I think my body has finally adjusted to having no sleep aid in it. This is the second night in a row I’ve felt tired before 10pm. But I stay up because I’m enjoying my quiet time alone. I’m so lucky my kids never had any problems sleeping thru the night. With both of them it was 4 months of hell, then business as usual after that.
But anyway, I’m sitting here on the couch in my usual bad-for-posture position. Frankly, I don’t give a shit about my scoliosis anymore. As long as I’m not in chronic pain and I can function normally, I’m golden.
Goddam I’m hungry right now. FUCK!
So anyways, I still haven’t called my therapist back. I’m still avoiding things. But avoidance is bliss sometimes. I don’t know if it’s the drugs or what but lately I’ve felt like a curtain has been lifted from my mind and it’s freed my ability to think and function. Depression is indeed a crippling thing. I can’t believe I survived it for so long. 4 years. And I didn’t realize it until I started planning my own death and fantasizing with being dead.
I had a plan. It’s true. I came close to being hospitalized. I did. And I don’t even think my hubby knows how close. He was avoiding things too. But I digress… my doctor is right, I’ll probably have this problem for the rest of my life.
When I started planning and cutting, I crossed some kind of line and there’s never any going back. At least I still can’t look back on the whole ordeal like some distant memory because it’s still something within me that can be conjured up too easily for my comfort. I became hooked on something (not drugs, but just as destructive) and it’s surprising that even with this “thing”, once an addict, always an addict isn’t just some sort of cliche. It holds true. I get the urges and I have to distract myself from them. The good thing is that the period of time between these urgest hits is getting farther apart.
“Inner strength” is beginning to mean something completely different to me than “umpf”.
I gotta eat.
End of line.
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