Will it ever get any better?

I haven't had a good morning. I am so unfocused, it's almost scary. Just writing these lines is really difficult right now. I feel so restless and anxious. Last night I thought I was drifting into psychosis, I don't know, my thoughts were racing and I felt so restless in my body. I tried to write a letter but couldn't focus. I tried to read but I couldn't focus. I tried to watch a movie, I couldn't focus. I have had bad period where I couldn't concentrate much but I don't think it has ever been so bad as right now. I feel like I have a million things to do. And I want to do these things. But I can't start and if I start I lose focus right away. I have always been saying that my mind, my intellect, my brain is my strength. But right now it's failing me. I guess I'll just keep on trying and hopefully I can get something done. I can maybe start doing some patches for me jacket today, and figure out how the sewing-machine works and how to apply studs. Maybe it's easier to do something with my hands than to do something with my mind. I don't like being in this state of total restlessness. I don't even know if it's anxiety, last night it was, but is it right now?

I was supposed to meet T, my social worker, today. But he cancelled our appointment. He had been to the dentist and is kind of incapable of talking. We'll maybe meet up tomorrow instead. I don't care. I'd rather not meet him. I don't want to be around people, my social anxiety is really bad.

The atmosphere in the flat isn't that positive right now. My boyfriend is kind of sad because his biological father has died. I don't actually know if he is sad. His feelings are a negative mess at the moment. Our roommate has started taking a new antidepressant and it is making him feel really bad. He has really bad anxiety and he won't have an appointment with his psychiatrist any time soon. So I gave him a few of my Oxazepam. I know, that's not good or smart. Hopefully his doctor will give him some proper sedatives soon. And I'm a mess too. But I don't know why. I'm tired and restless. Anxious. Sad. Imagine the Duracell-bunny with puffy eyes, tears running down its cheeks and screaming out of fear. That's me.

I  called the council and asked for an appointment to get married. We are getting married on August 15th. It's not a romantic thing, it's more about being reasonable. I would get  a Swedish last name. We have been together for over 8 years. So why not get married? We are not going to make a big deal out of it. We won't invite anyone. We can't afford a wedding. I'm not even sure if  we can afford rings. I won't have a wedding dress, there won't be any cake, there won't be any guests. I have never dreamed of a big wedding anyway. I basically just want to get it over with. I think my social anxiety plays a role in this too. I don't like to be around people. I don't want to be in the center of attention. I might have to explain it better: I don't mind talking in front of people if it has to do with my knowledge. But I hate the attention when it comes to me as a person, my personality, my personal space, my feelings. That's why group therapy has always been diffcult for me.

I have also applied for Swedish citizenship. That cost me around 200 Euro. I'm just waiting for them to send me a copy of the online application I have already filled in so I can sign it. And then I'll have to send my German passport to them. As far as I have understood, I can have double-citzenship. The reason why I want the Swedish citizenship is to be able to go and vote. And to feel like I'm part of society for real. Eh, and in the unlike event of a war it wouldn't be bad to have two citzenships. But yeah, I won't get a result from that for another 10 months or so.

I'll try to exercise now. And then I'll cook. Well, it won't be much cooking. We have some pre-marinated chicken that I'll put in the oven. All I have to do is cook rice and make a salad. I'm a lazy bastard. I hope I can read a bit later. The whole DIY-thing seems like a lot of work to me right now. I think I'll postpone that to the weekend instead. I want the jacket to be fancy until the Peter Murphy-concert which is on June 10th. Still almost two weeks. Gosh, I'm so tired, I can barely keep my eyes open. Gah!

Zombie

It's raining. Really hard rain. And it is warm. I feel like I can't breathe. And I'm so exhausted. I couldn't fall asleep last night. All the time I thought: "Now I'm getting up and I'm going to take a Zoplicone!". But I didn't get up. I fell asleep around 4 a.m. and woke up at 7. I wandered around in the flat for a while, smoking, drinking water, cuddling the cat. I went back to sleep and my cat woke me up at 8.30 a.m.. I don't know why. In the end we fell asleep together, she was on my stomach. I woke up at 11 a.m. and since then I have been trying to get out of a sleepy state. I can barely open my eyes. But my thoughts are still spinning and my heart is beating at a high rate. I feel like I'm drugged, my body is in some kind of stupor. I'll most definitely not take Propavan for a few nights. My sleeping can't get any worse and I won't have such horrible hangovers. I used to be able to accept the hangovers because the pill was working. But without it working why should I endure the hangovers? So sometime next week I'll skip the Propavan for a few days. I know it has a sedative effect too so I guess I'll have increased anxiety. But I have Valium now so I can somehow make it work. 

I have also decided that I need to get things done. I feel like I'm wasting away my days with the internet and TV. I'm often surprised when it's evening and I really haven't done anything productive at all during the day. I'm most creative and productive during the evenings, that's when I write, that's when I do my DIY. But I should fill the days with something too. So I thought about doing a timetable, I have done it before and it worked alright. It would do a lot about the guilt, the feeling of being lazy. I know, it's the anxiety and the depression that's holding me back. But I should at least give it a try. I could clean for instance. Or read. I haven't been reading a lot lately which is totally weird. I love reading. Our apartment is never chaotic but it just isn't clean. We'll see, if not taking the Propavan gives me more energy I can give it a try.

I can't stop thinking and worrying about the whole bipolar and Lithium-thing. I have even been thinking about trying Seroquel again. I only gave it a two days-trial and then gave up on it. The Abilify and the Zyprexa helped but gave me bad side-effects. Maybe the Seroquel will help too? I really should give those thoughts a rest. Not think about it for a few days and then look at it with fresh eyes. I've been hearing and reading so many different things about the Lithium so I really don't know. When it comes to medication it really comes to the individual level, every person reacts to it differently.

I wish my brain would function normally right now. I feel like a zombie. My boyfriend just went out to do some errands. Well, mostly my errands. I needed new glue for my mail art things. But he also needed to go to the pharmacy to fetch his allergy-meds. So I don't have to feel guilty about him going out just for me. I think I'll do the dishes now, then fold the laundry and then try to exercise. I need to get out of this zombie-like state. 

And there's more ... spending money, death and riots

As my boyfriend has decided to take care of dinner/lunch/food today I thought I'd write another entry. I'm usually the one who cooks but during the weekends I let him take over. And honestly, we don't work well in the kitchen together. He finds me way too controlling and well, I probably am. I just want things to be done right! Haha. Everyone is barbecueing today but we don't have anywhere we can use a grill. Well, we could walk down to the lake, they have a public barbecue-area there but there are lots of families down there and honestly, I don't like screaming children and fat sweaty men in wife-beaters. So we'll fry our meat instead, we bought barbecue-meat. So yeah, it will be almost like a barbecue. 

