Who makes you feel the most alone, completely alone as an addict?
Other people or yourself?
You might piss off a lot of people. You could really hurt them. Being an addict has unbelievable power to destroy every relationship with every person you know.
But the one that makes you feel alone, completely alone is you.
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Yep. Lots of reasons but I’ve finally peaked. Or sunk. Rock Bottom.
Emergency trip to Sweetie GP tomorrow. She knows I hate hospital, but she also knows, I know when I need to go. I never go. I’ll be fine.
Well, she’ll be in for a surprise–and not a good one. I don’t know which will make her my roommate on the ward first. The fact that her Star Patient can’t even manage to get herself willingly to hospital? Or all the shit she’s been doing recently. Very recently.
That could have possibly killed her? But she wouldn’t have known. Passed out. Too drunk.
This is the first time (barring the first) I’ve been scared to go to hospital. Actually, I think it’s worse since I’ve had so many after the first. I’m terrified. A bit? Yeah?
Because I have to confront something that has destroyed so much in my life. And I’ve been in denial about it for 20 years.
probably definitely made me more sick and more crazy with every diagnosis I have.
P.S. If I can swing it I found a form to get to greatest place I ever stayed. Maybe Sweetie GP can push for it.
P.P.S I did manage to call Non-Arsey Neuro and explain. It’s not what Harvard has done with her medication work. Her moods have been fine and still no seizures since the beginning of August. She explained everything and the most important (which WILL be on the form!)
Don’t fuck with this patient’s meds! We’re finally making progress from debilitating epilepsy, for two years or more or whatever. I’ll be screaming, “CALL MY GODDAMN NEUROLOGIST!!!”
So sorry haven’t been around much. Too busy destroying my life again.
I hope I can get in soon. Can’t believe I’m actually saying that about going to hospital. PA=TROUBLE.
Wow. Surprised I could write this but I have to get my brain going. Fight or Flight? Or Fright.
I found out. The person from my post earlier today is still alive. Hospital. Pretty sick I think, but gonna make it. Still waiting for updates.
Want to talk to them as soon as I can. It was the strongest feeling I
Yes, quite a title that. Not enough room for all the really insane things I’ve been doing straight since the morn’. I want to sleep. Right. Sure. I want to stop shaking. Valium?
Breakfast: A tin of fizzy water, Gravol and cigarettes. Oh, meds too.
Lunch: Valium and cigarettes.
Have I reached a breaking point? I’ve been crying about it before. Now I just can’t stop. My T-shirt is covered in so many tears, it’s actually making me cold. Turn up the heat.
The first phrase is true. I’ve been that way for a bit, but it’s been increasing exponentially. So much, that I haven’t even left the house for almost a week. I think I’ve changed my pyjama bottoms.
Because, that’s almost as long ago as when it happened. And I can’t hear back from them. And now I’m so unbelievably, incredibly upset to turn on my goddamn mobile when its battery dies, because I KNOW there won’t be emails, txts, anything.
YES!!! HATE ME LATER if you read this, but I lost it somewhat less, when I unconsciously realized it a few days ago.
The first time I “was on the other end of the ca…” BUT DON’T YOU DARE SAY I WASN’T UPSET TO BE THERE!!! YOU CAN HATE ME FOR THAT, BUT I’LL HATE YOU RIGHT BACK!!! I NEED YOU TO CALL ME WHEN YOU’RE IN TROUBLE!!!
…i was only reminded of the times i did it to so many others and felt like total shit and…(oh, dear god, the one in the other country! now i know how you felt! this person is in another country too! i wish i could tell you, the one who…) *filled to brim with different kind of pain*
I got a txt. 1.5 hours of (whether you believe it or not) “psychic“ and other psychological means, of getting a friend through not committing suicide.
The psychic stuff would be a whole other post. I still may not be able to prove it to you, but ever since I was a wee sprite! The stories I could tell you.
It worked? As far as I can tell. Some stuff taken but not enough for an OD. However two days later, just how part of the communication has always worked for me. I missed something over the phone! Dammit!
As mentioned above, this person is not in the same country. I cannot reach them. At all. Period.
This person needs time to recover after overwhelming and traumatic events. This I know. This I also know: it has been the longest length of time where we have not been in contact after they taken time to recover–at least to say something. Although, I would say THIS event would be considered VERY traumatic?
I also know what this person says too. Every single time they are gone to take a break and recover.
Even with a plethora of a plethora of emails and txts I sent, HATE ME FOR THOSE!!! HATE ME BY OVERLOADING YOU, BY CHECKING ON YOU EVERY DAY AND TRYING TO FIND YOU SOMEHOW!!!
This person may be ignoring their mobile and email altogether. Or they may not have access to them. They may not have seen anything I’ve sent them. I’m trying to be patient but waiting this long? SO OUT OF MY MIND!!!
As this person would say, something could be “jamming the signal.” I keep getting a read on the status (alive, dead, hospital?) Then I’m wrong, back to another, or another, or just a blank slate. The twins are either right with me, saying I’m perfectly on target, or lost altogether themselves.
I’ve even given up trying to hone in; asking the twins for their help. But my mind won’t let me! I keep going back. I do keep trying to find or feel something.
