When You See My Face I Hope it Gives You Hell!!

Right now, I’m drinking. Not only am I drinking, but I’m a little fucking drunk. Hey! It’s legal! I would drink some more, but I’m out, and I’m damn straight not rolling to the store for more. Plus, all I can get at this time of the day is the 3-point piss water. Nasty shit...bout time to make a trip to Kansas!!

Also, Officer Asshole would love to bust me for that one, and tonight would not be a good night for that type of encounter. I’m in this fucked up mood where I feel like I want to slice the heads off every stupid motherfucker I meet. I could cuss someone out in about 3 seconds flat, which would probably led to a tasering now days. I'm just in a pissed off at the world kind of mood.

Maybe it’s because I’m not sleeping much. I only got about 4 hours last night. I take forever to fall asleep, then I wake up early and can’t seem to close my eyes again. That’s mostly why I’m drinking tonight. I’m hoping the alcohol will help me sleep a little longer. If I do get up early, I’m just going to get out and maybe go for a long walk at some park...maybe Chandler again.

I’ve slowed up on taking the Phentermine, thinking maybe that’s what is making my insomnia worse, but I don’t think that’s the problem. I’ve gone through this in the past when I wasn’t taken the phentermine, still I have to try something to stop the increasingly louder ringing in the my ears that I experience when I haven‘t slept much.

I also did a little research and found out I’m experiencing what is called a Mixed state. It’s when symptoms of mania and depression meet and collide, which can be very dangerous the way I understand it all. I guess it is, because when I’m just depressed I don’t have the desire or energy to force myself out of bed long enough to bathe, let only have the energy to kill myself. All I do is eat and eat everything sweet, until I fall asleep. With the mania, I’m too busy doing a thousand things to sit still long enough to think about dieing. Roll the two together, and I could be in serious trouble. The mania gives me just enough energy to carry out the plans of my depressed mind.

I’ve been thinking about getting on some sort of medication again, but that means calling my OHCA insurance and finding out what doctor I can see; fight with them on the phone for 30 minutes or more, until I‘m ready to just cut my wrist instead. Then I have to call the doctors office, and hope like hell they are not crazy than me; make the appointment; for probably a month or more from now; (which by then I might feel different or I’ve already killed myself); force myself out of the house to go; sit in the waiting room for an hour at least; sit maybe 5 minutes before some motherfucker thinks he immediately knows my diagnosis; get on some fucked up pill that might make it all worse. It’s all guess work.

Okay, this shit is making me lose my buzz. Fuck all you motherfuckers who don’t like the way I am. Want to do something about it...then you call my insurance company, you set up the appointment, you come pick me up and make sure I arrive at every appointment, then you bring me back home and let me be. Yeah, that’s what I thought. You give a fuck as much as I do. I’ve got to get off here before I start letting my true feelings show.

Pain is delicious
Reminds me that I’m real.
Pain organizes me
Defines the boundaries of where I end
And the world begins.

Feeling out of Control

I feel so out of control. Almost homicidal, suicidal, as if the pieces of me that have been a whole suddenly aren't and are off on their own, doing their own things, popping in and out like a radio station almost too far away to pick up clearly and reliably.

I hate this feeling of not being entirely in control of my reactions to things. I could go back to a psychiatrist, but how many can a person see, how many meds can a person try and still be in trouble? if insanity is defined as doing the same thing over and over, but each time expecting different results, then isn't it insane to go to another doctor? Is it irresponsible not to go if it never works? And if it never works, is this what I have to look forward to, this increasingly fragmented blob of reactions I can't predict or control?

For now I have decided to self medicate.

Crash of Chaos

What is Real?

Psychosis, mental illness, psychotic,
Been labeled schizophrenic.
Complete mental confusion.
I don’t know what’s real any more.

They say its just the voice of my conscience,
if this is true
then why does that persons voice
come from the other side of the room?

The trees are crying again.
Suicidal ideation, self destructive behavior.
I feel I have no choice
Sick of being treated as a criminal.

I’m watching myself
from somewhere in another time.
Total confusion
Distorted reality.

Can you hear my voices arguing?
I have to obey the voices,
Just to make them quiet.
I don’t have a choice, they will make me do it.
Deny the voices, push them away.

Let me deny the existence of my own thoughts.

When I was a kid I used to believe that I could alter the outcome of events just by thinking about it. Then one day I told somebody what I could do, and they only laughed at me. I began believing from there on that nothing I would ever do, would change the world. I didn’t matter any more.


Crash of Chaos

I stepped out into the rain
hardly aware of anything around me.
The water poured down my rosy cheeks
Obscuring my privately hidden tears.

Why do I still cry? What do I feel?
I looked up into the clouds in a daze,
flecks of water splashing into my eyes.
Can the weather synchronize with my heart?
Every pounding drop is how far down I’ve fallen.

The rain picks up.
Harder, harder.
I taste salt.
Am I crying?
Are the clouds raining my tears?
Lighting, you’d think I’d be used to it by now,
but always the resulting thunder,
whether sooner or later,
comes crashing down around me.

Surrounding me,
enveloping me in a cocoon of the deepest sorrow.
I can’t even hold myself together anymore.
The winds howl like forlorn ghosts,
harshly whipping rain and hair about my face.

Light, another crashing thunder,
louder and more terrible than the last.
The trees are bent sideways almost.
But this isn’t even the beginning of my storm.
My knees give out beneath me
and my cry is masked by another
crash of chaos.