After my appointment with the psychiatrist, my boyfriend and I went to a mall close to where we live so I could buy the things I need for my DIY-project. I want to pimp up a jacket with patches and studs. By the time we got to the DIY-store I had already spent most of my money though. I had to pick up my meds (I got a really suspicious look and lots of interrogating questions from the pharmacist. That's what happens if you want to pick up three different benzos), I went to H&M and bought some lipstick, went to another store to buy some concealer and primer and I went to a huge store with small cute things for the home (It's called "Lagerhaus"). They had fake moustaches!! I just had to buy them. Haha. Anyway, so I could only get some basic things at the DIY-store. I had wanted to buy some pens and stamps for my letters too.

Do you want to know how weird my mind works? I'm of course now analyzing if my behaviour, buying all these things, has anything to do with that I might be bipolar. gah! I was just so relieved and happy after the appointment at the psych-center that I happily bought some small things. I didn't buy anything expensive. The most expensive thing I bought was the primer for around 12 UsDollar. So I might be overthinking this. It's not like I bought a pair of shoes for a 1000 bucks. But I must admit that I have been spending quite a lot of money lately, I ordered stationary for 100 UsDollars for instance. But I needed it! Bah, I should try to stop over-thinking things.

We had lunch at a salad-bar. Now that is HUGE for me. I don't eat out, I have real trouble eating in front of other people. I had an avocado-cottage cheese salad and it was yummy! I even let my boyfriend take a picture of me and the food and I uploaded it on Instagram. Big deal for me. 

I skyped with my mum for an hour in the evening, messing around with my moustaches. Haha. I told her that we all think that she's addicted to the internet. And she actually agreed to that. She told me about some fucked-up things that my dad has done lately. She always has a packed bag now, so she can leave at once if necessary. From what she told me, it sounds like he has a drug-induced psychosis. That's what drugs do to you if you have taken them for like 30 years. She said that she won't leave the house until she has an own place to move into, until she knows where to get the money from to survive. That's her decision. I would have left already some weeks ago. My mum looked tired and exhausted. But she laughed hard at my moustache-stunts. It was good to see her.

I then chatted with a friend from åland which was fun. She's a great person and always have something to talk about. Then my boyfriend got a call, his father is dead. The thing is that they never really were in touch, he left his mum when he was only 2, his mum died when he was 3 and he then got adopted by his grandparents. His father only came to visit them when someone had died and he thought he could get some money from inheritence. My boyfriend sent him a letter about a year ago to know about any illnesses in the family but only got a short note back saying that his father doesn't want any contact with him. So yeah, it was more like a relief for him to get to know that his father is dead. Although he is a bit sad that he never really got to know him, never really met him. 

And during the night the riots started again. I'm sure that most of you have read about the riots in Stockholm and especially in the suburbs. It's happening in my suburb too, they burned down cars, they smashed windows and threw stones at the police. Last night I saw a gang of maybe 30 youngsters walk into the center, carrying things they can fight with. It all seems a bit apocalyptic. We bought an extra-insurance for our car so in case it gets burned down, we get money. The thing that is annoying me the most are the helicopters flying around, all the damn time! I get that the police needs to have an overview of the area but those helicopters are loud! I have my strong opinions about the riots that I really don't need to share here. Let's just say it's the government's and the system's fault. If the gap between rich and poor grows, people get upset eventually.

Bipolar?!?

I wanted write an entry yesterday but I was just way too tired. I couldn't focus on anything, let alone write in a language that isn't my mothertongue. I'm having a bad headache today, I took a painkiller this morning, got all drowsy, went back to bed, slept for another two hours and now I think I'm well enough to tackle this day.

So I had the appointment with my new psychiatrist yesterday. It was really difficult for me to get up at 7 a.m., my boyfriend literally had to drag me out of bed. I had two panic-attacks, one in the car on the way to the psych-center, I calmed down and we went inside and I had another panic attack in the waitingroom. As I'm a controlfreak, I can control my reactions to some extent. I don't start crying or screaming. So most people don't even realize when I have a panic attack. Maybe if they sit next to me and they hear me hyperventilating. 

The psychiatrist is a man in his 50s. He was really friendly and I felt at ease right away. He has worked in the pharmaceutic industry for years, doing testings with Abilify and Seroquel. That might make some people suspicious but I thought that was cool because that means that he has a lot of knowledge concerning meds, something that most psychiatrists don't have. He had read my whole (!!!) file which I found very surprising. Most psychiatrists I have met can't even remember your name and they tell you to give them a summary of your life and the meds you have taken. We talked for almost an hour, another positive thing, I often only had gotten 15 minutes of a doctor's time because they are so stressed out. 

So what did he say? He was very honest and said that he doesn't think that I'd be getting any better with only therapy. He said that the therapy will have to last for years and years and that psychodynamic therapy probably is right for me because it has an intellectual perspective. But it won't be enough. I can agree with that, I have done the DBT for a year after all and I haven't improved a bit, nope, I even got worse. He also said that he doesn't look at diagnosiseses in the first place but at the people and the symptoms that he can do something about with medication. And that's fair in my opinion, there is no medical cure for any mental illness and there is not much known about the brain's functions anyway. He told me that after having read my journal he suspects that one of the main illnesses I have is Bipolar Disorder. He doesn't think that I have any personality disorders. He said that my main problem is the anxiety, so I definitely have all those anxiety disorders. And the PTSD is pretty obvious as well. 

So we talked about the Bipolar thing for a while. He said it is Bipolar 2 and that my hypomanic phases just never caused any huge trouble for me because they made me more effective and creative and that that had been a good thing for me, my studies and my writing. And I think that could be true. I have times when I am way more effective and creative, almost obsessed with things and I succeed with about everything I do. And then I have times, mostly when I'm really depressed, when I can't focus at all and I feel like all my abilities and talents have just left me. I just never connected it all together. It's the same with being talkactive. Damn, I can talk a lot and really fast at times. But then I have periods when I don't say much at all. But I'm not impulsive and I never think that I'm a genious or anything. I'm not too sure what to think of all of this. Do I even want to have yet another diagnosis? This is what happens when you have to switch psychiatrists all the time. Everyone says something else. At least no one thinks I have Borderline Personality Disorder anymore. So yay.

