Unreal reality

So much has happened over the last several months. I wish I'd kept up the posting on this blog during it all, but I didn't. Not sure why. So why, after all this time, am I posting now? Because I need to get this stuff out of my head and I have no one to talk to. I'm so alone and isolated. My stepson moved out a few months ago, so the only people I see now are Hubby and my therapist. My world has become a very small box and the longer I stay in it, the smaller it gets and the harder it is to get out of it.

The unreality is starting again. Curiously, this time around I'm not really seeing anything. It normally starts with hallucinations of objects breathing before progressing to the delusions. So far I haven't seen anything of the sort. It's jumped directly to the thoughts. I'm at the point where I know the way I'm thinking isn't right and I know that those thoughts aren't real or true, but they feel true. It feels right in my head. Eventually, if it isn't stopped, I'll progress to where I lose touch with reality. That's so scary. I'll totally believe in the delusions and the paranoia will make me not trust anyone enough to get help.

The paranoia is starting again as well. I started to panic in my therapist's office. The thought "They're gonna get me" just kept circling around and around in my head, going faster each time. She could see that I was starting to get very scared. She asked what I was doing because it looked to her like I was feeding it. I almost started to cry and said I don't know.

I was a little scared to tell her this stuff is starting up again. I almost didn't. I waited until most of the hour had passed, then I finally got the courage up to ask her how you can know something isn't true, but feel it is at the same time. I guess it was my chicken way of letting her know something is amiss. She got this look on her face. I'd definitely gotten her attention with that question.

She asked what I was referring to and after a bit of hesitation, I told her how I know the thought that "this world isn't real" isn't true, but that it makes perfect sense that it isn't real. It's so logical and obvious that it isn't real. Predictably, she asked when my next appointment with my psychiatrist is. It's in 2 weeks. She told me to let the nurses know that I'm getting manic and delusional again.

As she was writing my reminder for my next appointment, I couldn't help myself - I asked her one question. "It's not true, right?" I was needing reassurance that the world is real. She told me no it's not true, but she could see how scary the thought is. It was comforting. She wants to get it under control before I get to the point to where I don't trust anyone and stop telling them what I'm thinking and stop my meds because I think they're poisoned.

She asked if I thought I was becoming manic. I told her yes. I'm barely sleeping and my mind won't slow down. I have so many projects going. When she asked what they were, I couldn't get the words out of my mouth fast enough. I was speaking so fast and telling her so many things that she nodded and agreed that I'm getting manic. I told her that's when I have the thoughts.

When I was driving home from therapy today, I was looking at the world around me and it just felt fake. Like I wasn't a part of it, but separate. And I could sense "Them". I couldn't see Them, but I could feel Them. You know how you can feel when you're being watched? That's how I was feeling on the drive home.

As you can see from the length of this post, I'm definitely more talkative. I get that way when I'm manic. There's just so much in my head that I can't keep it inside. The problem is a lot of what's in my head right now is the ranting ravings of a lunatic who's becoming delusional. *sigh* I always thought that delusional people didn't know they were delusional. I was wrong.

It's 3 am and I'm wide awake. My days and nights are flipped again. I'm starting to think that They're keeping me awake. Messing with my sleep cycle. I'm thinking about calling my therapist and leaving her a message. I'm not sure why. I just feel the need to reach out to her. To tell her what my drive home was like.

Ok, I'm going to stop this entry now. I need to start some laundry.

What a horrible friend I turned out to be

I'm a horrible friend. Someone I know is in a lot of trouble and I can't even bring myself to offer any words of encouragement. I feel so awful. Like I've let him down.

I'm in a bad place right now and I don't have those words of encouragement because I'm thinking the same way he is. I want so bad to reach out to him, I know what he's going through. But I can't bring myself to do it. Why? I'm afraid that I'll just make it worse for him. Maybe he'll think that there really is no hope, because the last time I talked to him I was very up. And now I'm very down.

I know the swings are getting to him. They're getting to me too. I just feel so awful.

Damn winter!

Dammit!! I just watched the weather for my area and tomorrow's forecast is calling for a winter storm. I just don't believe my luck. Why is that winter storms keep hitting the day of or the day before I'm supposed to have an appointment??

