It’s been just under four hours since my flight back home landed. I was picked up at the airport by sister 1 and I had dinner at her place (which is currently my parents house). After a quick dinner I finally returned back to my own place and caught up with all my girls. The two small girls (the rats) were happy to see me. The two bigger girls (my housemates) were pleased to see me, but I didn’t sense an overwhelming hooray from either of them. At least my rats know who I am (I think).

After I got home I spent about half an hour in the house before I wigged out. I ended up sculling a small quantity of whisky and walking down to a nearby park. At the park I found a set of hockey goals – it’s strange to think that I used to use these hockey goals back when I was 13. I had a lie down and cried a little.

When I get my depressive episodes my thoughts tend to run in cycles. I can feel these cycles coming on and I’ve got mixed emotions about them. A part of me says that these cycles are great. Even though they normally result in suicidal thoughts they are the only form of release I have and it feels so… fulfilling..

Another part of me recognises that wanting to kill yourself probably isn’t cool. Since I’ve started taking the medication I’ve been able to pull myself back from this edge more and more often. I’ve got slightly more control over these cycles (provided I get in early enough).

It feels like my entire life is split into two halves. There are two people on the inside of me, fighting each other each moment of the day. Then there are two people outside of me, one works all day and the other does nothing all day. I’ve come off nine days straight working twelve hour shifts and now I’ve got five days all to myself. Only I’ve got nothing to do on those five days off. Apart from work I have no life. I don’t even have a place to call home. Each time I come back to my house I feel like a stranger. Like I don’t belong there.

Ah well. I pulled myself back again tonight. Somehow.

I have an appointment with my doctor tomorrow morning. I’m not sure what I should say. Since my medication has increased I haven’t felt any more side effects. I’ve had no reaction whatsoever.

Well that’s not entirely true. I’ve had some problems with ‘inorgasmia’ (that’s right.. I’m officially a stud). But I’m not sure how to explain that to the doc. I’m not sexually active atm. So how do I say “Whenever I have a bat I can’t reach the normal conclusion”. Hmmmm. I might just lie about that one for now.

Only five days to go.

1 Comment
  1. sadrn 13 years ago

    I can completely relate…I often work upwards of 70hrs a week (12+ hr shifts) just to avoid coming home to my empty apartment. I've found that my job provides me with the social contact I need to stay on "this" side of sane…even though it's quite an insane job. The constant crises gives me opportunities to experience real emotion…though, sadly, I often fake it.

    Rats huh…I prefer cats, which plays right into my sad, lonely, SWF profile (haha).Alas my landlord is prick of epic proportions, so– no cat for me. 

    I understand what you mean re: the cycles. I'm certain I've become an insomniac because of them…my mind races… about nothing in particular. A few suicidal thoughts arise, but honestly, I really don't want to commit that sin. I just don't particularly want this state to continue.

    As for the whiskey– I like Bushmills ;).

    Hope to chat in the future 🙂

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