Medication. We didn't speak much about sleepingpills because I have already tried all the ones that are out there. He said that I could try to cut down on the Propavan for a while and then take it again, maybe my body will react to it better then. So I'll try to be without it for a couple of nights, maybe next weekend. The most amazing and baffeling thing happened. Well, we all know that psychiatrists are against benzodiazipines, mostly because there are some low-lifes out there who take them illegaly to get high ( hate hate hate those people, they are really making it more difficult to get help when you actually are in need of sedatives). But nope, my new psychiatrist actually offered me a stronger and more long-lasting benzo than the one I'm usually taking. He actually couldn't believe that no one had taken my anxiety seriously before. He of course gave me the talk: not to take the med too often, not overdose, not take it with alcohol. Anyway, I have Valium now. I also convinced him to give me a prescription for the Oxazepam, in case the Valium doesn't work for me. Well, and then he suggested Lithium. He said that it could level my feelings out and that it will do something about my suicidality. I asked him to give me some weeks to think about it. I did a google search, talked with two of my friends who are bipolar and I read up on side-effects. And I have decided to not try it. I have gained sooooooo much weight due to hospital stays and medication, I just can't gain anymore. It's not good for my self-confidence and most importantly, it's not good for my body. And I have PCOS so I don't even think I can take Lithium with that. And there is this HUGE fear of side-effects that I have. The things I have gone through with other meds, I just don't want to re-live that. Nope. The only two meds that actually made me feel better were Lamictal and Abilify, both moodstabilizers, both work for people who are bipolar. Are there any more moodstabilizers out there? What am I to do!?! I know antidepressants haven't worked on me at all so far ...

Uh, and then he gave me the phone-number to his office. I was in shock. I have NEVER gotten the number of a psychiatrist. I never had the possibility to contact them. I almost hugged him because I was so overwhelmed by all of this. I mean, he has read my file, he actually gave me and my problems some attention and real thought. He wasn't demeaning, he treated me like a person. Oh, and he is writing a book right now and as he has had read in my file that I'm good with words he asked me to write a poem or a short prosa-piece on how I have been treated by psych-professionals. I'll give that a try. I'll meet him in three weeks again and hopefully he has another suggestion than Lithium. 

I'm really confused right now. Am I really bipolar? Should I try any more medication? I'll try not to think about it this weekend. At the moment I'm just glad that I've met the first friendly psychiatrist since my journey with mental illness started. Sadly enough, he'll only work at the center until autumn. Now that's my luck!

Gloomy Day

The anxiety is overbearing today. I'm so restless, I can't focus on anything. I just want it to stop! The weather is grey, cold and rainy today. And I kind of like it, it's mellow and calm. No screaming kids outside. I don't think there is a noise more annoying than screaming kids. I have the strong desire to just crawl back into bed, fall asleep and just forget about this day. Really, I hate waking up in the morning, knowing that there is a new day to tackle, a new day with lots of anxiety, crying and meaningless routines.

T was here yesterday and we called the psych-center together. They called me back later that day and finally  admitted that it was kind of wrong to just drop me like that, to let me go without any psych-contact for months even though it says in my file that there is a high suicide-risk. I have an appointment with a psychiatrist on Friday. I have never met that guy so I'll keep an open mind. I don't have a lot of good experiences with psych-doctors, they are often condescending and somewhat mean. But I don't need anything special so I have nothing to worry. I'll put all my energy into getting into the psychodynamic therapy. I don't think medication will help me much because I'm over-sensitive to meds. So I'll only ask if he has any other suggestion when it comes to sleepingpills because the Propavan doesn't do shit anymore. And I'll ask for some new sick-papers as mine were only valid until the end of March. It's not like I'll get any money from anywhere but it would feel better to have it black on white that it's okay that I'm not doing anything right now. I often feel like a burden, a lazy ass, because all I'm doing is being at home. So I don't know, it would feel good to have it acknowledged that I'm actually ill.

When it comes to meeting psychiatrists I'm always extra-careful. The biggest fear I have is to be admitted to the hospital against my will, to have most of my rights taken away from me. You know, when you are going to a GP and you try to exaggerate a bit so you are taken seriously? Well, I would never do that with a psychiatrist. I think I'll sit down tomorrow night and just write down some things that I want to take up so I'm not sitting there saying nothing or actually blasting out the truth. The truth is that I'm at my worst for this year so far. But I'll try to sugar-coat that. Better be prepared.

The appointment is at 9 a.m. which basically is the middle of the night for me. My boyfriend will take some hours off from work so he can drive me. I didn't ask him to do that, he suggested it. And I guess otherwise I really wouldn't have been able to make it there. Taking the subway, in the middle of the night and meeting a new psychiatrist? And I haven't been out of the flat for a month. So yeah, I'm grateful that he offered to help me. 

There have been some riots in the suburb I'm living in. It all started in another suburb of Stockholm but it kind of spread. So young guys set cars on fire and crush windows. Very mature. So we have now upgraded the insurance on our car, so we won't lose a lot of money in case someone decides to set the garage on fire. I understand the young guys, I know what alienation is like, I know what poverty is like. I just don't think riots and violence are the way to go. But no one asks me so why bother?

Trying

This is the first day in two weeks that I'm alone at home. My boyfriend is working and P had some appointments to attend. It doesn't feel too bad. I just need to stay occupied with doing something. So I have been cleaning, reading and listening to music. I think I'll try to exercise soon. The sun is shining and it's warm. I'm not too bad although I'm terribly tired and Mr.Anxiety is fucking my mind. I'll just try to be busy and not give my brain the opportunity to create destructive thoughts. I've actually had some interesting discussions on Facebook this morning, about intellectuality and who can be defined as an intellectual. I think it all comes down to a wish for knowledge and the ability to question doctrines. 

I skyped with my brother for two hours yesterday. We talked about my parents and how we should behave. We both agreed on that we don't want to pulled into a war, we don't want to be stuck in the middle. My mum had called him and said that she wants to stay with him for a time which of course puts him in a difficult position. And she can't really decided what she wants either, first she wanted to come yesterday and today she said she still needs some days to think. I'm there to support my brother. And I'm somewhat glad that I'm not in Germany. Moving to Sweden, moving away from my dysfunctional family was the best decision I've ever made.

