Pour my heart out

7:50pm

I know I said I wasn’t going to write entries like this, or just write anything like this period… but like I ever follow my word. That thing about writing (offline) everyday, I haven’t even done that in weeks. Let’s now kid ourselves here.. I’m no writer. Yes, I write, but that doesn’t really make me a “writer”. I never will be. Yet another dream I should have given up on long ago.

Everything is crumbling again. I spent two weeks w/nearly no sleep & no food. Now I’m sick, & somehow, I’m surprised. Now I sleep a lot but nightmares (not just bad dreams) fill these “restful” hours. The one I had last.. something about dodging cars on a busy street, a large, dark, brick building. I can remember anything else about it. Instead of writing down the fading details, I hugged my knees & closed my eyes.

Work is shit. My boss has to work 10 extra hours for free a week. So now she takes it out on me. No empathy, says negative things about me to crew members when I’m well w/in ear range. Nothing but negative comments like, “You’re STILL sick?” I just don’t hardly talk to anyone there anymore. Come to think of it, I don’t talk to much of anyone at all really. I don’t see the point. I listen & nod. But really, I”ve come to hate my job. I’m frustrated that I have 12  vacation days saved up &, when I REALLY need them (b/c I’m breaking), my bosses won’t let me near them. I hate it. I hate all of them for putting more hurdles in my way. I don’t have the energy to climb over them anymore.

Around this time a  week back, a couple of my uncles came into work over lunch. Uncles from my mom’s side… the side that has done nothing but fuck me up since I can remember. But one of my uncles (one of the ones that came in while I was working) & my grandmother have probably done the worst. He sat there for over an hour & just stared at me. I felt like throwing up the entire time. I felt my skin crawling. I feel sick thinking about it at all… so bury, bury, bury until the feeling & memories are gone.

More than anything, I feel so fucking MAD at myself! I had it together for a while there, didn’t I? For a while I felt normal.. well, as close to normal as I’ll probably ever feel.

I just want to break things. I want to take every dish & throw it against the wall. I want to pick up an ice chipper & just demolish everything around me. Then, I want to just sit in the rubble & go catatonic… go to a place in my head… the place I always deserved to be but was always denied.

My mother says see the doctor & have my lexapro increased. As if that will even begin to fix anything. As if that’s the answer. She hates me b/c I won’t let her in.. but I can’t take her hating me. I can’t take her knowing that I long to use again, to take just one little pill to make me blissful for a couple of hours. She’d hate me. She’d make me go to treatment. B/c, as alcoholics say, you can never have just one drink.

somehow, i need to sort this all out… and I guess I’m going to do it alone b/c that’s the only way I know how.

On a final notes, I’m loving the Pandora radio app on my ipod touch right now. w/o it, i’d probably be in tears right now.

Entry finished: 9:32pm