i am so angry i could just spit.

i dont know why i am angry, i just am. i have been very agitated lately and it is turning me into a beast. i read my post below this which is about a week old and i am like "who the fuck is that little whimpy whining bitch?" my hands are shaking. i told my husband that i wanted to hurt someone or something so badly that i can taste it. these mood swings are driving me crazy again. i cant stand them anymore. i fucked up at work again (see other blog cause im not getting into it over here) and i truly dont give a rats ass right now. i want to tell people i am sick. i am not well. i have excuses and reasons up the ass. truly i do. but i dont bother with them because i am not the "oh help me i am drowning" kind of person...except when i am alone in this blog. i am considering getting a really large tattoo today because i know it would hurt. I want it to hurt. i want that kind of pain so badly right now. a needle driving into my flesh, boring it open and inserting permanent ink that will rot there forever more. i already have one that is on my ass. sometimes a iregret it and sometimes i dont. it was a change of life tattoo. i turned 30. i pierced some stuff and got a tattoo as well. big deal. now i just want the pain. i told my husband that i want to grab a fistful of someones hair and pull it out of their head. i want to damange something but preferably someone. i am shaking while i write this because i am livid. my husband says "you're not bad...you're not broken" but i couldn't disagree with him more. i feel like i am broken. i feel like i have no sense of purpose any longer. i want to hurt physically. i do. i want there to be such excrutiating pain that i cant think of anything else. i dont want to kill myself because that just ends the drama that i so thrive on. besides, i like life sometimes. enough to stick around to see how it all turns out at least. ive got great kids. they are my life. ihave a grandchild coming in october/november. i have to be here for that. and my husband...my lifeline.

i just feel like junkmail. it supposed to serve a purpose but all it ends up is an annoyance that you just throw away.

god, who was that girl in that last post. pathetic. i wish she was here so i could slit her throat.

i dont know what to do with myself anymore.

the depression isnt lifting this time. i am fucking up at work royally. last night i was so sick. i know it was from the depression. i fell asleep at work last night. i laid down for about a half hour in my car. today the assistant director of nursing told me she wanted to see me about "last night's incident". i dont know if i am getting fired or not. they are letting me work my shift tonight so i dont think that makes any sense. i mean, if i were getting let go, why would they let me work tonight? i hope i am just going to get written up or suspended for a few days. i dont know anymore.

i need him here right now. i do. he is the only thing that holds me together when i am like this. he's in arizona...a gazillion miles away from me. i cant manage life anymore. i feel like i am in a hole that i cant dig myself out of. i dont know how to make it better. i am acutely aware of what is going on with me. that makes matters worse. when i didn't know why or what, it was better. now i know that i am so depressed for reasons unknown to me...but i am aware of it. the medications are failing me. there is no where else for me to go with them. i am already maxxed out on the things i can take. i dont know what else to do. i used to be able to function, when i was manic. now i cant function. i cant hold a job. i cant do anything right anymore. i am trying so hard and all i keep doing is fucking up royally. even as i write this, i feel like a damn failure at life. i miss being able to be wonder woman, even at the cost of dark depressions. i miss the mania so much. i know i got sick last night because of medication withdrawal. i havent taken my meds because i just dont care to use them anymore. this morning i took them. i dont know that they are going to help me anymore. i need help. i want help. i dont want to lose my job over this...but i have a feeling that is what is going to happen.

i feel desperate right now. like i have nothing to hold onto. i feel like i cant breathe anymore. i have no energy. i am completely listless. there is something so wrong with me. i sabotage everything that is good in my life. the only thing i havent fucked up yet is my marriage, but i am certain that that will end up failing me as well. there is only so much my husband is going to take before he realizes that i am a hopeless case. hes the best thing that ever happened to me and somehow, i always manage to make those things go away. i am so frustrated with myself. i want to go into work tonight and be super nurse, but i dont feel like i have it in me. i just dont know what to do anymore. i need saving in the worst way but i have nothing to believe in right now. nothing. i lay in bed all day long. i cant bring myself to do the simplest things. i dont cry because i dont feel anything. i want to cry. i want to have a long hard cry and get all of this out of my system, but i dont know what to cry for.

its so hard being like this. i want to believe in myself and do the right things...but it all seems like too much of a challenge. too much work to live but i dont want to die either. somedays i wish i could just stop breathing in my sleep and put an end to this misery that my life has become. im so sick. and i am sick and tired of being sick and tired. i dont know what makes sense anymore.

when i read back the things that i write, i think to myself that this is one pathetic person who has really lost a grip on what is real. i feel bad for this person and wish i could do something to help them. i cant. and feeling sorry for myself only makes matters worse. i have this looming sense of doom now. i know i am probably going to lose my job and it is a terrible feeling. i love it there. i do. i dont want to lose it but it seems i can never hold down a job because there is always something larger than myself interferring with my goals. i dont know how to make it stop already. i dont know how to get better. all the therapy in the world doesn't seem to help me. all the pills...they are a temporary fix. they work for a while and then, suddenly, they give up on me just as i have given up on me.

