February 2012
59 posts
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Caught myself streamlining straight-ahead for disaster. Not this time, mind.
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Oh yes, Now I remember. I have a habit of falling apart whenever sudden changes in my routine occur. This explains most of last week —the chaos and turmoil boiling in my teeming brain. But now I am satisfied and swelling under the weight of my brilliant routine I have concocted for the last few months of my life. Please don’t leave me ever again (who knows if I will recover).
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I have decided that I am going to slowly wean off all of my medications. I have to be sure that without these medications I am still this chaotic; I have to be sure that I truly need them. Before these medications I was depressed from indulging in the ED but I never felt like this —ever. So I need to be sure. [I am not doing anything until I talk to my psychiatrist.]
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Here’s how you make absolutely sure that you’ll keep getting crazier by the day:
Ignore everything your psychiatrist tells you. Disregard all his warnings about the way you’re living your life —in fact, do absolutely everything he tells you not to.
Don’t take your pills. They’re a hassle, and what if they make you dull? You don’t need them. And if...
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Spent the evening in utter simplicity with the electricity burnt out and the cold nipping at my skin. Surrounded by candles and the mere physicality of the objects around me (books, pens, paper) I felt more grounded than I have ever been. This is all I want.
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I need my sanity back.
Plan:
start doing yoga daily,
take medications as prescribed,
drink only 1 cup coffee in the morning,
and no more alcohol.
xeno
dictionaryofobscuresorrows:
n. the smallest measurable unit of human connection, typically exchanged between passing strangers—a flirtatious glance, a sympathetic nod, a shared laugh about some odd coincidence—moments that are fleeting and random but still contain powerful emotional nutrients that can alleviate the symptoms of feeling alone.
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Coffee pushes my mood up into a nice manageable state. I used to mistakenly judge others who engaged in behaviors they knew they shouldn’t, but I understand the rationale now. If I had to spend an entire day in the sleep-walking stupor I found myself in later this morning, with negative thoughts continually circling my head, or drink coffee and enjoy my day, I will drink coffee. I understand...
Anonymous asked: Do you have manic depression/bipolar?
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My behavior is incredibly inconsistent; yesterday the complete desire for solitude, today an unrelenting need to be in the presence of others to quiet the chatter in my head. So here I sit in the library that I normally despise, craving the disquiet of page shuffling and pens clicking open and close. I need the gentle movements of others as a backdrop to my eyes. Knowing that others can see me...
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Mood is rising, rising, rising; risen. In the last hour and a half I have written an essay on existential death-anxiety (for my own pleasure; I don’t ever get formal education this relevant) and made a necklace. Normally I could perhaps conjure up the effort to do one of these things in an entire day. I wonder what else I can do, do, do. My actual class-work? Nah. I believe in self-directed...
Anonymous asked: You are going to be okay. If it's not okay, it's not the end. You are worthy by virtue of your own existence and not because of any external factors. I love YOU for being yourself. And, you are a good person who, above all else, deserves to live a high-quality life.
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“A poem needs understanding through the senses. The point of diving into a lake...”
– Bright Star
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Alone. At home. Absorbed back into my mind. It’s no wonder I get overwhelmed by too much external stimuli if I can be perfectly entertained in a blank room just tracing the wanderings of my mind. Already my mind is stuffed full of things to think. I must devour them all; sit by candle light and write each one out, contain them and let them free.
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About to give my talk/advice. Now would be a good time for a high mood to kick in; high mood and instant charisma. Why never when I need it?
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So happy to get out of this town for a while.
Tomorrow: speech at the hospital for their ED program’s Family&Friends Day and then out of here for a wonderful weekend with solacewithinchaos. I need space to clear my head, someplace that is different from all of this surrounding me. I need time with someone who I love and cherish so dearly. I need perspective.
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“She’d go on as if nothing had happened. That was the devilish part of her — this...”
– Virginia Woolf, Mrs Dalloway.
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When your longest support whom you rely on to say the simple things such as ‘you are going to be ok’, ‘you are worthy’, ‘you are a good person and deserve to live’ stops responding to your texts. How am I supposed to believe these things now?
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Emotional wreck; Exhausted; Hopeless.