Some days ago I thought that I didn't want to meet a psychiatrist. I didn't see the point because I don't want to try any more antidepressants at the moment. I'll only end up in hospital if I do. Really, if I try new antidepressants, I want to be in the hospital in the first place, so I'm safe. I always get extra-suicidal in the beginning. Anyway, I think I need some other sleepingpills. The Propavan is making me tired the next day and it still doesn't make me sleep properly. And I don't want to take Zoplicone every night because I really don't want to get addicted to it. Maybe there are some other pills out there? I remember taking a sleepingpill that made me psychotic, I can't remember the name though. Damn.

Tomorrow T will come over. If I tell him about what has happened with my cousin, I'm sure he'll suggest that I get admitted to the hospital. And I'll say no. And we'll both be grumpy. I really wish I could somehow cancel my appointment with him. But I know I shouldn't because he's the only help I'm getting right now. Blah.

I'll watch Dowton Abbey now and exercise while watching it. My boyfriend will come home in an hour. I'll have to re-dye my hair and cook some dinner. Keeping busy. I haven't left the flat for 22 days now. Is that something to be proud of?

(It smells like barbecue, I'm getting hungry. I'm jealous of the people down there at the beach with their barbecues. I should get on the balcony and stare at them angrily. Haha)

I can't handle it, it's TOO MUCH, I'm losing it

I'm so exhausted! It feels like I have partied all night, drank at least 10 bottles of beer, smoked two packs of cigarettes and then slept for like an hour. In reality I've slept five hours, tortured by nightmares, constant waking-up and a restless body. I haven't exercised for two days. I have become totally passive. I've somehow become a ghost, just sitting in the soffa, starring at the TV. I'm close to the edge, close to losing it. I can't handle the things going on in my life. A healthy person would probably break down so it's no suprise that I'm a wreck.

The whole situation with my parents hasn't improved. My brother went there to talk to them and both my mum and dad pretended to be okay. But I talked on the phone with my mum yesterday and she was crying and didn't know what to do. I told her to be reasonable and to THINK. She is a very passive person who often just waits problems out and hopes that they will somehow go away. But I, my siblings and every one else think that she has to go and save herself. My father can't be controlled and he can explode in rage easily. I'm really afraid that he will kill her. I understand that she has trouble leaving it all, everything they have built up together. She comes with the lamest excuses for not packing her bags and leave. So I tried to talk some sense into her. Things will only get worse, especially if she has been to the lawyer and filed for divorce. She has friends, she has family, a lot of people have offered her help so she just has to call someone, pack her bags and get out of there. I'm so worried. I hate this drama. I hate my father. And I hate that I let myself be effected by this so much.

And if that isn't enough, my cousin contacted me via Facebook yesterday and told me that she was standing on a bridge and seriously considering to jump. She contacted me because I am familiar with suicidal thoughts and urges. I didn't even know where she was so I couldn't contact the police. I mean, I knew she was somewhere in Austria but not specifically where in the country. You see, she is Iranian, lives in Italy but her boyfriend lives and works in Austria. She has gone through a lot of shit during the last ten years. A divorce, a custody battle for her daughter that has been going on for five years now and so on. Anyway, I tried to be calm and replied honestly. I didn't want her to feel like I was persuading her into something. I basically told her that I often come to the conclusion that I don't know how tomorrow will be, I don't know anything about the future and it could get better. I'm not talking about fooling yourself, I personally know that I'll never be "cured", but I know that I can have happy moments. I told her that she needs professional help. I talked with her for an hour, she texted from her phone. I tried out to get to know where exactly she was but she didn't want to tell me. Eventually she left the place and went home to her boyfriend (ex? he has cheated on her). And she promised me to contact a friend who is a doctor. And this morning I got a text saying that she has spoken to her friend and that they will meet up on Monday and figure something out. I personally think she should be admitted to the hospital. And she needs to be evaluated, blood-tests and all that. And she should be on medication, she has suffered from depression for years but was always afraid that taking psych-meds would negatively effect the fight for the custody of her daughter, that it would somehow shine a negative light on her if she had mental issues.

I had a proper breakdown after we finished talking. And then my mum called and we talked for an hour. After that I just broke down in my head, hysterically crying, shaking. It was all TOO MUCH to handle for me. I get why cousin contacted me, I mean, we usually don't talk much. But she knew that I wouldn't judge her and I have experience with these things, and well, I'm still alive so I somehow must have strategies to get through suicidal periods. But honestly, I don't. I end up in hospital, I get pumped full with medication and professionals try to talk to me. So I'm not angry at my cousin. I'm glad that I could help her and I'm glad that she's still alive. But all this just broke me. I had to take a sedative (I hadn't taken one in over 6 months!!) and unfortunately it didn't help as much as I hoped it would. It's only Oxazepam after all. But it calmed me down a little, my phsycial anxiety-symptoms didn't disappear but my thoughts got clearer, I could think properly.

So I just had lots of pizza and ice-cream and watched a movie. Then I took both Propavan and Zoplicone and hoped for a good night's sleep. Which I didn't get. I really don't care about exercising and routines right now. I'm in no state for that. I have to survive, this is fucking crisis-time. So I'll try to eliminate my vulnerabilites. I'll try to do things I like.

But there are so many musts. And I know that I feel worse if I don't follow my routines in the long run. But just give me this weekend. I need this weekend to be about survival, no mondane stuff like exercising or doing the dishes. I'll start over on Monday again. Next week I'll maybe even finally go to that hobby-store so I can start with some DIY with my clothes. Oh, and I ordered tons of stationary yesterday because I'm running low on it. I think I bought like 5 kg and paid around 90 Euros. But it made me feel good, now I don't need to buy stationary for a year or so. Still, I need to get my ass to that hobby-store next week.

And I hope I won't do anything stupid this weekend. I really feel tired, tired and exhausted. Of life. I really just want to rest forever. I want to make it all go away. I need to fight.

Darkness on my mind

I wish I could write about something inspiring and  fun. But really, I'm still doing like shit. Anxiety. Tired. Indifference. Depression. Sad. Helpless. Passive. I wish I was a drama-queen, I could just throw a tantrum. Scream out my feelings, hit something, show how bad I'm feeling. But I'm silent. I'm chatting with a friend, talking about nonsense-topics, talking about how accents and dialects can be attractive and sexy. I should tell him that I need help. I should tell him that I'm not okay. But I don't. I fake-laugh at his comments and play the game.

