I woke up at fricken 0630 this morning in pain. I didn’t take a full dose of my pain meds because I had to be up in a couple of hours to start my day. I saw my therapist and I told her how depressed I have been feeling. I also gave her a packet of stuff to read, including a letter. We discussed the letter in detail, though not specifically. I think Hyde is trying to come out as I want to write goodbye letters and notes. It’s becoming more of an itch lately. Just in case something were to happen to me, at least there will be documents left behind. You never know when your time is going to run out. I told her I plan on writing my psychiatrist a goodbye letter. That is going to be the hardest thing for me to write because I have known her for so long. Twenty years is a long time to know someone.
We also talked about how similar my writing and Dostoevsky’s are. I sent her a text message last night and she wasn’t sure it was me or Fyodor. I basically told her I was surrounded by death yet none of it is keeping me here, or something to that effect. I have been in one of my severe depressive moods the past 24 hours, even despite being on an antidepressant. And it is true what I wrote. I am surrounded by suicide manuals and textbooks and other types of books yet none of them eases my pain or decreases my suicidality. I feel hopeless that this will change. It’s like I have been searching through these books hoping to fix myself and I just haven’t found the right piece of the puzzle. I thought I had found the answer with CAMS but it doesn’t sustain me. I still retreat into suicidality. and then I think what good am I? How am I supposed to help someone when I can’t even fix myself?
Today is my father’s birthday. I wish we had celebrated at home. My nephew, and I do love him dearly, talked non-stop the entire time. At one point, I told him to breathe and to think for a bit. When that didn’t work, I plainly told him to shut up. He was coming up with the weirdest ideas, thinking he was funny. But in reality, he was just annoying. I never knew him to be this way before. Then he told me my mood was setting him off. I asked what mood that was. He said the mood of not wanting to be here, to be somewhere else. He was right about that. I was bored, tired, and I just wanted my pillow.
My father was annoying as usual. I am glad I sat at the end of the table away from him. He was proud of himself because he finished his meal. How satisfying that he ate a meal and drank a few glasses of wine. Congrats, daddio. Big fucking deal. I am in a mood, a rotten one.
I have therapy with my therapist tomorrow and I don’t want to. I am just sick of talking. I just want to be left alone, with my aloneness, as Lincoln would say. But she won’t have it, the bitch. Anyways, it’s too late to cancel anyway, not like she would. I really should just go to bed before Hyde comes out. I know he is itching to write but I can’t let him. I will let him write in my journal where it is more private.
I witnessed a terrible accident while driving home from my therapist’s office. I don’t think I am going to take the highway home anymore. I am being too traumatized by it. This car had rolled over and most of the contents of the vehicle were spread out on the highway. It was so sad but cars were crawling to look and I just wanted to get the hell home without hitting anybody in the process. I can still see the car’s underside as it was flipped on its side. So damn scary. I don’t know how cars can rollover like that, especially in a tunnel. I am just grateful the car didn’t spark a fire, despite the dust cloud it created. That was more scary than the car turned on its side! From now on, I will just take the back roads home. It takes longer but at least it’s safer.
midnightdemons7 