I had this really weird thought, just for a split second. I thought, “I need to call my dad.” If you follow my blog, you know my dad passed away 20 years ago. I wonder why I had that idea.
This morning I was extremely embittered with myself. Everyone and every thing was fueling my anger.
Whenever someone spoke to me, I heard their voices bend into harsh and rigid tones. I was having trouble deciphering whether they were speaking to me or reprimanding me. I was on edge, to say the least.
It was so loud. I feel like I was a stammering idiot the entire morning. I cried like a baby in the bathroom because I couldn’t seem to pull it together. After getting some caffeine in me and talking myself down, I got better.
Then, boyfriend’s mother was waving ten Vicodin pills under my nose lackadaisically. (She “knows” I have a problem with opiates, but she always brushes it off. “It’s natural to be addicted….to each their own.” She is also addicted to painkillers and cocaine. Let’s be real) It took all of me NOT to ask her for one.
Tomorrow is my appointment with the psych to pick up my script for Zyprexa. I’m shitting bricks. I just want to have it, I guess… although, like I mentioned in an earlier post, I’m reading/hearing horror stories. I suppose it comes with the territory of antipsychotics. It doesn’t make it any easier though.
Allie is scared. She’s been upset all day. She’s sitting next to me crying because she’s worried. She’s afraid that the anti psychotics will take her away from me. To be honest, I’m just as scared. I’m sure we’ll sit with each other throughout the night, conversing, exchanging faint goodbyes…just in case. *weeps*
I haven’t really thought about it until I began writing this post. What would happen if she left? Or if Micah left? I hope they don’t disappear.
I’ve been thinking about attending NA meetings in my area. I kind of want to give it try next week.
A support group would be helpful. I would like to get clean off of everything- meds or no meds. Off of inhalants, painkillers…maybe alcohol, but I can’t even fathom not drinking. I’m not as honest as I should be about my drug use and self-harm. Readers, friends, I think I have a problem with drugs and chemical dependency. More so alcohol than anything else.
Damn. I thought to myself earlier, “I should blog about something happy tonight.” Where did that plan go south!?
Something happy… tomorrow is Ash Wednesday. I haven’t figured out what I’m doing for Lent. I like to take on things for Lent, not give something up. However, maybe this season I’ll abstain from gossiping and talking poorly about other people. (Which is difficult, as shitty as it is to say. It’s very easy to complain and bitch about some people in my life… but I think I could benefit from filling my heart with more love than hatred, right?)
Also, another random thought, I’ve been tossing the idea of moving out into my own apartment around in my head, and I’ve come to the conclusion that I would have a really hard time at night. I’m just speaking honestly. I don’t trust myself to be alone when the sun sets. It may sound stupid, but at least in this chapter of depression I’m experiencing, I do not trust myself to abstain from shooting, from self-harming, from drinking myself to sleep. God, it’s sad to admit it, but I mean it. I guess I could surprise myself. I’m not saying I would be like this forever, but right now, within this episode, I don’t trust myself…
Anyways, to all of you reading this, thank you for being such a great support group for me. I really appreciate all of you. I’ve learned a lot these past 3 months, and I’m looking forward to learning more, sharing more, laughing more, writing more.
You are all so awesome.