.
3) If Kat Dennings leaves this show it'll disappear from our screens quicker than Jimmy Saville fronted 'Top of the Pops' reruns.

HIMYMother

1) Why is Ted getting more cloying, mawkish and annoying the longer this show goes on?
He appears to be in continuous arrested development.
2) Why hasn't Barney contracted some sort of awful STI yet and why hasn't any of the women he's shacked up with spread the word about him being a potentially STI infected slag?
3) Shouldn't those 'kids' at the start of the show be actual adults by now?
4) Marshall, again why is he getting more annoying and punchable the longer the show goes on?

The Big Bang Theory

1) Raj, an insufferable prat or an annoying git?
2) Since being married, why does Howard insist on that bloody awful early 60s Beatles haircut?
3) Why is it that Leonard never ever takes off his coat, especially when indoors and at home?  And why do none of them ever have any sort of lounge-manky-chill-out-at-home wear?

King of Queens

1) Fat bloke, attractive bird, who argue near constantly and put themselves in situations that would end any other relationship? About as believable as me and my happy face.
2) Er.... that's it really. The first one tops anything that could follow. 
Even George Costanza's dad living with them.

Rules of Engagement

1) Claudia from 'Grounded for Life' married to Puddy from 'Seinfeld'?! See King of Queens point 1.
2) Russel, see HIMYMother point 2.
3) That Timmy bloke, why does he insist on calling his boss 'sir' in and out of work?
And, despite having a flat generic English accent, what's with the, 'I'm from South Africa' quips every-time someone says so? Not with that accent broo. You sound about as South African as Russel Brand. Broo.

Phew! I feel much better.
Until tomorrow, of course but still, small mercies and all that.

Not so super breakout

Have you ever played that game, Breakout, that has this paddle at the bottom of the screen and you bat this little ball up into a wall of breakable bricks. The ball bounces around and you sort of direct it up to them to break them down. Sometimes a slot appears and the ball gets stuck between the wall and the bricks constantly bouncing away breaking bricks until it well, breaks out.

This is what it’s like when I get a certain dark thought in my head. Big or small it bounce around causing damage weakening my defences such as they are and this is what it’s been like lately. It had been going well, drama classes, the attempt to get back into some sort of team exercise and games, back to running and the gym. Heck, I even finished, Assassin’s Creed Brotherhood game. But, my mind’s version of breakout has buggered it up. Yesterday, I had an assessment to do. Did I get there? No. Failed again. Just like last year when I didn't go. Frak. My battles are becoming losses with very small victories. The war goes on but boy, am I taking losses.

Sleep is going back to night-owl status with the odd bit of over-sleeping. This may increase due to me being on new meds soon. This entails me coming of the old ones gradual, last week down to one, this week down to none. Bit scary, as I know what may come. Baton down the hatches. Or in tis case, under the duvet I go. The one thing I've noticed about being a night-owl is that the darkness is something I like because it feels as if I can hide into it, be absorbed into it, taken away from life so I don’t have to deal with this head full of thoughts and black.

I’m trying. When its early doors and I’m still awake I try and cram as much as I can, either the gym or tasks, washing clothes, cleaning up, filling out what-ever, shopping; normal day-to-day stuff that I might fail at before. It’s my morning window of opportunity, like a depressive’s worm-hole, a chance to enter a world of do-ability. But be quick because it closes. If yer lucky it’ll open again, if not it’ll be a while until it opens again and then just remembering to clean yer teeth becomes a task on its own.

A week with no meds? KBO I guess.

Or I hope.

I know what's coming

Do I  want to be a dead body or do I want it all to stop?
A question that a Doctor asked me once last year and I think it's the former though some-days I can't tell the difference between the two.
I had a dream this morning that involved me looking at myself in a mirror and realising that my body had withered and my face had taken on a changed look due to my depression in  an Emperor after the dark side had enveloped him kinda way. I knew it was a dream near the end and called myself, silly, before walking up but thinking about it I know why the dream occurred  It's because I do want some sort of visible mark or scar of this damned black, to prove to myself and to prove to others. This is real damn it all, This isn't me being indulgent, weak or overly dramatic and see here? These scars, these marks, this withering? There is it is, right there. Easier for you to deal with now is it?
Or am I trying to justify this all to myself? Frak knows. 
Answers on a postcard to....


This mess of a man

Irritated by everything, pleased by nothing

Listening to the Manics album, this is my truth tell me yours, for the umpteenth time, is sometimes so comforting to me that its like slipping into a comfy housecoat, sliding into a pair of warm slippers and enjoying a nice cuppa all in one. It relaxes me and keeps me grounded better than any pill could. Well, I say that but I've yet to try heroin but hey, you get my point.

These last few days have been pretty bad. The reason? I don’t know. Moments of anger, moments of sadness, moments of tiredness all meshed into one. Every-time I think back to why I come up with no clear answer, all I can recall is it being a feeling that rains down on me and down I go. Sleep has been an odd affair lately too, a bit jittery and panicky. I've now gone back to oversleeping as well, finding it hard to get up and even harder to work up any sort of enthusiasm for anything. I’m on a higher dose again so I’m presuming this is part of the side effects but still, it doesn't tie in with the whole, ‘happy pill’ image at all. 

My irritation is something I’m finding hard to control, mostly at myself it makes an already bad situation just more annoying and it can be over anything too. Being outside, walking, seeing people, silly I know and hell, even now I’m irritated by the very words I’m typing out right now. SI sort of helps but then the last bout of that has left a couple of marks that will no doubt leave scars, which was what I wanted but I am forgetting that in the cold light of day others may spot them which may being more trouble than its worth, possible embarrassment too. Thankfully I rarely show my legs off in public. 

The point is I’m finding it very difficult to enjoy anything. The gym, acting, going outside. It’s all numb to me which is scary as these are the things I used to love and near live for. I buy things on Ebay, things I need by the way… for the most part, in the hope it’ll make me happy, excited, something to look forward to in the post, like a little present to myself but no, it rarely lasts.

It just all layer after layer of sweetness, like adding spoonful after spoonful of sugar to a big pot of the bitterest coffee only I can’t taste the sweet at all. All I feel inside is more akin to a dead leg, numb and unfeeling to all. I feel like the only way through it is to act and keep on acting until something happens and I return to some sort of normalcy.

Where does it all end?

If you’re interested in and want another perspective of depression then may I suggest you try Robert Enke’s biography? He was a German goalkeeper who killed himself after a battle with depression.  I found it a very good but sad read and you don’t have to be a football fan to get anything out of it. I find these reads better than the, I beat depression or, I tamed the black dog type books. They say nothing to me and smack more of a depressive episode rather than someone who had or has depression.