I truly feel awful. I can’t explain it, and in fact I don’t want to explain it, I just want the feeling to go away. It’s part anxiety, part depression, and part something else I can’t describe. I just want to have our normal life back! Why is that so much to ask for? Everyone else seems to be doing just fine, why is it just me who is miserable? Why is it just me that sees the sun as looking so terrible in the sky? Why is it just me who sees the dark shadows? My husband will be home in an hour. I don’t even know what I had planned on writing about in here, I just know that it all went out the window because of this terrible feeling that’s overcome me all of a sudden. Well, it’s not totally all of a sudden, I’ve been getting it off and on. But right now it’s on. I’m trying so hard to be ok! I need to be ok until he gets home! I need to be ok until he gets here! Everything is just hallucinations and delusions. My sweet husband told me not to forget that I have an illness, and that I always overcome.

One day not long ago when we were out on a hike, I said, “I’ve never been more scared in all my life.” He said, “You say that every time.” And I replied, “That’s because it’s always true.” Then he said, “So that must mean your braveness increases every time because you always get through it.” I appreciated that perspective so much, I hadn’t thought of it that way. How I wish this hour would fly by and he wouild be here in my arms. I live for the weekends; that’s when we get to spend two whole days together, and I feel safe. Well, I mostly feel safe, as safe as I can feel all considering. I thought I heard the gate, but I guess it wasn’t him. Part of me wants another Earl Grey, but I don’t want to push it with the caffeine. My friend Allie’s favorite tea is Earl Grey. That’s all she ever orders when we’re ordering tea. She lives in Uganda now, and is married to her dear love V. I don’t remember what his real name is. How I wish my husband would come home now! I know he will be home soon, in about an hour, but this last part of the wait is always the hardest.

I am so tired of feeling like crap all the time, and I’m so tired of hearing the bad voice. My therapist suggested I ask the bad voice what his name is, so I did. His name is Daniel. But I feel like giving him a name is giving him too much power. So unless I’m talking to my therapist, I’ll still refer to him as the bad voice. I really had started to feel better on the Ativan, but it’s been two weeks and it’s not working as well anymore. I’m trying to remember all those years ago when I was on Restoril and Ativan both, one for sleep and the other for anxiety. Did I take it every day? I don’t remember. I have already taken three Ativan today, and I think it’s working to some degree, I mean, I was able to go check the mail, bring in my Thrive box, put it all away, and make dinner. I need to lie down again. He will be here soon, I just have to wait. Peace.