I haven't heard from my mother in two days. She last told me on Skype that she doesn't want to talk, that she needs rest, that she's going to stay in the house. I could call but what if my dad answers? I don't want to be bothered by this but I'm worried sick. This all really couldn't have come at a worse time for me. I've already been down before they decided to split up. And not telling me what's going on is really only making things worse. Maybe he's threatening her? Maybe she has somehow decided to play by his rules again? I don't know what is going on. 

I met my social worker yesterday. I've been honest to him, told him about how I'm feeling, about my thoughts. When I'm feeling bad my brain convinces me that my deranged thoughts are logical. I have this thought that somehow makes sense to me: If I was dead, I wouldn't be a burden to anyone anymore. Sure, people would be sad for a while but they would get over it. Then they had one less problem to worry about, after a while it would probably feel like a relief to them. And at the moment I'm also convinced that 1. I don't deserve help because I'm just a pain in the ass and I only cause problems and 2. No one can help me anyway, I'm a lost cause. T of course suggested that I should get admitted to the hospital which I strongly said no to. I think I worried him and I might have opened the gates to hell, a hell he doesn't want to be a part of. I'm ashamed, I shouldn't have told him these things. 

He had contacted the leader of the psycho-dynamic team and I'm on the waiting-list after all. It's a waiting-list for some evaluation-meetings. They evaluate if this therapy is suitable for you. But I won't be hearing from them until the late summer/early fall. What am I supposed to be doing until then? They told him about some kind of 24/7 help-line at the center that I can call. But I know myself, I won't call. I might get a meeting with a psychiatrist next month. I don't know why that should be helpful. Meds haven't helped me so far. I avoid sedatives because I have been brainwashed, I have been told so many times that they are bad for you so I don't take them. Blah.

I haven't been out of the apartment for almost three weeks. Not a step outside the door. My boyfriend does errands without me having to ask for them. He's bored and he wants to have something to do. So he fetches my packages from the post-office, buys birthday-gifts I should be getting and does the grocery-shopping. I guess that's good but it really doesn't make things better for me, if I don't get out my social anxiety will only get worse. But who cares. 

I'm a mess. I'm always just a fucking mess. 

Family hell - my parents are getting divorced

I don't feel well. There is a huge chaos in my head. And at the same time I'm somehow indifferent. Or maybe it's just dissociation. I don't want to feel so my brain just shuts down. But in general I'm an anxious mess. There are too many bad things happening in my life right now, I don't know if a healthy person would be able to cope.

My parents are getting divorced. I don't think I've written anything about my family on this blog, there might be something about them in my "About Me"-section. I'm not close to my family. My father is from Iran, he's an opium-addict and violent. He used to beat me a lot when I was a child. He also abused me verbally. I'm quite convinced that his behaviour is the main reason for my mental illnesses. I only stayed in contact with him because he was living with my mum and I didn't want to cause any trouble or arguments.

My mother is a sweet but passive person. She's somehow living in denial, she just blocks out a lot of bad things. She's pretending that her life is perfect. But my dad has been beating her since the beginning of their relationship 40 years ago. She just couldn't get herself to leaving him. That's really one of the things I'll never forgive her, that she stayed with him although she knew that he was beating us children. Anyway, my mum has now realized that she wants some fun in her life, go to concerts, go to the movies, travel and all that. And she has found the internet and loves chatting with people. 

My dad doesn't get it all and doesn't want to change his life. He has started spreading rumours about her, talking to me and my siblings, telling us that she has dementia, that she is cheating on him, that she is selling her body. What the fuck?!? So some days ago he told her that he wants a divorce. Really, she should have left him a long time ago and now he wants a divorce?!? He's being a real asshole about it all. He told her that she has to move out when she told him that it's her parents' house, he slapped her. He has started moving money around so he won't have to pay her anything. I guess he is used to Iranian laws where the woman doesn't get any money. 

I'm quite sure that all this is going to turn into some kind of war. My dad is totally convinced that he has the right to everything. My mum is just scared right now. I have told her several times that she should pack some bags and move to her brother for a while. I don't trust my father, he might just kill her in rage. I really could see that happen. I understand that moving to her brother would mean a break from the life and the standard she has had for decades but really, it could be saving her life.

So I'm worried as fuck. I don't want to be pulled into this. I don't want to have anything to do with it. It's not like I'm neutral, I hate my father. But still, I can't handle this. My sister is bascially saying the same thing. So, how do I cope with this? I also have to worry about not having any psch-help right now. And my boyfriend is home sick with pneumonia. This is too much for me.

It couldn't have gotten any worse (hate!!)

On Wednesday I had my appointment with T, my social worker. My boyfriend was at home. I had been feeling close to panic all morning so it was quite hard for me to keep myself together and not freak out while talking with T. We sat in the kitchen, talking about something unimportant. My boyfriend comes in and blasts out that I really should talk with T about my worries concerning the psych-office and how I don't have any contact with psychiatrists or therapists right now. At that moment I really hated my boyfriend. I have to be able to do things my way and to find the right moment to ask for help. I don't just ask for help or tell people about my worries, problems and anxieties. I felt so embarrassed, I just wanted to disappear. I can't really describe the feeling. I had the strong urge to run out of the room, lock some door behind me and hide. My boyfriend is someone who wants to fix things right away. I can't do that. I need to find the right moment. I need to be confident enough and I need to be in a good place so I can handle backlashes, unfriendly people and possible embarrassment. And I wasn't in that place at that time.

So T called the psych-center. I didn't want him to, I just wanted him to leave. But he called. I wasn't ready for any backlashes. I often prefer not knowing to knowing. I want to know the truth and be able to move on and find new solution. But I want to be ready for it, I want to be ready for the truth. I wasn't ready on Thursday. Soooo, T called and of course he got connected to some super-stressed and unfriendly nurse. The one I also always tend to get on the phone when I'm calling. She checked my journal, and here it comes, : I'm not on any waiting-list. Ka-boom. In my face. I won't get any help any time soon. Fuck. my stupid idiot ex-therapist told me that she had fixed it and that I'm on the waiting-list for psychodynamic therapy. But she apparently lied. I wonder if she lied about updating my file as well and it still stays that I have Borderline.

You know, I have done DBT for a year because some doctor decided that I had Borderline Personality Disorder. I did the therapy but it didn't help me at all. I kept questioning my diagnosis. And I finally got a new evaluation in December/January. And I had been right, no Borderline, but instead two other personality disorders, four anxiety disorder and PTSD. The psych-office changed management and my therapist (DBT-one and the one that did the evaluation) quit. Our last appointment was in February. My psychiatrist quit too by the way.

