a 3 am blog
It’s 0300. I just woke up a few minutes ago. I took some more pain meds to try and calm down my foot. I still have RENT songs in my head. Before I went to bed, I emailed my psychiatrist. I told her I was doing lousy and that I was constipated. I haven’t gone in quite a few days. It is really going hurt when I go. I have been taking fiber pills to make my stools softer, I hope.
I can’t believe the cake I made last week is almost gone. I have one slice left and it will be my breakfast. It came out really good. Now I got to make another cake when I see my psychiatrist because she wants a slice. I don’t mind making it again. I really love this cake.
I don’t understand why I am up at this hour. I took enough pills to kill a horse, not saying I should be dead (I didn’t take that many) but I should at least be sleeping through out the night. I wrote a long journal entry before going to sleep. It was a long time since I last wrote. I had to get my feelings out about my therapist. I didn’t cry this time. I think the more I write about it, the more I am getting comfortable with the idea of her being gone.
I also can’t help thinking of the material that I wrote to her would be great for a book or something. I wrote her some pretty awful things, both in letters (which she’ll probably keep) as well as my journal entries. I shared my journal so she could get a better understanding of me. Not that it helped much in the end. I keep thinking that I will have boxes of stuff but maybe I won’t. I don’t know what she will be giving back to me and what she will be keeping. I wrote to her a lot over the 16 years. She’ll probably keep those letters.