damik's Diaryland Diary

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Taking thing to make it better

I took my meds like I should because they are not controlling me. They are helpful. I will be tired but that's OK. I can live with tired. Tired and fat. It will be a great combo. I gave myself a bloody nose hitting my head trying to get the voices to stop. I'm alone so I can be crazy. I sit on the couch pretending that DH is sitting next to me and I have to act normal because of this. I can't be rocking back and forth talking to myself while hitting myself in the head while he is there. I can't curl into a fetal position on the floor talking to myself if he's home. I have to be normal. I should stay surrounded by people so I don't act crazy. It doesn't mean I don't escape to the bathroom or my bedroom and act out sometimes. There is something about pacing around the bath tub fluttering and muttering that just works. It doesn't calm me down. It doesn't make the voices go away. But I have control. I have pretend control. I can tell the voices to go away. I can argue with them. The tub is our stage set for debate. I don't know how to fight them though. I should cut myself. One two three for five ten fifteen twenty. But I only have to do it once she says, once if I cut lengthwise. Once per arm. And yo know what? It's not working, it's not working, it's not working. I am tired, and I can go to bed and leave the voices to my dreams, to my subconscious, but that just sets the stage for withdrawal and depression. The other voice, oh look, she's on the computer again. Such a useful person. She totally contributes. Remember that thing called a job? that thing that everyone with value does? Useless, worthless, pathetic, empty shell of a person. What is your fucking point? And I worry that he is right, that I don't have any worth. How can I be a value if I can't offer up anything valuable? They didn't see that walking around the path was laid out to trap them in the marsh. I want to go eat something, but I don't want to leave the house. I can hold it together while I'm out and about. I can hold it together when I'm home alone, but I don't because I don't want to I'm a drama queen and I want the attention. I can't read, I watch TV, but really I'm staring through it most of the time. I want to get out there and crush some glass, but I'm not sure, I can't really use my craft room because it it full, taken up, it's not my craft room anymore. OK, the meds are kicking in and I want to go to sleep. The question is should I do that? Or should I power through and do something with my day. I want to go outside, I want to eat. I keep going to the fridge, but nothing jumps out at me. There is nothing chocolate smothered to get excited about. I could go to the store and buy more magic shell and ice cream. Things shouldn't be faster than that. An hour and forty five minutes or so. I ordered my meds, I need a refill on my synthroid but the doc has to call in for refills. I don't understand why, I had a prescription from my GP. I'm sure I gave it to them to have as just a hold. I'm sure I did. I can look around, but I don't know.

3:05 p.m. - 04-22-13
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