All I have to do is get under the covers and go to sleep but I keep fighting it.
I don’t remember what happened in therapy last Wednesday but I do remember vomiting. I hate that. I really do.
My fuse is short anymore.
Words like hate and slash run through my head.
On one hand I’m afraid to die but on the other hand I think I won’t be terribly upset if I’m hit by a train or something. I nearly welcome it. When I’m like this I don’t drive much.
The psychiatrist said my short fuse and quick melting point may be due to adding Wellbutrin. He’s not sure though because I’ve been on it before with positive results. At least this time there aren’t those bothersome sexual side effects. He reduced it by half.
I saw an uncle on TV the other day. Talk about humiliating an already shameful family.
Destiny finally has something all her own. Two of the fish are exclusively hers. She has a Calico Lionhead like this one and a shubunkin like this one.
It just occurred to me that I haven’t seen a lot of Maureen. The condition of my house certainly proves that.
I think about our local football team with anger because I know if they win the Superbowl again our taxes will be even worse than they are now. They won and our taxes sky rocketed. Each game the Colt’s win now increases my worries for the near future. If the Colt’s win the Superbowl again or even make it there at all they’ll bankrupt the average Indiana resident. Football is killing us!!!! Please stop winning; we can’t afford to build anything else for you. We’re still paying for the deep in debt Lucas Oil Stadium as well as hotels. Have mercy on us and don’t go to the Superbowl.
I should sleep. I know I should sleep. I just don’t want to and I don’t want to go to therapy tomorrow.
All I want to do is slap paint around in an angry fashion.
Last night Gus stepped up his service animal skills. I was impressed. I had a hard time and he did something Captain once did. Gus laid on my legs while I was in bed until my anxiety leveled off. I was laying down, kind of rocking back and forth, kinda on the edge of things when Gus got up from the floor and laid not across my body but on my legs. He put his head on my hip and had his body length wise on me. I fell asleep that way.
I’ve cried more in the last 2 weeks than I have in months.
I’m not sure where I’m headed or if I even want to go.
Thinking – Monday, December 07, 2009 – 4:19AM EST
Good for Gus.
Would slapping paint around in an angry fashion help? Could it be an outlet for all the emotions?
He’s a good boy.