There is no real solution right now. I'm still registered at that office. T tried to book me in for an appointment with a psychiatrist so I could get some papers I need and I can discuss my medication. But she couldn't say when I could have an appointment. And the she hung up. T promised me to call the leader of the psychodynamic team yesterday and then contact me. And he didn't contact me. So yeah, I guess he couldn't get it fixed. 

So how do I feel? I'm pissed off. I have spent three months at a closed psych-unit last year. I have seven(!!!) psychiatric diagnosis and still, they forget about me?!? I should be prioritized in their fucking system, especially because of all my suicide attempts last year. And then I feel like I'm maybe not worth any help. Maybe there are people that need the help more than me. Maybe I'm a lost case and they decided they just wait until I have killed myself so I'm not their problem anymore. I have always had trust-issues and I have met a lot of bad, mean and imcapable psychiatrists and therapists. And somehow I often feel like no one can help me. I'm too complicated, it's me that is wrong. I'm a lost case and they have given up on me. To sum it up: I'm pissed off and really really down. If there is no help out there for me, and I know that I can't improve on my own, why do I continue fighting? Maybe it would be best if I just killed myself. No more pain for me and one less problem for the psych-people.

*yawn*

I'm so tired. As always I guess. My cat woke me up this morning, at 8.30 a.m. I think I got around five hours of sleep. You know, I need around 9 hours to feel okay and rested. So you can imagine how tired and drained I'm feeling right now. The last three days have been TERRIBLE!! But there have actually been some reasons for it. When I met my social worker I was in panic during the whole time, I was trembling and tried not to say too much. I've become really afraid of being sent to hospital against my will. So I'm pretending to be okay. Although I have been badly suicidal, fantasized about my death and felt a great relief at the thought of it all being over soon.

But today I'm feeling alright, although I'm tired. I had a good morning and I guess that made my vulnerabilities weaker. I received a package with clothes that I had ordered. Walking into the kitchen, seeing a package on the table with your name on it, that's just awesome! Then my boyfriend and I had a lovely breakfast with scrambled egss, bacon and strawberries. We sat on the balcony for hours, drinking coffee, enjoying the lovely summer-weather. We exercised together (him on his running-machine, me on my exercise-bike), we had a yummy salad for lunch. And now he's watching TV and I think I'll join him soon. Or maybe I'll go to the balcony again, with a book and my mp3-player. I'm trying to think of the "now", DBT-style. It's funny, I hated doing the DBT because I don't have Borderline Personality Disorder. I had been misdiagnosed and I got forced to do that therapy. Anyway, I hated it really badly. But nowadays I realize that there are a few, a very few, things that I actually try to use to make myself feel better. Things that I have been taught in the DBT. Like to think of the now if I'm too worried about the past or the future. I hate short-sighted actions, I always think that the bigger picture should be taken into consideration. But sometimes I just can't grasp the bigger picture, it gets too overwhelming, I get overly worried so I just focus on what's happening at this very moment. And right now I don't want to think about what has happpened during the last two days.

Later I'll have some frozen yoghurt and I think we'll watch some movies. And hopefully I can sleep tonight and my stupid (lovely, cute, adorable) cat doesn't wake me up early in the morning again. Gah, I am so tired!

Every day is exactly the same

I think I'm feeling a bit better today. But the anxiety is really getting on my nerves. I find it annoying if people ask me if something has happened. Most people feel sad or anxious because something bad has happened to them or they are worried about a certain thing. But if you are mentally ill nothing has to have happened. It can hit you without any cause, without any reason. I have lots of reasons for being down but there is no particular reason for why I'm feeling like shit right now. It just happens. It would be somewhat nice if something shitty has happened, it would be easier for me to grasp and to do something about it. Do you know what I mean? Let's say someone you love has died. You are crying, you feel helpless, you are really sad. But it's supposed to be that way. You know the "why". It feels so pathetic to feel like shit for no reason at all. I feel like shit because I suffer from mental health issues. You don't get much sympathy for that.

I'm trying hard to stick to my routines and to distract myself. It just feels a bit meaningless. I want to do something that matters. I want to do something that brings me closer to the things I aspire. But no, all I'm working on is to survive another day, to reach the evening, take my sleepingpills and the relief that another day has passed. Pathetic. I have so many great ideas and dreams. So many things I would love to do. So many things in the world I want to contribute to. But nope, I'm just getting through my days. Pathetic much? Self-pity much?

I'm quite angry at my social worker. I received three sms from him today, he wants to change the time for our appointment, and he has done that three times now. I get it, I have nothing important to do so it really doesn't matter when comes to visit. But it really feels like he's just moving me around in his calendar, as if I'm not important, as if I'm a a pain in the ass. I've always had difficulties to understand that I deserve something. I don't think I deserve anything. I always feel like others deserve things more than me. Example: at the psych-unit I had a contact person and he came to talk to me a lot. And I felt really guilty about that. I felt like I was taking his time away from other patients. It felt like other deserved his time more than me. Anyway, T is coming over at 1 p.m. tomorrow, I think. I haven't met him in two weeks and I have had some really bad days. But as always I won't talk about that because I'm ashamed and because I don't want him to think that I'm a wuss. Blergh.

I have a really lovely moment today. Sometimes I feel like a little kid who is experiencing things for the first time. And today my cat sat next to me on the balcony. I was smoking a cigarette and she was smelling some flowers we planted some days ago. And I looked at her and I suddenly felt a strong love for her. I was so happy that I own a cat. I was totally amazed by her awesomeness, her beauty. I couldn't stop looking at her. I wanted to hug her so hard. I was close to tears. I love having such moments!

My stupid roommate is playing rave-shit-music. Our walls are way too thin. It's a vibrating bass and it's getting on my nerves. I'm trying to listen to Suede's new album but the boom-boom-boom is disturbing my experience. Grgh. I think I'll exercise soon, then I'll dye my hair (the red on the sides) and then read a bit. My boyfriend won't come home for another two hours. Please let this day be a good day.

I don't want to want to die

I'm close to panic right now. I feel like pacing up and down the hallway. I know what's going on and at the same time I don't know. I have had fantasies about the hospital. About how safe I felt there. About how much attention I got. About how people actually tried to help me. Those fantasies put me back into the state I was back then. I feel suicidal, anxious and helpless. But this is how I have felt most of my life. But every time I got locked up it was just a tad worse. I usually have control, some kind of ignorance. I'm good at pushing away my feelings and my thoughts. My number one weapon is distraction. Do something so you don't have to think. Do something so the thoughts can't come out. So I read, I cook, I clean, I write. And I hope, I hope that all the bad stuff will leave me alone.