Just watch. My CBT on tomorrow, and my individual and psychiatrist appointments on Thursday will all be cancelled. That's how my luck is.

And even if CBT isn't cancelled, I won't get to wear the outfit I picked out to wear. It'll just be too damn cold. I'm gonna have to modify it and it won't look anywhere NEAR as good.

Nothing to do

I'm so hyper right now! I've been this way since my friend called earlier this evening. It's been at least 6 hours that I've been way way up. I just want to dance all night long!

I wanna do more than dance, really, but there's no one to do anything with at 1:30 am. Everyone here is asleep. I'm thinking about going out. Not sure where, but anywhere's better than here. Maybe I'll go to the lake. Or cruise down where I know there's people all of the time.

There's gotta be something to do! We live in a 24/7 society and the night is still early yet! God, I just want to party and have fun all night long. It's been a looooong time since I've been this high and held it continuously for this long.

I've been drinking Blue Margaritas and they're so yummy. They make me want to have even more fun! I'm so bored here. I gotta find something better to do.

A flick of the switch

I was meditating today, trying to calm some of these chaotic feelings. I'm flipping so fast that it's all blurring together. I was doing pretty good at relaxing, and then my stepson started up his crap again.

I was scared. Then I started to shake and cry. Then I screamed as loud as I could.

A friend was sympathizing and worded it perfectly. He said, "It must be so hard knowing you're barely in control of yourself, the fear that must come when someone can just flick you like a switch... it has to be terrible." He's so right.

Now I'm all chaotic again. In the last half hour, I've gone between anxious, panicky, angry, depressed, sad, flirty, and now I'm hyper and playful and mischievous. And I'm feeling very sexual and primal again. Hypersexual.

My inhibitions are going again. Along with my impulse control and judgment.

Can a person's body just short out from emotional overload?? I'm constantly swinging, the moods aren't lasting longer than maybe 10 minutes at best, a few at worst. Then another swing.

I honestly don't know how much more of this I can take. It's too much. I'm in overload.

Primal sensuality

I'm feeling very sensual and sexual tonight. I know that I'm manic, but currently the energy is low-key. I'm mainly wanting to prowl. I want to be with someone. I wanted to be with Hubby tonight, but it never happened.

I'm feeling very primal.

Needy

I need to talk to someone. I feel so alone, even though I'm surrounded by people.

I really don't know what I want to say.

I feel so needy and I hate that. :-(

Is it enough, I wonder?

I'm so tired of everything. I've spent over an hour now searching online for any information on how much is a fatal dose of the meds I have. I'm frustrated as all hell that I can't find any info that tells me anything!

I don't want it to not be enough. I want it done and over.

I'm feeling so very very impulsive right now. I'm sitting here looking at the bottles, all lined up in a neat, pretty row. Is it enough, I wonder? Am I brave enough this time?

I don't have to worry about my parents grieving for me. They're both dead now. The only one I have to worry about is Hubby. But as much as it will hurt him, it's like the surgeon's scalpel - it stings, even as it heals.

Attack of the killer tv

I was almost crushed by a 32 inch tv today. Ok, crushed may be exaggerating a bit, but it did fall on me. :-)

I was setting up a tv in our office today and needed to move it out a bit so I could see where to hook up the cables. Unfortunately, I moved it out a little too far and being front heavy because of the tube, it started to fall off the stand. One of my cats just happened to take off running under it right as it was falling, and as cats tend to do when scared, he froze directly under it.

All I could think was he could be seriously hurt or killed, so I threw my knee over the cat to block the fall of the tv and yelled at the top of my lungs for Hubby.

He came running fast. By then the cat had split, but there I was, supporting a HUGE tv with my knee and it was already starting to get very heavy. Hubby told me to just put the tv down. He didn't have to tell me that, I was already losing my grip. It fell to the floor right on top of our fax machine, which was temporarily on the floor.

Hubby kept asking if I was hurt and I kept asking about the cat. He said the cat was fine and I started shaking and crying. And my knee and wrist were starting to hurt like hell. I fell apart. I have no idea why. I guess because it scared the crap out of me. I was so scared I'd hurt the cat.