i just dont know how this story is going to end. i feel out of control. i dont know what else to do. things feel so hopeless and i dont see the light anymore. when my husband goes away, i feel damaged. i feel like he is never coming home again. i know i have abandoment issues. everything good in my life goes away eventually. my marriage is solid. when i am in a more lucid frame of mind, i know this is true. i know my husband loves me so much. he cares about me more than he cares about himself. i know this. but when he is gone, i walk around with a perpetual fear that he is never coming back again. i trust him with every fiber of my being and know that this will never be the case. ever. but when i am in this hole...i need him here so badly. i cant cling to him 24/7 the way i need to. i have to be a big girl and grow the fuck up and out of this cycle. i am 41 years old and i feel like this is never going to end for me. ever.

i wish i was different. i wish things were different.

i dont know how to make that dream come true and it leaves me hopeless.

I am feeling the fatigue of depression.

I had such big plans for today. I was going to color my hair, get my eyebrows waxed, perhaps even get a haircut. I did none of those things. I was supposed to pick up my son from school. I didn't. I have laid in bed all day feeling sorry for myself. I have no energy. These are the times I feel that the medicine is failing me. I want to be manic. I want to have the energy of 10 people and feel really alive. Instead, I am in my raggedy ass pajamas, laying in bed with the remote in one hand and a pack of cigarettes in the other. Yes, I am still smoking. I intend to quit on Mothers Day. It's my goal date. I am waiting for something to come along and snap me out of this. My brain wants to go out and do a million things. My body is not cooperating. I know this is only a mild depression. It will go away and things will be back to normal. I know this. Before my medication, my bipolar symptoms of depression would be so bad that I wanted to kill myself. I didn't want to live. Now, the symptoms are lessened, but they still feel so bad. I know that the medication is not intended for me not to feel anything at all. It's normal, I think, to have days like this...days where you can't get out of bed for the life of you. Everyone has them...I think. For me, it is horrifying because I keep feeling that it is a prelude to a disaster. I think it is the beginning of a downward spiral. I take too much comfort in my bed, my pillows, my remote. I watch the hours go by and promise myself that this will be the last hour I will lay there. I lie to myself when I do this. I had a rough day today. It's not what I dreamt it would be. Right now, the thought of taking a shower just drains me. I need to take one. The thought of the water touching my body makes me want to cry. I don't want to be clean right now. I want to wallow in this huge hole I am feeling. My husband comes home tonight. I usually look forward to that...my tail wags like a happy puppy on days that he is coming home. Right now, my tail is between my legs and I am feeling like a victim. I have no right to feel this way. Everything in my life is pretty good. Better than good, honestly. But every now and then I get sucked into this vortex. I feel like I can't breathe when I am like this. I don't know how to snap out of it. I spent money today from the comfort of my bedroom. Bought a bunch of stuff from TV infomercials. Part of my manic issues consists of uncontrolable urge to shop and spend money that I really dont have right now.

I also self medicated. I took a bunch of percocet and I am presently waiting for it to kick in so I can feel "comfortably numb". At least when I am taking the drugs, I feel like there is a reason I am laying around doing nothing at all. I am high. I can't drive a car in that condition. Can't take a shower for fear of falling down. I can blog, because it is safe and doesn't require me to venture out of my hole. This is the beauty of having a laptop. I have made myself into a hermit, coming out of my room only to eat two pieces of white bread and a glass of orange juice. My head is hurting, not due to a headache but more due to a loss of interest in my world. I hate feeling like this but I can never be proactive and do anything to stop it. It's like I simply don't know how to behave anymore.

When I was having manic issues, I didn't care about days like this. I would just kick back with a "fuck it all" attitude and feel righteously justified. Hey, I work hard all fucking week. I have a right to lay around in my pajamas and do nothing.

I don't have that right.

I blew it with not picking my son up from school and having his father do it instead. It's my day off and I should have spent it with my kid instead of the remote control. Sometimes I feel like he is better off without me around. I don't like him to see the depressed side of mom anymore. Not since the medicine. I've protected him from a lifeless, lackluster mother. There was no excuse for today and the guilt compiled with the depression is making matters so much worse. I wish I could pull it together. It's almost 7 pm and I feel that it is too late to make any changes to this day. So, I wait patiently for tomorrow to feel awake and alive again. No guarantees that this will happen, but I remain hopeful.

I'm going back to sleep now. Hopefully a better me awaits in the morning.

So I confessed.