But today I'm thinking and feeling all the bad stuff. I feel helpless and hopeless. I want everyone to just leave me alone and let me die. I don't think it will ever get any better. I don't want to fight. The anxiety is so strong that I'm really close to panic, to just bursting into tears and screaming. And I think that's where the fantasies come in. I was in this state every time I got admitted to the hospital. And then I got admitted and people at least tried to give me help and hope. Right now I'm totally without help. There's no one who is responsible for my care. Even though I used to feel that no one could help me someone at least tried. And that made everything a little bit better. It didn't give me hope but it gave me some kind of rest because I wasn't alone in fighting my demons. 

Maybe I suffer from Stockholm Syndrome? Maybe I like the people that kept me locked up? No, I don't like them. Although I fell a bit in love with one of the doctors at the psych-unit. He eventually had to stop treating me because we had become friends and he felt like it was influencing his judgement. He was young so I guess he still had to learn. I hope we'll get in touch some time in the future again. I miss him. Anyway, maybe this can't be seen as Stockholm Syndrome as I was getting help and no one had done any violence to me. Though, psych-meds can be seen as instruments of torture.

I am just really a mess today. I don't want to want to die. Blah. My social worker contacted me today and he wants to meet me on Wednesday. I was close to saying no. He doesn't help me, he is friendly and nice but he really doesn't have the tools to help me. I don't want to meet him. I want to be left alone. At the same time I really want to scream for help. It's the same with the psych-center. I don't want to contact them because that would mean I'd have to fight for my rights, I'd have to be a pain in the ass. I am not good at demanding things. I don't want to be seen as a diffcult person. I don't want to be in the way. But at the same time, I need fucking help. I don't even believe anymore that I'm on some kind of waiting-list. They have probably just forgotten about me. If I ever write a suicide-note again (I have written several of them in the past), I'll mention them. I'll mention that they didn't help me. I'll mention that psych-patients don't have the strength to fight for themselves and that they have to do follow-ups. Damn it!

I don't want to be me.

Alone at home

I'll be alone at home for most of the day. I'm not too sure if that's good or bad. I think it will be nice to have some me-time but I'm also quite aware of the fact that it could lead into total chaos. For some weird reason I have the urge to be destructive, to cut myself or something. But as I really only have cut myself about 10 times in my life or so I really don't think it will happen. I often have the urge though. It's mostly because I have so strong anxiety and I want the pain to be killed by another pain. Sometime it's just a strong self-hate and I want to cut myself because I feel like I'm a bad person and I need to punished.

The last few days have been terrible. The lack of sleep just made me supervulnerable. But last night I took a small overdose of sleeping-medication and slept for 7 hours. It's not like I'm full of energy but for once I don't feel like I'm caught in some kind of fog. I think I'll take a nap later. I ordered lots of clothes yesterday, I am not too sure if that had to do with the amount of sleepingpills in my system. But all the things I ordered were cheap and things I had thought of buying anyway. I ordered two jackets (I have no summer-jacket that fits, they all really cut into my arms and I don't feel comfortable in them at all), one dress, a bra, a tunica with an Elvira-print and a Vampira-t-shirt. All things I need! Okay, the last two items not so much. But I wanted them so them and have been looking at them for weeks. And I got some procent off, so why not.

My boyfriend is out. He's first going to meet a friend for a beer and then they'll go to some kind of class-reunion (they do that quite frequently) to have some dinner and get drunk. I'm sure he'll call me later to put some money into his account so he can take a cab home. That's what happens every time. Haha. P is going out in an hour or so, to the first outdoors rave of the season. That's an interest I really don't share, rave-music. But he seems excited. Good for him.

I'll just read, write emails and letters, read some more, watch some TV, finish an essay and exercise. And listen to loud music. I just hope that I won't crash. I need to get away from the urge to hurt myself. I am invited to a birthday-party tonight but who am I kidding, I can't go there on my own. It would have been cool though, I really like J. He's from Finland and the calmest person I know. I met him in 2006 for the first time and I couldn't speak a word of Swedish back then. Last year he had been admitted to the psych-hospital and we were quite close for a while. He texted me frequently and I tried to help him as much as I could. Like telling him to not take Effexor because it's a medication from hell and it's difficult to stop taking it. I ran into him last Sunday at the Fields of the Nephilim-concert but we only talked for a brief second. I think he was drunk. Anyway, I'll text him later to tell him that I won't come. 

Time for another cigarette and another cup of coffee. I know, my life-style is incredibly healthy. 

I want harmony in my head

I think I'm soon going crazy because of this annoying insomnia and sleep deprivation. I can't think straight, I'm vulnerable and totally unmotivated. My cat woke me up this morning, at 8 a.m. So I had around 3 hours of sleep. I just couldn't fall asleep last night and my thoughts were totally out of hand. I was fantasizing about getting admitted to the hospital, how safe it would feel, how they'd try out new meds so I could finally put my fucking brain to rest. 

So today isn't much of a better day than yesterday. I'm immensly tired. I'm anxious. I'm somewhat annoyed. It doesn't help that my boyfriend has decided to stop taking his sleepingmedication. So he's really irritated and vulnerable as well. We fought about where the cheese should be in the fridge. Now that's one mature and totally justified fight. Not. I usually don't fight but I can get really sarcastic and people can get quite angry at me. I almost never scream, shout or throw things. I'm mostly waiting for the fight to get over. But sometimes I just can't keep my mouth shut and I say some sarcastic comment. My boyfriend is a shouter and he can get really really mean. I often break down after our fights because he had said so many mean things that really broke my heart. I know, he said those things in anger but he should really try to control himself. 

We have planted some flowers on the balcony. And a lemon tree. I have always wanted a lemon tree so I'm really excited about that one! 

Other than that I have been listening to Sopor Aeternus, read a lot of news on the internet and had heaps of coffee. I think I'll try to exercise soon. Although I don't think it will be good for my body with the lack of sleep and all. 

I'm still sad. Incredibly sad. I want a break from everything. I just want vacation from my mental illness. People can go on vacation to get away from their jobs and every day lives. I wish I could do the same with my mental issues, just leave them at home and spend a week somewhere else. But nope. I can never get away from this shit. Maybe that's why I'm sad. I just don't want to live with my problems anymore. I want a "normal" week, a week where I can be myself. I don't even know who I am anymore because my personality is totally infected with anxiety and depression. I have two personality disorders after all. I'm really fucked up.