I am tired of incessantly struggling with emotions and chaos suppressed in my head. I can’t go back; I am overcome with overwhelming embarrassment of how needy/incapable/useless I am, taxing chances and chances but delivering the same futile product. I am so sorry, I really am.
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Dearest self,
Now would be a good time to practice emotional regulation. Thank you.
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Today is one of the bad days; my head speaks to me in rhyme and I am trapped in a metaphor prison. Luckily for my poetry it comes fast and pressured, emotional and cathartic. Everything else is sacrificed. I wonder if anyone can tell when I am falling?
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Why I am alone on Valentine's Day (or any other...
Guy: I'm allergic to cats.
Me: This really isn't going to work out.
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I spend the majority of my time with my thesaurus.
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I see everything as stones of images in my mind that once skipped across in a particular and intricate way creates the perfect poem; the perfect mix of metaphor, detail, complexity rising and falling. It is all there, it is always all there I just need to get it out.
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I am grappling with poetry; playing with it as it sticks to my meaty fingers. I don’t know what to make of it yet so we will see if I have anything profound to say. My mood is a perfect plateau today; not a canyon nor a thrilling tightrope over raging waters —a perfect plateau.
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In a moment like this I would rather like my limbs to be pulled tightly in all directions until my joints crack and pop as they give way to an unrelenting force.
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Dear Sivvy,
My condolences for you; for your struggle; for the day that marked the end.
My only regret is never meeting you.
Sylvia Plath (October 27, 1932 - February 11, 1963)
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Jibber jabbering in my head. Sudden shift of mood that is greatly welcomed. I am ATTACKING everything with a hyper-productivity that is furious and destructive. Stay out of my way.
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Now I understand why my face looks like someone decided to play bingo on it. Peak hormone levels: estrogen, LH, FSH. Nothing like spending friday night reviewing the menstrual cycle. #life of student
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So far in my academic experience this is the month wherein everything starts to slowly slip. I am tired; my mind has only enough capacity left to resist a complete system failure. The thread that hangs on to my sanity is frayed down to the last fiber dangerously swaying back and forth (back and forth) taunting me. All I need to do is hang on. I couldn’t last time but this time, maybe this...
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Whenever my mom decides to tell me something obvious in a reprimanding manner like ‘you’re late’ I answer with another equally obvious and irrelevant fact: my shoes are brown. I think shes starting to get the point.
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I am afraid that this is another one of my ‘great ideas’ that I get bored of after a while: writing as a career. It’s certainly not elaborate or far-fetched but the initial high has worn off and now I feel the same as always: scared, hopeless. Living always within the world in my head. I can never accept reality, never fully, my mind doesn’t let me; it slips off, drifts,...
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Rage: boiling over from somewhere, but I don’t know where. Now I know the slightest thing will set me off … waiting. Nothing has caused this; what could I possibly be angry about? Just another mental hiccup. Hiccup.
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Sylvia Plath: Click-click: tick-tick Clock snips... →
iquotesylviaplath:
Click-click: tick-tick Clock snips time in two Lap of rain In the drain pipe Two o’clock And never you. Never you, down the evening, I cannot Cry, or even smile Acidly or bitter-sweetly For never you and incompletely. Things surround me; I could touch Soap or toothbrush Desk or…
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Yesterday I wrote how dying must feel. How one’s entire body can lay still beneath a blanket of lethargy and become incredibly silent. And the waves of sleep are warmly welcomed and crash over you in gentle waves and you wait to be pulled down one notch lower to fatality.
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I am ridiculously sick right now. I spent the last 17 hours in bed and missed all my classes today. I really hope I get better by Friday since I was planning on spending the weekend at my friends house. I will be so incredibly frustrated if I can’t go.
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Ways to reduce time spent on the internet: get a virus and be so broke you can’t afford to fix it. Thank goodness my typewriter ink came in the mail today.
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I spent this weekend ‘partying’ and being social which is usually not at all like me. However, I needed to blow off some major steam after writing 4 midterms in two days at the end of last week. I don’t regret any of this; yes I drank copious amount of alcohol and danced so hard that my legs still hurt but I also had intense emotional conversations with a guy I am getting to know...