I'm not saying I'm sorry
A month ago I overdosed. I took all of my meds, every single pill in 5 different bottles. Then I took myself out to dinner, came home, and passed out for 15 hours, and proceeded to puke every time I moved for 36 hours. I was out of my head, saying things that made no sense, slurring my words, yelling inanely at my mother for no reason. It was a miserable weekend. Mom thought about taking me to the hospital but didn't. And when I finally admitted what I had done, the episode had passed and I deeply regretted what I did. I didn't tell my doctors about it until last week when I threw up blood and had liver pains and went to the ER to get checked out. They did a battery of tests and left me with a diagnosis of gastritis and some acid blockers. Now I've lost my job and I have four days left in my medication. I have new prescriptions for them, but can't afford them. Even with my insurance, which expires on 30 April. I'm scared of losing control, losing sight of my grounding and my skills. I'm mostly scared that the mania will come back, and I won't have the money or the insurance if I need to go to the hospital.
I keep thinking back to that conversation Ma and I had where we admitted to each other that we'd been abused. I don't know what happened exactly when she was young, but I know she's been raped, and I hate the man that did it. He was the husband of one of Ma's best friends. I hate him. He's a disgusting, crack addict pig. Mom talks like it doesn't bother her that much. She talks of "moving on" and "not letting it drag her down". Like she never let it fucking touch her. I don't know how she does it. Did it. It took me years to even be able to talk.Telling her was the biggest step I've ever taken.
I feel like that overdose was a betrayal. And I've kept it secret for four weeks, no one but my doctors and Mom and Tom knew about it until now. I feel like acting out like that, just giving up, is the biggest betrayal of everyone I love, and a big failure on my part. And I feel stupid, because I've overdose before and I just don't seem to get it through my thick skull that pills don't work. At least, not the pills I have. I never have the good stuff. I can't get it through my thick skull that opting out is not the answer. I keep trying to reach oblivion. Beautiful, sweet, oblivion. I feel like I stick out like bright, loud, effervescent pink and everybody knows exactly what I'm thinking, only, I have no real direction. I lack grounding. If I'm blunt fucking honest, I haven't been right since Dan died. I was 20 years old and that naive sense that I could do anything. I felt powerful. I had my mood swings, but they weren't anything I couldn't suppress.
I feel so awkward around all of my friends. I feel like everybody else has everything figured out, and I'm just stagnating at 27 years old. I can't get out of my parents' house for the life of me. I never have anything new and exciting to talk about. Maybe I've designed it that way. I'm so afraid of new things. I'm afraid of any deviation in my schedule for fear of inciting an episode. I am working on going to school in the Fall. That's new.
Enough of this. I can't get down on myself. Must keep pressing on. I can make it. Just a little further.
Edit: I'm going down to Olive Garden tomorrow afternoon, after the lunch rush and before dinner. I'm going to put in an application there, and at Long Horn Steak House, though I'd rather have Olive Garden. It'll be goood to be working somewhere again, to be moving my feet. It'll be good to be in a restaurant again, after 6 years. If that doesnt work, I might try Hathaway's again, but that's all the way down in CInnaminson, and I don't relish that drive but they were good to me and if I need something, I bet I could get in there. I just need something that'll pay me more than minimum wage and at a big restaurant like Olive Garden I'll be damned if I walk out of there with under $70-$100 each night. I just need something to keep my feet moving. Plus it'll be good for weightloss. I'm restricting my calories down to 800 a day for a little while, see if that doesn't kick start things. I've been negligent the last two weeks or so, haven't gained any weight but haven't lost any either. It's time to get moving.
I keep thinking back to that conversation Ma and I had where we admitted to each other that we'd been abused. I don't know what happened exactly when she was young, but I know she's been raped, and I hate the man that did it. He was the husband of one of Ma's best friends. I hate him. He's a disgusting, crack addict pig. Mom talks like it doesn't bother her that much. She talks of "moving on" and "not letting it drag her down". Like she never let it fucking touch her. I don't know how she does it. Did it. It took me years to even be able to talk.Telling her was the biggest step I've ever taken.
I feel like that overdose was a betrayal. And I've kept it secret for four weeks, no one but my doctors and Mom and Tom knew about it until now. I feel like acting out like that, just giving up, is the biggest betrayal of everyone I love, and a big failure on my part. And I feel stupid, because I've overdose before and I just don't seem to get it through my thick skull that pills don't work. At least, not the pills I have. I never have the good stuff. I can't get it through my thick skull that opting out is not the answer. I keep trying to reach oblivion. Beautiful, sweet, oblivion. I feel like I stick out like bright, loud, effervescent pink and everybody knows exactly what I'm thinking, only, I have no real direction. I lack grounding. If I'm blunt fucking honest, I haven't been right since Dan died. I was 20 years old and that naive sense that I could do anything. I felt powerful. I had my mood swings, but they weren't anything I couldn't suppress.
I feel so awkward around all of my friends. I feel like everybody else has everything figured out, and I'm just stagnating at 27 years old. I can't get out of my parents' house for the life of me. I never have anything new and exciting to talk about. Maybe I've designed it that way. I'm so afraid of new things. I'm afraid of any deviation in my schedule for fear of inciting an episode. I am working on going to school in the Fall. That's new.
Enough of this. I can't get down on myself. Must keep pressing on. I can make it. Just a little further.
Edit: I'm going down to Olive Garden tomorrow afternoon, after the lunch rush and before dinner. I'm going to put in an application there, and at Long Horn Steak House, though I'd rather have Olive Garden. It'll be goood to be working somewhere again, to be moving my feet. It'll be good to be in a restaurant again, after 6 years. If that doesnt work, I might try Hathaway's again, but that's all the way down in CInnaminson, and I don't relish that drive but they were good to me and if I need something, I bet I could get in there. I just need something that'll pay me more than minimum wage and at a big restaurant like Olive Garden I'll be damned if I walk out of there with under $70-$100 each night. I just need something to keep my feet moving. Plus it'll be good for weightloss. I'm restricting my calories down to 800 a day for a little while, see if that doesn't kick start things. I've been negligent the last two weeks or so, haven't gained any weight but haven't lost any either. It's time to get moving.