I'm a fucking loser

Yeah, I'm a loser. I cancelled my week. Bascially just decided that I'll let anxiety and depression win and do nothing else than feeling sorry for myself. I'm really a prisoner of my feelings. I've given up for now. I don't care. I don't want to. 

I'm so sad. I'm sad about the misery that is my life. I'll never be someone that I'd respect. I'll always be this parasitic loser. Who am I kidding, I don't have the strength to fight for my life. Right now I just feel like nothing will ever get any better. How can it get better? I have no strength, I have no willpower, I have no one that can help me. I doubt I'll ever hear back from the psych-center unless I call them and fight for my right for a therapist and a psychiatrist. I don't have the strength to fight. And what am I supposed to fight for anyway? I don't think that there's any help that can actually change my life around. I'm too fucked up. Right now I feel like the best option is just wait for death to take me. Life just isn't for me. I didn't chose this life, I didn't freaking chose to be born. I'm just a product of evolution and free will is just an empty promise. The only thing I can have control over is how and when I die, unless life fucks me over and I'll be killed by some terrible accident or illness. 

No worries, I won't kill myself. At least not today. I don't have the strength to even think of my options. I'm just really really sad. I want everyone to leave me alone. Mr. Handsome Angst and Miss Pretty Suicidality are dancing the tango in my head. 

I lied to my social worker and said that I was okay that we don't need to meet up this week. My boyfriend is so busy with some computer game that he doesn't see how I'm feeling. My roommate is busy with his toothache. I should scream out loud that I'm not okay. But shame on me, I don't want anyone to know. I don't want to steal their time and I don't want their concerns. I'm actually quite convinced that I'd be sent to the hospital. FUCK. 

So I'm trying to not let it show. I'll take a shower soon. I don't care about exercise. Then I'll cook some food. And then I'll just stare at the TV-screen for the rest of the day. I'm somewhat glad that I don't have any strength, otherwise I'd already done something stupid. My only hope: that this day will go over soon and that I'll wake up tomorrow with less anxiety and more strength. Strength to fight on, strength to see a future, strength to see the beautiful things in life.

Now the two guys are going out to do some grocery-shopping. That will give me some time to cry. I don't cry in front of others. I hate getting negative attention, you know, when people look at you with pity and but secretly think that you are a loser and whiner. 

So, no Ben Okri tonight. No party on Saturday. No meeting with my social worker. Just being at home, feeling sad and anxious. Maybe, only maybe, I'll go to the hobby-store and buy some stuff so I can work on my patches. But I doubt I'll do that. 

Oh, and I have my period. I feel dirty, disgusting and just blergh. Maybe a shower will help. And some painkillners for the cramps. I'm proud though, I don't and I won't eat any sweets or chocolate. Unless my boyfriend buys home something. I hope he won't.

Life is a sexually transmitted disease

Another night filled with nightmares, constant waking up and lots of cigarettes and camomille-tea. I guess I just need to accept that I'll never get a good night's sleep again. Isn't that what DBT teaches? Get used to your misery, that's just the way it is.

I haven't done much today yet. I have watched some documentaries on youtube about the WGT. That's a huge gothic-festival in Leipzig, Germany. Around 25.000 people come there every year for 5 days. I wish I could go this year. I have been there a few times and it was so awesome each time. So many beautiful people, so much great music. I think I would go if I could afford it this year. I'd just take lots of sedatives and  have a great time. Oh well. 

My boyfriend went to the cemetery. He and his sister and his cousin just wanted to visit the family grave today. I like cemeteries, but really only the old gravestones and statues. I didn't feel like visiting his family's grave, see him cry. I'm doing bad enough already. And it was a spontanous decision anyway. I'm not someone for spontanity. I want to know about things at least a day beforehand so I can mentally prepare. His sister has social anxiety and he suggested that they'd have a coffee somewhere afterwards but she couldn't be persuaded. That's one of the things my boyfriend doesn't get: that going out and having a meal or even a cup of coffee around other people can create anxiety. 

For me it's like this: when I drink a cup of coffee out in a café I'm getting bombarded with fears and thoughts. 1. I need to pay. What if my credit card doesn't work? What if I drop my wallet and I'll look all clumpsy?

2. Do I take a piece of cake or a cookie? People will think that I really shouldn't because I'm already fat enough. They will judge me, shake their heads and think that I deserve to look like this because I'm eating cake when I'm out 

3. Walking with your coffee and cake to the table. What if I drop the cup or the plate? What if I spill? People will laugh at me. They will judge me.

4. Sitting. I need to talk to the person I'm with. How the heck do I eat and talk and not look disgusting. I need to concentrate on chewing with my mouth closed. What if I get any crumps on my clothes, around my mouth? Drinking coffee: what if spill. I hope it isn't too hot so I burn myself and spit it all out.

5. Coffee: it can give me a panic attack. I have had panic attacks because of coffee before. I'm worried all the time that I could get a panic attack. And well, that often leads to a panic attack.

6. Drinking coffee leads to having to pee. Or even worse, doing number 2. The worst case scenario: I have to use a public bathroom. Once I got locked in a public toilet, at McDonald's. The lock was messed up and just didn't want to open up. Sooooo embarrassing. I'm not worried about germs. I can wash my hands, no problem. I'm worried about sounding disgusting when I'm on the toilet. Try to pee silenty. Try not to fart. Try to avoid doing number 2. Avoid eye-contact when going out.

7. Leaving the café. Everybody will look at you when you are leaving a place. My thoughts: try to pull your stomach in and put on your jacket quickly. Leave without taking eye-contact with anyone. Just stare out of the door and walk.

Sooo. Drinking coffee or eating in public is a huge problem for me. So I can totally understand my boyfriend's sister. I wish he would understand too.

I'll exercise now. Because I'm a fat whale. No, mostly because I want to keep my routines. Then I'll start cooking so the meal is done when my boyfriend gets home again. I'm already mentally preparing for the event tomorrow: Ben Okri will speak on language and alienation. I want to go, I couldn't forgive myself if I wasn't going. 

On a positive note: I haven't had any thoughts of suicide for about 4 days. That's rare for me. Sure, I have signs of depression. I have anxiety. I have insomnia. I cry. I shake. I really want it all to stop. But I'm not thinking about suicide. And that's good I guess.