Wednesday, June 13, 2007

write it out

this time of day the black fog rolls in. i feel like i am trying to chew on or bite into a quarter. nauseous. bad goosebumps. nails on a chalkboard, that kind of feeling. a whole body migraine sort of.

take a pill and lay down. close the shades.

different from the morning with the coffee and the cigarettes. stimulating. ideas and projects. feeling the ability to do anything. hyperproductive. lets move a couch up the stairwell of the sears tower and go get breakfast after.

but now, its different. the shades are drawn. no prospect for the future.

the mood swings are terrible. hard to plan anything because you don't know where you'll be mentally when you are expected to be somewhere, and expected to be yourself. whoever that is.

with so many years of medication it is difficult to tell who "myself" is. myself comes around once in awhile. a happy accident. there he is! a stand in appears when myself is not there. and he is a cheap imitation.

more chills, nauseousness. and no one to explain it to really. no one who gets it. no one who has the manual on me.

i caught myself praying just a minute ago.
please give me the strength to get through it.

just another afternoon spell.

this is not working. not seeing therapist right now. talking in circles. too expensive. checks bouncing all over the place.

one thing i will do is go for a walk around the block. no ipod. this seems to work or is advised, at least, to us, the depressed-- "the walking dead," as oprah described recently.

my goodness. i apologize. carry on. this is not unusual. i just chose to write it out today. honest writing should do no harm.

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