It took me a while to unruffle my feathers after that. The cat's still unruffling his feathers, lol. I think I'll be staying away from those killer tv's from now on. You never know when they're going to attack.

I'm back

Ok, it's been way too long since I've posted. I've been neglecting my poor blog. And, of course, anyone who reads this with any regularity.

So what's going on with me, you ask? Hmmm...

Well, I'm stuck at home because where I live got hit with about 3 inches of ice on Friday and I haven't actually been out of the house since Thursday evening. Yikes.

My stepson was driving me crazy with his "I gotta get out" cabin fever, and Hubby was stir-crazy as well. I'm not used to them being here all the time. My routine got broken and I got off kilter.

But they're both at work now, and I couldn't be happier. It's nice and quiet here. I probably won't venture out until tomorrow, though. That's when my CBT is. I don't want to miss any more therapy stuff. Missed too much because of holidays and weather.

I've been pretty frustrated with my individual therapist, though. I've only seen her once in the last 2 months. I'm scheduled to see her every week, but she keeps cancelling for stuff. She's there every week, except for the day I'm scheduled. I'm tempted to have her switch me to a different day so that I'll actually get in to see her one of these days. I see her so rarely, it's like I don't even have an individual therapist anymore.

I was finally going to see her last Friday after a month of not seeing her, but the ice that was supposed to not start until around 4pm started at about 10am. She called to tell me not to go out in the ice and said she'd see me Thursday. I got so frustrated. I know she was looking out for my well being, but I didn't care. I just needed to talk to her.

I think she sensed it, because she asked if I needed to talk on the phone. I really wanted to. Needed to. But unfortunately, Hubby and the stepson were in the room and even if I'd gone into the bedroom, they still would have heard. That won't work for me. I hesitated in my answer, finally saying no. She asked if I wanted to, but couldn't talk right then. I said yes. And that was the end of the call. She said she'd see me for sure on Thursday. I hope she's right.

Like I said, very frustrating.

I'll be doing my best to post more often. I didn't realize until last night how much I missed posting on this blog. It's the only place I can truly say anything. The only thing in my life that comes close to that is talking to my therapists. But I can't even tell them everything. Not the suicidal stuff. Otherwise they'd lock me up every other month. I can tell my friends on SF, but I fear driving them away. At least my therapists are paid to listen. They're not going anywhere if they want their money. :)

Happy New Year? Yeah, right...

I was so drunk tonight. You know, I don't normally drink. I rarely have more than 1 drink a year and that's usually on New Year's Eve. If I were to try to guess how many I had tonight, I'd say at least 10-15.

I was hoping the alcohol would loosen up my control so I could act easier on my desires. It would have worked, but I was never alone so that I could act. I didn't take Hubby staying up late into account. I don't know why.

For the first few hours I laughed a lot. Now I just feel hopeless. I was waiting for Hubby to go to bed so I could cut and take pills. But he stayed up late tonight. He only fell asleep about 10 minutes ago.

The alcohol is wearing off and now I'm just nauseous. I really don't think I want to pour alcohol on top of nausea right now. I'd end up throwing up for sure. Unfortunately, since it's wearing off, I'm too scared to act now. DAMN IT! I had it all planned! Hubby never stays up late enough to do more than kiss me at midnight on New Year's and he picked this year of all years to wait until 1:45am before going to bed.

Great. I'm gonna have the hangover from hell tomorrow and I didn't even get anything out of it. This just sucks.

I swear, if I thought it would work I'd take all my pills. I have more than enough to kill me. But I know it won't work, I'll just get sick as a dog, then I have to suffer through the guilt and shame of yet another failed attempt.

I don't know why I can't die. Ironic, isn't it? An extremely suicidal person who can't die. That's just fucked up.

I'm just going to go to bed, otherwise I'll start cutting and I don't want to explain that later to Hubby. My shrink doesn't really care much, I don't think, whether I cut or not. Hell, I think he's just tired of me being his patient. I don't blame him. I'd be tired of a patient like me, too.