damik's Diaryland Diary

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Do these things have a shelf life?

OK here is the thing, the thing is here: I lay in bed, sleep has become a problem again, I napped twice and slept in once and whamo blamo its like I was back to square one. I don't have my job back, was I a fool to expect it, maybe, but here we are. I don't want to have to threaten to have to find a new job, I don't want to have to find out that it won't work this year because of the b-b-b-billions of dollars cut from the budget. I don't want to actually have to find a new job because I can't afford to lose my benefits, even though I'm going to lose them one way or another.

And that's not what's keeping me up at night, the winter is keeping me up at night. I worry about it every year and every year I make it, but this is the first year I spent all of the summer popping psychotropic meds in an attempt to keep me out of the hospital.

I don't want to start this cycle all over again, but it feels like I'm rolling down hill. Tell my doctor, tell my doctor, tell my doctor, I know. I feel like I'm on a swing and I can almost touch that cloud when I get jerked back again. I don't know how I'm supposed to function like this. Remember trying to crawl out of the ball crawl as a kid? It was fun back then.

12:57 a.m. - 08-23-09
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