Maybe I’m not strong enough, or it’s all too far away–even something jamming the signal on that person’s end. Again, trust me. You get TWO highly elevated psychics together (this person more than me though) and it can be pretty powerful. Not to mention, as far as I’m concerned, too many links in our lives alone that would perfectly balance a seesaw.
Welcome to my headspace right now.
I’ve crossed a bit of a boundary. Maybe more than a bit. Although it might get me an answer?
OH!!! HATE ME FOR THAT TOO!!! HATE ME BECAUSE YOU WILL BE SO MAD THAT I’VE DONE THAT??? WELL, HATE ME FOR LOVING YOU THAT MUCH, EVEN IF YOU THINK IT’S SELFISH!!! IT MIGHT MAKE YOU HATE ME SO MUCH YOU WILL ACTUALLY SPEAK TO ME!!!
This person knows I was going to do this so they ran interference? Bugger!
Whatever the answer, it’s okay! It’s perfectly fine!
I went so mental with all of my diagnoses in the ugliest Easter Basket you’ve ever seen (aren’t they all ugly?) I ended up in the ICU for several days after attempting suicide. Who the hell drew the line there to say yay or nay? I was in a coma after all that time! That’s a pretty bang up job! OD Grade… An A- perhaps?
This person’s clearly gone MIA, my brain’s clearly going (if not already gone MIA.) You already know what’s gonna happen here.
This has taken me right up from the beginning of sunshine to my actual divided afternoon dose of meds. I don’t they’ll make stable as they had been doing before. MIA? Combination of PTSD, Dissociation and total Mania. Oh, the Agoraphobia too. I know the Asperger’s is waiting in the wings. No. here now. Rocking, rocking… Done. Click.
I got a telephone call from my sister late last night. I had already taken my meds so I was mumbling and slurring my speech.
I slowly tried to say, “Oh, if I sound funny, I…”
She immediately cut me off and said, “You sound like you’re drunk!”
My sister always thinks I’m drunk. Yes, 20 years of addiction to alcohol and marrying an alcoholic might do that. But please cut me a little slack? Please?
Back to the call. My sister and I always get along like a continent on fire, but now she was stumbling for words. I somehow felt vindicated. She didn’t know how to tell me, didn’t know what to say over and over again. I told her just to be blunt, spit it out, just tell me!
My mother’s husband died on Saturday, November 02, 2013. Look at the date today, folks. My mom even called me that day. We were briefly talking, she sounded just fine and after barely saying anything, someone was at the door and she said she’d call me back later. Nothing since my sister called.
I thought it was my mom simply being her (undiagnosed) mental self. Nope.
Apparently…it “seems” like she didn’t want to tell me as I’d be too upset about it. OMG! Well, THIS clearly needs to be sorted today!
I’ve been crying all morning. I’m crying while writing this post!
I’m feeling so selfish. She hasn’t called me in a year. YES, a year!!! She ALWAYS calls me on my birthday and this is the first time she didn’t.
Why didn’t I call her? Sure, very sick and lot going on, but what’s a phone call? It’s like, what is sending an email to someone? Even if she rambles on forever on the phone! That was one thing I wanted to avoid.
Her husband started out with Prostate Cancer but after a year what happened? What was the full story?
Okay, I can’t write anymore about this. I feel like I’m dying too.
For the first time in my ENTIRE life, I think I’ll have to say, “I Love You” to my mother–and really mean it. I’m scared about that. I’m a mess.
I “think” I’m feeling a bit better than yesterday. I’m telling myself that title, “This is a bitch!”
I’m trying not to get all of my fucking diagnoses get the better of me. I’ll blow up and it will be time to say, “Goodbye, PA!” Nothing’s triggering me at the moment so that’s a good thing. I think my brain is more concerned with my Neurochemistry. That is also a good thing!!!
Should anything trigger me, I think I could handle it despite Neurochemistry or anything else. After all, it was several triggers that made me drink so much. So much, to get me into this situation of, VERY, UGLY WITHDRAWAL!!! Even more so, I think I might know more about those triggers–not just things that happened on a “surface level” I suppose you could say.
That gives me even more ammo in case anything threatens to make me fall apart. THAT IS A VERY, VERY GOOD THING!!! I can’t guarantee anything here, but at least feeling like this is hopeful? *shakes head and sighs*
I think food helps. Gee. Really? I had a breakfast, cereal bar earlier. Now I’m going to try and shove at least something else into my mouth (and swallow it.)
I actually HAVE to go grocery shopping today. That will be a huge slice of hell!
I had a friend (he’s dead now.) He ALWAYS used this expression: “If you do the crime; you pay the time.”
Words of wisdom.
I was complaining all over Twitter about wanting to make the world shut up so I could crash. Nope. Sorry. This post just has to be written.
I’ve been feeling a bit sick lately. Nothing that’s really knocking me out. I’m just tired all the time. A lot of “fatigue.” I’ve even been running a “fever” on a couple occasions. It wasn’t that high though. I’ve also been getting these “headaches” at night and intermittent “nausea.”
