Birthday and Accidents

I'm safe after not sleeping again the other night. Thats twice last week I didnt sleep. Really looking forward to seeing the doctor and hopefully getting a new med to try to help me with sleeping. The second day without sleep wasn't as depressing as the first 'Electric' day went. I had Adderol so that kept me functioning on auto pilot for the most part. A lot of thinking and talking openly with others where I may not otherwise. A lot of questions were asked. I read alot.

A lot of mental health blogs and suicide survivor stories. Live Through This is a great project. I'm still going through the stories myself. It's been edited to not be so triggering but I'd tread carefully if you are easily triggered. I'm not, so I read without caution. Also came across a 'game' called Depression Quest that is like a choose your own ending story where you are living the life of a depressed individual. I got a little bored so I stopped but Ill revisit just because Id like to see how it ends.

I also got into an accident with my car twice this week. First while sending an email in the car, I rear ended the lady in front of me. Bound to happen, I know. Lesson learned. No email while driving.
Second, I go to reverse in the driveway and drive right into my dad's car leaving a nice long streak of white paint down the side of his car. I thought I had gotten off lucky with the first accident cause I had no damage, but I guess it was just meant to be since I really fucked it the second go round.

I guess what should have been most important this week was my birthday. October 10th. 29. I guess I mostly feel accomplished on birthdays as I get older. Since I've been young, I've always thought Id die an early death. Not necessarily by my own hands, but Id die in some way. Hasn't happen yet, so I feel proud. Strong that I haven't let the darkness win. Like a fighter.
These are feelings of a good day I guess.
There's also those days when its just enough. On those days I say ' Ive had enough' out loud quite often. To myself and to others. Those days Im done. Fighting is just old news and all I can focus on is the how long everything seems. To fight FOREVER. Every day until I die. Just fighting. It feels like so much. Like so much work for so little pay off. I'd like to know if all my fighting will be worth it in the end. Yet I cant know the answer to that unless I make it to the end.
I get frustrated.
I'm safe now. My meds seem to have me regulated. I don't feel depressed most days. Though I do feel it is still with me, like a scum I can't quite wash off. It kisses everything around me and within me. Like all experiences and feelings go through this slick of depression first. Nothing is shiny and new, its all been tainted.
I dont not enjoy things. Double negative. But i cant say I completely do enjoy things either.
It's an overwhelmingly boring in between.
When Im depressed, theres so much more going on. Emotions are flared, I feel things deeper.
Now, in this state, things are just meh. Boring.

That's why I take the Adderol usually. It makes me interested again. I can read a book and not feel like its a chore. I want to participate in life and experience the things. But mostly I want to be alone and read. Not isolating necessarily, but enjoying the constructive alone time. I savor the moments I feel truly alive. Drug induced or not.

I listen to this often. Never got into the Velvet Underground or Nico, but I relax during this song.

Electric

First blogging experience so I'm sure this will come out fucked in some way.

Here we go...

I didn't sleep one night last week. Recipe for disaster. Not long after the sun rises and Danny has left for work, leaving me naked in the bed alone. I start to feel it. Inside, out on my skin. ELECTRIC! I can feel lightning in every nerve of my body. I am truly alive. And the lightning is painful. Every soft touch sends electric storms running through me. I have hit the roadblock. From this moment on, until I finally sleep, things are going to go badly. 

Hey, I can handle this. Been here before. Hell, I've missed sleep for three days before (we'll save the details on those days for later). Why can't I make it through this day?

Hey man, if it were that easy I'd never sleep. I feel alive at 4 in the morning. Alone. My thoughts to cuddle with. But fuck, TODAY and this ELECTRIC thrum ravaging me. I know I've got a day ahead of me. I walk to get something to drink. I've got that late-night no sleep dry throat thing going.

EVERY STEP VIBRATES MY LIMBS. DOWN TOMY CORE. Get a drink. Fuck it, I'm not leaving this bed today. Here I am safe. Here I can maintain control over whatever may happen. 

But I know it already. I know my body. I know what these sensations mean.

I'm going to be sick. Headsick.

Sick in the head.

However you wanna spell it out. No sleep equals a ride on the crazy train. Show clowns and all.

I start off strong. I've got a fort made in my bed. I'm planning out emergency procedures in case things get really real and I go dark.

