I'm on vacation in Arizona. Big whoopdeedoo. I'm supposed to be having a good time. Supposed to be enjoying the weather. Enjoying my parents' company. I am doing none of these things. I miss my bed at home -- pulling the covers up over my head and crying myself to sleep. Here I have to get dressed. Sit upright (sometimes stand! and walk! egads!). Stay awake for hours and somehow occupy that time. Pretend that I'm somewhat normal. I am counting the days and the hours and the minutes until I get back on a plane, back to my normal life of unconsciousness. I miss that dark place.
Suicidal. And pissed the fuck off that something as simple as not taking a medication for ONLY SEVEN DAYS can take me to this place. Two more weeks and I start a new antidepressant. Yippee. I am SO sure that it's going to cure me. That I'll miraculously bid farewell to the mental hell I've been in for the past twenty years. Yeah, I'm holding my breath on that one.
I don't know how I'm going to manage the next four days of vacation. Vacation -- what a joke. But hey, it's Arizona -- I could always impale myself on a cactus. Good times.
3 comments:
Yup,... reading this you do understand,....
(hugs)
(Thanks for the comment on my blog)
I am not sure if you want me to laugh but you did make me laugh. I only wish a med could do all the work and cure whatever ails us. What a world that would be.
In the Pink: I'm glad I made you laugh. As ridiculously horrible as it all gets, some things are still kind of funny.
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