"I don’t wanna fight
I don’t care who’s right
I blame it all on your faults. (I know it ain’t cause of mine.)"
My insides feel all twisted up, and my mind is moving faster than a fucking music video changes frames. My [email protected] brain races and jumps around, and it is so damn unsettling. I know the compulsive drug use is part of this. I know that. I don’t actually want to get high. These thoughts, and these feelings… all these excuses and rationalizations… my mind is cranking up a storm of BS, right now. (A writer can generate some colorful, and otherwise interesting bull sh*t, by the way.) It’s because of the BPD. That’s the voice in my head that’s playing worse case scenarios with everythI know a lot of things are – how different am I gonna be after I take these mood stabilizers? I don’t know, and they freak me out on a number of levels, but I recognize the need. Feeling attacked by my own thoughts… images of horrific shit that’s happened, or just cycling sound bytes and sequences of me, fucking up in some way, or otherwise making a [email protected] ass of myself.
"I got by somehow
Somehow, I got by
But, underneathe the surface, I’m breaking down inside."
I know the BPD makes me hypersexual, and that it makes me want to get high, and do other things that don’t make sense. Today, I was walking, and thinking about it all – about how Charlie looks away when he notices me twitch or flinch. He knows it’s probably not physical (sometimes we both twitch from muscle spasms – withdrawal sh*t). He knows it happens when I feel slapped upside the head by some unsettling or embarassing memory, and he looks away. I even asked him why, once, and he just said he didn’t know. I thought about a lot of things, but concluded nothing, as usual. I am not clear-headed enough to conclude anything, yet. I am still so far behind it all, trying to catch up. It’s like I just stumbled out of a very long sleep, and now, even when I am manic, I am still bleary-eyed, and unsure what to do.
"And, I hate the thought
Of what you are, I’m not.
But I’ll do my best to pass your test,
If you’re sure I’m what you want.
But, don’t you lie.
Don’t you even try.
If I catch you there, in despair,
I swear I’m leaving you behind."
I think about buying a set of knives while I am in a store, and then realize that I am actually buying knives so I’ll have something sharp enough to really slice myself up with. (Didn’t buy them.) I start doing things without even knowing why, sometimes, but sometimes I can out-think myself. How much of me, and what I do, is me being sick? I know when I was strung out, I worried about what was left of me, under all of that. About what was left of my relationship, too, but more so, about what was left of me… but, I figured it had to be better than the way I was. I couldn’t stand myself. And, the situation was unsustainable. Totally unsustainable…
"I’m gonna walk right up and take my shot.
I’m gonna walk right up and take my shot.
But if I get it right, will you turn?
Bu, if I get it right, will you turn?"
Talked to Ace. He always calms me down. Charlie’s gonna be out really late. I am gonna be alone until 3-3:30am, and that makes me uneasy. Rationally, I know I am going to be fine, but I am not totally rational at the moment.
Thought about signing up for guitar lessons while I was out, today, but I held off – pending a conversation with fate, and a further search for free lessons on-line. As my attention span recovers, I think I am more and more able to take up such things. I really need to take care of some sh*t.
"And, I’ve had enough of your acting tough
Wanna be a man? Then, understand,
It’s better with my love.
But, don’t you lie.
Don’t you even try.
If I catch you there, in despair, I swear I’m leaving you behind.
I’m gonna walk right up, and take my shot."
There are things to be done, so I should get underway. I am supposed to see Jordan soon (to hang out), and I’ve done very little that I need to do. Once the hanging out starts… that kind of sets the tone, haha.
I plan to work on some gifts for friends before bed. One that I’ve been working on for a while is almost done – Lady Bob, give me the new addy and I will send your worry dolls.
If you are on my friend’s list, or regularly read my blog, but we do not correspond, you may be hearing from me soon. I am really want to make an effort to reach out to all of you who’ve been so supportive of me during this difficult time. I am here for all of you, whenever you need me. Feel free to vent in my general direction via a private message or whatever. I think you guys are the greatest, and with the whole kicking smack thing, I haven’t been able to show all of you the gratitude that I would like, or to get to know some of you as well as I would like, but I am certainly eager to return the kindness that was shown to me (by being there for you guys), and I am looking forward to learning more about all of you. I’ve just been too tangled up in my own sh*t, to give you the proper attention, but I will start responding and dropping in on people very soon – it’s a personal project.
I need to make lists so I get sh*t done. I need a [email protected] coach, haha. Not one of those obnoxious life-coaches… scratch that idea, haha…
I think I’d rather die.
Anyway, I was rescued from the abyss. I have a cheering section, and someone guiding me through this, and I will shortly have the full span of medical intervention (the addiction side, and the BPD bit will both be addressed as of next week). I need to write down all the questions that I want to ask the shrink next week. So afraid of that sh*t… I don’t want to lose myself. Even if I don’t like myself, I have a basic sense of preservation. I don’t want the person I am now to dissipate in the new chemical mix. I don’t want to turn into something different – someone different. I know, I’ve been told that won’t happen, but I’ve also seen a lot of stuff go wrong with psych meds. My mom, my sister, and one of our good friends, growing up, all had really bad experiences with psych drugs – side effects, and whatnot… I worry about all the terrible side effects attributed to mood stabilizers. That bad rash that’s more like a bad burn… the weight gain… I can’t take something that will make me gain weight. I know it sounds silly to some of you, but it will trigger up my anorexia. It’ll be like it was only yesterday that I was 118 lbs and completely irrational (about the fact that I was way too thin for my size – I am 5’8 with a pretty athletic build, so, at 118 lbs, I look like a [email protected] refugee – nowadays I find other things to be irrational about. But if I gained a bunch of weight, all at once… who knows? I could flip like a [email protected] dolphin.).
"Gonna walk right up, and take my shot…"
Wow, this is long. Too long… sorry… this is apparently my manic dumping ground… haha… my apologies if you actually read the whole thing. I don’t think there was any real point I was leading up to. No… wait… okay, now, I’m sure of it.
I have no point.
"But if I get it right, will you turn?
But if I get it right, will you turn
Around and face what you’ve become?
Around and face what you’ve become…"
(Lying In States, "Turn")