This is so easy. One night. That's all it took to get me here. Fucking Trazadone. It ain't worth a shit. Hell, I'd eat the whole bottle if it'd put me to sleep. I fantasize going out like that. 'Kayla wanted so badly to sleep she ate a bottle of pills. Well, she sleeps forever now.' 

Law and Order SVU. Yeah, I'm unstable right now. Vulnerable as all get out. Its a thin line between being uncomfortable and spilling blood. Thin. In spite of this, rather than be smart and watch a comedy (Adam Sandler or some shit) I'm going to watch this messed up show which focuses on all things that make me anxious. Rapists in your bedroom? Sure! Mother who fries her son's hand in kitchen grease? Sure! This is oh so therapeutic. 

But I . just. can't. help. it.

I feed off the darkness. I'm comfortable with the unsettling things. 

Makes me feel like I'm sitting in my own head. Maybe inside my head is worse. I could write something truly horrific for Olivia Benson, Detective Munch and my man Ice T to deal with.

Time goes by. I've already convinced myself that if I fall asleep now, in the daytime, come tonight I won't be able to sleep again. Makes sense.

But I can't help wondering....not trusting myself..do I want to stay up just to see where this goes? Do I want to be sick? 

It's been awhile, things have been okay, do I miss my sick self? Am I sabotaging my 'recovery', my ability to live somewhat on the side of stable...just for my own entertainment's sake?I'm my own clown. Watch as I fall. Take notes on how it goes so I can belittle myself later.

This is all getting to be a bit much over just a little lost sleep.

This shit is real. This is huge to me. It feels as if this is the great battle of my life- making it through this day. 

Isn't that what they teach you at the hospital? In therapy? 

Fuck what are they called. Things that make you vulnerable. Warning signs.

They always say SLEEP. Get enough sleep and stay sane.

Fuck.I should've tried harder to sleep.

My day moved about as fast as this post.

Not very.

Mom's in the living room. This is why i miss living alone. Here I am, wrapped up in my selfish,self-centered, self-loathing bubble and I've got to step outside this. This which is in a way comforting to me. These feelings are recognizable. I understand my brain better when its all fucked.

But I still love. And I know mom will be worried about me. Can't let her see me breaking. Can't afford to worry my go-to

reason for living.

(It is: my mom. Her life has kept me engaged in my own. But oh! The freedom

 to let it all take over once she's dead.)

I'll go try and eat something and sit with her. 

I do just that. Lo and behold! she just happens to be watching a movie which so convienently happens to be at probably the most triggering scene for me.

Cut to awkward feeling when drunk dad makes a speech. Cut to suicide.

My tears are in my throat now. Soggy bread.

I'm outta there. Lightning quick.

She knows I'm not doing well now. Great.

I return to the darkness. The safety. Law and Order SVU. Body full of electric pulsing that just won't go away. DO OTHER PEOPLE FEELTHIS?Is this just a symptom I have when my mental health is being put on trial?Its surreal. It doesn't make sense to me. Am I feeling this pulsing? This tingling? 

I'd love to know others feel it too. 

I spend the day with a pact to be strong. Be the strongest little sad girl that ever lived. AM I NOT A BADASS? Now is time to be that badass. But man its hard. Every fucking thing is making me cry. I'm thinking the most fucked up things I can to feel myself cry. Or rather, to feel how strong I feel when I don't cry. Let's play a game. Try anything to make me cry. I get points for facing the dark sick Kayla. 

I only sob once. Into a pillow.

That's when I break down and text Danny. I need help now. All games aside, this is starting to get bleak and if I've learned one thing its to be sensible enough to pull my head out of my sick ass and ASK FOR HELP.

I am making so many social workers proud right now. Look at me! Reaching out!

Of course then Im all guilt. 'Look what you do to other people with your sickness'. 'You married this poor man and now he has to take care of your sorry ass.' This is all stuff for later.

I eventually slept. On a borrowed Seroquel.

First blog entry. MAN I feel good now that all that stuff isn't sitting in my head anymore. Don't know if I'll tell Danny or my therapist I started a blog. Maybe I'll share. 

This entry is all to relevant and important for me to look over right now.

It's 4:58AM. and I haven't slept.

To be continued...