As it turns out... fuck it let's let the world see me for the beast and boy I really am
Dear Ben,
i don't think i am as crazy as some people make me out to be on a pretty fucking regular basis. I do not think I am the cause of all the tears I frequently take the blame for. I do not think any or all of my sadness and anger isn't completely justified by circumstance and people and lack there of.
I know why I am so sad. I know why I am so angry. I know why I am so lost.
Truth be told... these days I have almost no desire to do drugs at all... even if they were more easily attainable etc... I am seriously lacking in the drive to partake. I don 't like most the people I know when they are on drugs. I don't think most people like me when I am on drugs. This is normal.
Though if all parties are on drugs... it's usually happy go lucky, esp. if they are the right drugs.
I woke up pretty early today to some AIM messages letting me know the people leaving them were on drugs. That's sooper dooper. The best part about this is that these same persons in question are the ones urging me most to get on the psych meds I've been prescribed...
Keep in mind, going on these meds means I can not drink any booze nor ingest any substances of that sort. It means a completely sober life. Can I do this? Let us assume I feel better on these psych-meds... aka mood-crack... will I still feel compelled to remain sober?
This will entail me growing up... and not spending time with, well pretty much everyone I know. Because pretty much everyone I know drinks, does drugs, et al... and makes these activities a frequent part of their free time activities.
It doesn't matter. It never did. I also hear the same argument against me going on the psych-meds... it's all just drugs... trading one for another... I also know, when I was on them before... I was reserved, silent, miserable, zombie like... I was the walking dead... they stabilized my mood by taking it away and along with it any personality or natural smiles I may have had otherwise.
The professionals, these psychiatrists... do not seem very professional nor worthy of being called educated. I saw the most recent one for maybe 30 minutes and when I came in he said he hadn't even reviewed my chart... which he'd had an extra 2 weeks to do. After 30 minutes of rapid fire questions and not listening to me so much at all... he gives me a box of Lamictal
Does this make sense? Maybe all I need is some stability and the like? Maybe I don't need drugged out hypocrites touting me as being emotionally abusive and a problem... maybe I am as horrible as I feel. Maybe it is all me... maybe... it doesn't matter.
How are their words supposed to matter if my own do not? Or if theirs directed at themselves seem as fleeting as my good moods?
My neck hurts. I had some sort of intimate encounter with a complete stranger last night. I don't even think they know my name nor I theirs. That happens... or so I am told. That was a first for me.
I hate sleeping alone. I hate waking up alone. Saturday was kinda fun... until the end... until before I passed out and woke up completely alone in my strange Balboa Inn Suite... I feel like crying all the time.
I think sometimes my annoyance or anger is fully justified and normal... like when someone comes up to you obviously stoned and tells you their drug story briefly... and other things and is getting picked up by someone who you want to punch in the face...considering also you told them that you abhorred being around them when they're on drugs and hated even more how it was only then that they smiled at you and were affectionate and pleasant with you.
I've got a lot going on in my head.
I am fucking lost. I know what the right answers are.
I want to choose the wrong ones for an impossible dream... to ensure my own demise.
But what about the drugs? The psych meds? What to do? Because I don't know. I am scared.
I am a baby. I am a little boy who is expected to be a man. I'm scared and I want my dreams, at least some of them to come true... I am a dreamer.
"i can go to the land of make believe and i can pretend but in the end i still have no friends...
Space Boy
i don't think i am as crazy as some people make me out to be on a pretty fucking regular basis. I do not think I am the cause of all the tears I frequently take the blame for. I do not think any or all of my sadness and anger isn't completely justified by circumstance and people and lack there of.
I know why I am so sad. I know why I am so angry. I know why I am so lost.
Truth be told... these days I have almost no desire to do drugs at all... even if they were more easily attainable etc... I am seriously lacking in the drive to partake. I don 't like most the people I know when they are on drugs. I don't think most people like me when I am on drugs. This is normal.
Though if all parties are on drugs... it's usually happy go lucky, esp. if they are the right drugs.
I woke up pretty early today to some AIM messages letting me know the people leaving them were on drugs. That's sooper dooper. The best part about this is that these same persons in question are the ones urging me most to get on the psych meds I've been prescribed...
Keep in mind, going on these meds means I can not drink any booze nor ingest any substances of that sort. It means a completely sober life. Can I do this? Let us assume I feel better on these psych-meds... aka mood-crack... will I still feel compelled to remain sober?
This will entail me growing up... and not spending time with, well pretty much everyone I know. Because pretty much everyone I know drinks, does drugs, et al... and makes these activities a frequent part of their free time activities.
It doesn't matter. It never did. I also hear the same argument against me going on the psych-meds... it's all just drugs... trading one for another... I also know, when I was on them before... I was reserved, silent, miserable, zombie like... I was the walking dead... they stabilized my mood by taking it away and along with it any personality or natural smiles I may have had otherwise.
The professionals, these psychiatrists... do not seem very professional nor worthy of being called educated. I saw the most recent one for maybe 30 minutes and when I came in he said he hadn't even reviewed my chart... which he'd had an extra 2 weeks to do. After 30 minutes of rapid fire questions and not listening to me so much at all... he gives me a box of Lamictal
Does this make sense? Maybe all I need is some stability and the like? Maybe I don't need drugged out hypocrites touting me as being emotionally abusive and a problem... maybe I am as horrible as I feel. Maybe it is all me... maybe... it doesn't matter.
How are their words supposed to matter if my own do not? Or if theirs directed at themselves seem as fleeting as my good moods?
My neck hurts. I had some sort of intimate encounter with a complete stranger last night. I don't even think they know my name nor I theirs. That happens... or so I am told. That was a first for me.
I hate sleeping alone. I hate waking up alone. Saturday was kinda fun... until the end... until before I passed out and woke up completely alone in my strange Balboa Inn Suite... I feel like crying all the time.
I think sometimes my annoyance or anger is fully justified and normal... like when someone comes up to you obviously stoned and tells you their drug story briefly... and other things and is getting picked up by someone who you want to punch in the face...considering also you told them that you abhorred being around them when they're on drugs and hated even more how it was only then that they smiled at you and were affectionate and pleasant with you.
I've got a lot going on in my head.
I am fucking lost. I know what the right answers are.
I want to choose the wrong ones for an impossible dream... to ensure my own demise.
But what about the drugs? The psych meds? What to do? Because I don't know. I am scared.
I am a baby. I am a little boy who is expected to be a man. I'm scared and I want my dreams, at least some of them to come true... I am a dreamer.
"i can go to the land of make believe and i can pretend but in the end i still have no friends...
Space Boy