I have to admit, it is a tremendous load off of my ever cluttered mind. I feel better for having done so, though I still don't condone my actions. It makes you feel free to live again when you confess your sin. I have developed a conscience since being on my medication. Mania doesn't rule my world any longer. It seems to me that there was a time in my life where I would have just shrugged the whole thing off and not given it a second thought.

I'm not there anymore. No longer a resident of that crazy house.

This weekend, I am going to the beach with my husband. I can do so with my load a bit lighter and with my mind more at ease. I actually slept last night for the first time since this whole incident happened. It was a good feeling to be able to lay down and not loathe myself the way I have been for the past week or so. It's a clean slate from here. I get to start over. I feel fortunate for that.

I feel fortunate for a lot of things.

I'm in big trouble.

My addiction has taken me to an all time low. I did the worst thing I think a human being can do to another human being short of taking their life. I don't deserve my life. I have a beautiful husband who I have never betrayed. I have two exceptional children who deserve better than me. I have a grandchild on the way. I have a lot to live for...but right now, I am focusing on my own demise. Not suicide. I never thought much for people who talk about killing themselves. My life is fucking good. It is a good damn life. I have money, cars, comfortable and secure things in my world. What I don't have is honesty. I betrayed myself. I know this is my disease talking and not me. I know that I have to become brave and confess what I have done to the appropriate people, but I can't. I'm a coward right now hiding under a veil of insanity. I know what I did wrong. I know it. No one else does. I could just close my eyes and make it go away, but it won't. It's eating at me like a flesh devouring virus. I am so hurt, disgusted and ashamed of myself. This is the first time I can honestly say I have hit an all time low while in recovery. I was proud of myself for being a high functioning person with bipolar disorder and schizophrenia. I would shine, despite my handicaps. No one ever knew it was there anymore unless I let them in on it. I have undone all my healing. I have unraveled the work I have done. I am in pain and I deserve it. I wish someone would physically hurt me so I don't feel the pain I am feeling right now. It's grief and anguish I haven't felt in forever. I am still reeling from what I have done.

I don't even know myself anymore. Who the fuck did I just become?

It's been a long time since I have posted here. That either means things are good, or things are pretty bad. So far, I am holdling onto the belief that things are better. I am working again and committed to my job so far. The problem is that I am discovering that I am an addict. I can't keep away from my drugs. It's a fucked up thing that is going on with me. I just started smoking. I never smoked in my 40 years of life. Now I crave them all the time. I am abusing my xanax...taking a little more than I should. It's ever since that crack whore broke into my car. It broke me and my belief that most people are inherently good if you get past their outer shell. My husband is scheduled not to work in the next four weeks. I am looking forward to that. I need to be able to work and walk away from him the way he is able to walk away from me when he is working on a contract. I am working over nights...the zombie hours I have become more accustomed to. I am no good during the day so the nights are the great place for me. I get to take my son to school and pick him up afterward. It makes me feel like a better mom...until the drugs. I literally count my pills to make sure I am never going to be out of them. I find myself thinking about them constantly though not abusing them on a daily basis. I have an addictive personality, I know this. It's hard for me to concentrate on anything else.

I am also thinking of the perfect crime.

I am having another downward slide. I feel it crawling up on me like a virus. I would love to do something to make it go away before it actually begins. I don't know what to do. I am trying what the psychiatrist recommended which is making small goals and keeping them. Lately, my small goal was to go to two job interviews. I did them both, which I am proud of. Still, I feel the slime washing over me. It literally has a feel to it. It feels like your body is slick with oil or something equally as nasty. I am treading water and a fine line right now. I feel like I am straddling between two different people right now. This feeling is the worst because you feel yourself about to drown and you are helpless to do anything to stop it. This is when I am most convinced that my pills are bullshit. I know they aren't. I haven't had a severe bout with mania in awhile which is good. I was dangerous to myself and others while experiencing manic episodes.

Britney Spears had nothing on me. I was a whole new category of crazy.

Now, I am more level headed and willing to concede victory to the mediocre that my life has become. No one wants to be manic. No one. I miss it from time to time, like a ferocious lover. You think about it. You may miss it, but you would never want it back. You wouldn't trade what you have now for it ever again. Still, it sits in the back of my mind...the potential is always there. It never leaves.

Sometimes I toy with the idea of skipping my medication. What would happen to me? Would I suddenly be driven mad? Would I have a seizure? Would I fall into some sort of coma or would I do the polar opposite and lose my ever loving fucking mind? It is so tempting sometimes, to stop taking the pills and to slowly feel deep heavy emotion again. It's like the difference between making love and fucking. I am so stable right now that it makes me bored of myself. This is when you want one of those nice, hard, brutal fucks. Mania. That's what I compare it to. It's hellaciously exciting but would you want it that way every night?

I don't know. Sometimes, I think I might.