Wednesday, February 09, 2005

(note: this is a post i wrote on 10/18/04)

day by day i see my bipolar rearing it's ugly head more and more often and today i decided to get more intense help. not just a weekly talk. not just a small amount of meds. i want this shit UNDER CONTROL. i find myself fighting ti every day more and more to the point where it wipes me out and renders me with no energy left to fight it. This weekend was hard. i made it out to the Billy Corgan signing. i made two new friends. i went home and tried to sleep knowing i had the Walk For Diabetes Saturday morning. i was up most of the night. i watched the old Ally Sheedy flick Maid To Order at 4 am. took a shower and went back to attempting sleep. 8:30 i knew i had to go so i got dressed and went. i kept crying. i didn't want to go. i kept thinking how much happier i'd be in bed with Symon and Priddie in bed purring and keeping me comforted. i wanted to listen to Figure 8 and Grace and not think. But i HAD to. and i did. i walked. i ate a banana and met a Pug named DQ for Dairy Queen. i got two bags of STUFF and had a lunch and free Sugar Free ice cream. then i went home.

i called Mike and told him i didn't want to go out. i didn't want to bowl. i was so unhappy and mentally tired i just wanted to do nothing. he agreed we would just meet up Sunday instead. i went out and got things i needed. cat litter, cat food. a cupcake at Whole Foods. some groceries. then i returned home and got into bed. slept and slept and watched some TV and slept more.Cried a lot. tried listening to Figure 8 some more but that started to make me cry. then i listened to TV.i watched the Red Sox get destroyed by the Yankees and felt bad for the Red Sox. i ever cried for them. i don't know why! everything was making me cry. the ASPCA TV show with the story of the kitty that had it's ears cut off made me cry. the PETA commercial with the crying cows dripping blood made me never wanna eat moo cows again. i watched more tv. i somehow fell asleep and woke up at 7 am. i cleaned the apartment. i snagged my Sunday paper before it got stolen. i felt like crying more. i wanted to punch a wall or myselfto stop feeling that way. i tried something new. when i felt angry like that, i picked up Symon or Priddie, and sat down, and held them to me and hugged them. every time. and it helped. symon especially because every time it was like he hugged be right back, and licked my chin as if to say...'Mommie, i love you and it's going to be ok.'

i watched the game last night and the Red Sox won. i was glad for them.

it IS going to be ok.
it HAS to be.


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