Harvard’s been busy with a lot of changes. It’s amazing that she’s been seizure free since the beginning of August! However, the damn moods!
10 days ago, she dropped a huge Topamax bomb on her brain because the Lamictal increases weren’t working. Bomb? Can’t suffer in manic hell because that’s a huge part of this post!!! The moods desperately needed a massive counter attack!!! They were part of keeping me in this cycle!!!
I am now, (PLEASE, HELP ME NOW!) going to stop drinking!
I was looking in my journal the other day (which I had stopped writing in altogether–that tells you something) and I was astonished. Day after day after day…I had no clue. It can’t be social either. Abstinence.
I remember I made it between 30-45 days or something, quite a while ago, months ago. That felt pretty good. Longest period in my entire life.
Oh! I almost forgot the part about being sick! The “fatigue” and the “fever.” The “headaches” and intermittent “nausea” too. I’m (presumably) going through alcohol withdrawal. Those are all on the list.
It all makes sense medically. Alcohol lowers your GABA and glutamate. It doesn’t matter when you stop, or how much you drink. Then your brain needs to readjust those two neurotransmitters of this one and that one. Establish equilibrium.
Well, how do like me now! With all the med changes, higher levels, the big “Harvard Bomb” 10 days ago. Irrelevant, but I haven’t had a drink in two days. My brain has now become a book where all the pages are black.
Apart from the medical, I’m not physically addicted. It’s all about the psychological. So ANY of my diagnoses can make me run straight for the bottle! That’s tough. Since I’ve got so many diagnoses! *rolls eyes*
Now, Harvard gets to treat this as well! *laughing* Two Diazepam daily (actual prescription is such prn.) Ibuprophen for fevers and headaches. Gravol for nausea. Fatigue? Nothing I can do about that one!
Please read this post as it is an urgent, “Breaking News” update!
I mentioned that I had been passing messages back and forth to a bartender (at the bar the guy and I hang out regularly.)
This bartender is like a brother (a very older one!) a father, a total goofball like me. He’s my bodyguard, a lifeguard, and obviously someone I can trust.
I tried to keep things cool. He played things cool, but between us both knowing each other so well? Me constantly asking about my Croatian friend? At times, I’m sure I looked quite desperate.
The guy hasn’t come back here since the night we met. Odd behaviour for a “regular?”
I’ve practised enough CBT on myself to know what THIS means. Or THAT means?
What do you think?
Cheers! *raises Vodka*
How pathetic is this? Waiting around in a bar for nights when you’ll probably never see him again. I’m actually waiting for him here right now as I type this.
He hasn’t called but that’s the painful part (I’ll get to it–more than a one night stand–pathetic…well, no…?)
Looking around the neighbourhood everywhere you go, doing double, triple, endless takes? If you see someone vaguely resembling him, you have to stifle yourself for actually screaming out his name?
Let me take you back in time a bit. On October 23, 2013 PA took a guy home with her. Surprisingly to both us (I believe!) we had sex.
Now, it is not the first time PA has had sex with guys since she proclaimed herself “gay.” She also hates labels and could go on and on about that. It was just “easier” to label herself that way. Men didn’t “do it” for her on so many levels.
And they’ve never given her an orgasm when having sex. This guy…? Oy!
This “guy.” Totally different (and forget the orgasm where I did have to become a bit of a gymnast.) I hate the word “connection” but a bond and a serious sense of intimacy was formed that night. And I was not “played” in any way. Too many variables and the biggest was that he was Croatian and his English was not very good! I spent a lot of time translating!
But what hurts? The phone call. To be serious friends because we both didn’t really have any. That was pre-arranged before the sex had even existed; not even on the map because the map didn’t even exist itself. The call was for friendship, which he shyly said he would do. Call me for that.
I’m not being selfish. I’m worried about what the hell he’s thinking. Am I being selfish in what the hell he’s thinking? It is of me. Because that is what it all comes down to. All is silent because he’s thinking of me–or at least the two of us.
A friend I met online told me to just let it go. When you get into one night stands and even stranger danger sex, that’s just how it works. It sucks, but that’s how it goes. She knew I was in a lot of pain over it.
Well, the healing process is a bit slow going. Here I am feeling like this. The Lowest of The Low. Begging for scraps in the streets or gutters. Have I reached “Stalker Status?” I’ve already left several messages with a trusted bartender (he and I are both regulars here.)
I woke up crying over him today. Why? *pauses to go for a cigarette while obsessing if he’ll come in tonight*
I don’t know. I guess for me. Not in worry about him. Like my friend said, “Let it go.”
If we cross paths again (we live not far from each other) then we can talk. Otherwise, don’t expect any calls or txts.
“Let it go.”
I just realized I was a bit contrary in this post.
I said that I shaved my head for a lot of reasons. However, I then said I wasn’t going to post a picture as it wasn’t a “sideshow.”
I apologize, folks. When writing the post, I think I was a bit shaken up.
It was the exact day I heard of my friend’s mother’s death from cancer.
Thus, it was the exact day I immediately ran out and shaved my head.
I also did it before even finishing the post.
Here I am. Bald is beautiful. Even more so if you want to read my crazy post above? Yeah, I was a mess that day.