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13 November 2011 @ 04:29 pm
Yes they're making lists, are you interested?  

Last night I had one of Those dreams. The ones that go for ages, that are so real and fuck with my emotions afterwards.

Last night, I was driving on some major highway, in a truck. And at some point I was in America, at a reserve where these Navajo Indians were showing me around, and then some people broke in and it turned Lord of the Rings-eqsue, and "rescued" me, and then it was confusing.

Then I was on the highway again, and I stopped out front a store - Bunnings? And I had to get to the chemist across the road (a major major highway that took me forever to walk around). And I had to buy some protection from the sun spray for my hair (wtf? I've never used such a thing before) and some other things. But I walked in, and left, and realised I'd bought the wrong thing. And it always took me to long to walk around the road back to the car and then back to the chemist.

After about four tries of getting the right thing, I started driving again, and Jeremy was in the car, and I drove off a blocked road thing, kind of when you're in Mario Cart and you fly off the edge of the floating roads and I turned to Jeremy and said "oh, we're going to die, I love so you much" and I kissed him really hard. And then I was back in the fucking car, needing to get this stuff from the chemist, so instead of walking I drove over, and parked in a no parking zone, and rushed in, and had to show my ID for some reason. As I came out, there was a parking inspector giving out tickets, and I said "oh, no, please don't give me one!" and realised it wasn't my car, it was a little further up the hill. So I tried to rush up the hill, and got in my car, but just as I did the inspector started writing me a ticket, and I started crying and begged him to not, because I'd spent so long trying to get the right stuff, and I was really upset. He said okay, and wanted to see my ID, but then saw it and said the writing was too small and I'd get a $60 ticket. So I started driving off, and somehow there were people in my car, and I said "I'm sorry, I'm about to cry, can I just let you out?" and I did.

(and then shit got really bad)

I was driving really fast, terribly upset. And suddenly I was back home, and screaming at my mother about all the things she'd done wrong and how she'd fucked up my emotions and hurt me and abused me and neglected me, and she didn't listen. And it felt so awful, so intense, and I started realising I was losing my mind because I was smashing things and throwing things around the house, trying to hurt myself, and I just wanted to cut. And then Jeremy came, but for some reason he'd hurt me or was on my mother's side. And then I found out my mother had taken refuge somewhere and said that P was helping her. And P is the boyfriend of one of my closest friends, Aly, and so I started screaming hysterically at her how she was so awful and terrible and manipulative and how dare she get in touch with my friends, and I felt so alone, and I started thinking I'd have to check myself into the psych ward because I was so off my nut, and I just needed to cut and hurt myself and I was really just insane, and ... there was all this stuff involving her, and I was so upset, and I just wanted to beat the shit out of everyone and I screamed a lot, and was really really upset.

I can't remember how the dream ended. except I woke up really late feeling really tired.

And, I don't know. It's just messed with me a bit. No reason to be angry at my mother, and I'm hardly hung up on my teenage/previous life. Michael came over and asked if I wanted to go to Eastland with him as he got stuff, and while I was there I just felt weird and needed to buy stuff which isn't like me, and I just felt ... odd. Bad odd. I can't really explain it. Just ... when I used to walk around with headphones and sunglasses even inside and giant hoodies and track pants because I just needed to insulate myself from the world - that's how I felt. I don't know why. And now I just feel ... weird. 

I'm meant to be better, right? And now for no reason I want to cut. No, I don't want to, I need to. I actually don't want to. It's not really stress. Maybe too much caffeine, not enough food. I don't know. I don't know what I'm doing. I do, I do - and I'm fine, that's the thing. It's just that turbulence inside my head where I just feel ... unreal. Things feel unreal. I feel so ... not me. Somethingsomeone else. I think it's just because of the dream, but I don't know. I have to do more study today, but this stuff is keeping me on edge.

I remember, before my really severe episode of depression in 2007, I'd been doing all this stuff - studying full time (with an 80%+ average), working part time (20 hours or so a week), writing for the uni paper, been socialising, all this. And I'd started singing lessons, which I loved, but then ... then I got kind of hypomanic, and I couldn't leave the house because I needed to *do* things. I had too many things to do and it kind of froze me from being normal. And that's how I think I am now. Jeremy asked me if I was depressed, and I said no, why, and he said, well, it wasn't like me to leave the house in a mess, or things lying about, which I'd done. And I said it was because I had so much in my head to do, and  that was the first time I thought "oh, that kind of reminds me of that time".

I once read about a guy who had bipolar, and his cycles were about a year long. He'd have one awesome year, and then one shit year. And I think I do get the fast cycling of borderline, but also sometimes the greater cycle of bipolar, which kind of moves slowly going up or down, but as it hits the up/down peak it moves really fast, you know? Like a sine wave, sort of. I often think of my mental state like that. Time being over months, but, yeah. I don't want to go down. I mean, I refuse to. I'll cut if I need to, if it stops bad things.

I can't ruin everything. I've worked so fucking hard, worked really hard to get here, and I'm not going to let my fuckwit brain chemicals fuck shit up. I won't, I won't. I am in control, right?

Small admission: yeah, my daily calorie intake has been quite low. I mean, not *really* low, but ... well, only three days in the past fortnight has it been normal (over 1000) and ... it's about 500-600. And I know that's not good for my brain, but but but you don't have to live in my body. Okay, this is just for a while, until it gets better, okay? And then I'll tell it to leave. I just ... yeah. 

I've actually been really good, apart from this thing last night. I don't know. Tomorrow I'll wake up better. Listen to music and feel okay. I have fairylights in both my living and bedrooms, and just before I go to bed I just turn them on and all other lights off, and it's really nice and relaxing, you know?

Fuck, I need to fill up on petrol. Drat. Anyway.

 
 
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