this night sucks
Everybody's asleep. And I'm still awake (probably because my morning meds keep me knocked out until around 1PM).
And I'm hearing things.
Really quiet, I can just make it out. Like someone watching TV in the next room. The TV is off. I even went outside to see if one of the neighbors had the volume cranked, but nothing. I've got the white noise machine on full blast, but I can still hear it. Over it. Under it. I've stuck cotton in my ears, but I can still hear it. I can't wake Mom up, because I kept her up til 3AM last night with a similar freakout.
RANT: I'm paying so much for these fucking medications only so I can look like a drunkard (slack-jawed, speech slurred, walking into things) until mid afternoon. So then I have maybe 4 good hours before everybody goes to bed, and I'm stuck hearing voices, music, my cell phone ringing. If the only way they can keep me "sane" is to drug me up, I say fuck it. Let me have grand delusions and deep-dark depression, because at least that kind of shit builds character. I don't ever want to have to explain to my neice again why I'm talking so funny. I don't want to wake up and discover I fell out of bed. I don't want to bend my glasses by running headfirst into a door frame.
FYI: Me and Justin's four year anniversary is Thursday. I made him an "I love you" mix tape(CD) because I'm too poor to buy him something nice. We're going to the Dredg show in Charlotte Thursday night. I hope I don't freak. Normally it takes a couple beers to get me to enjoy loud, smokey places, but about eight of my medications come with the "Do not take with alcohol" sticker.
And also, bipolar sucks ass. 1 out of 6 bipolars kill themselves. Not attempt, but actually succeed in killing themselves. The fact that I've attempted once doubles my chances. I'd have better odds with some kinds of cancer.
That's about all the filth I can spew forth tonight. Good night, kiddies.
And I'm hearing things.
Really quiet, I can just make it out. Like someone watching TV in the next room. The TV is off. I even went outside to see if one of the neighbors had the volume cranked, but nothing. I've got the white noise machine on full blast, but I can still hear it. Over it. Under it. I've stuck cotton in my ears, but I can still hear it. I can't wake Mom up, because I kept her up til 3AM last night with a similar freakout.
RANT: I'm paying so much for these fucking medications only so I can look like a drunkard (slack-jawed, speech slurred, walking into things) until mid afternoon. So then I have maybe 4 good hours before everybody goes to bed, and I'm stuck hearing voices, music, my cell phone ringing. If the only way they can keep me "sane" is to drug me up, I say fuck it. Let me have grand delusions and deep-dark depression, because at least that kind of shit builds character. I don't ever want to have to explain to my neice again why I'm talking so funny. I don't want to wake up and discover I fell out of bed. I don't want to bend my glasses by running headfirst into a door frame.
FYI: Me and Justin's four year anniversary is Thursday. I made him an "I love you" mix tape(CD) because I'm too poor to buy him something nice. We're going to the Dredg show in Charlotte Thursday night. I hope I don't freak. Normally it takes a couple beers to get me to enjoy loud, smokey places, but about eight of my medications come with the "Do not take with alcohol" sticker.
And also, bipolar sucks ass. 1 out of 6 bipolars kill themselves. Not attempt, but actually succeed in killing themselves. The fact that I've attempted once doubles my chances. I'd have better odds with some kinds of cancer.
That's about all the filth I can spew forth tonight. Good night, kiddies.