Some days are better than others. Today is certainly not one of those days.
The Doctor, when he prescribed this new medication, did say that things would probably deteriorate quite a lot before they started to get any better, and he was definitely right. I feel rotten. My sleep is getting worse, something I didn't think could happen, and my moods are now so unpredictable that I really don't know what's going on from one minute to the next. It doesn't help of course that without Uni or anything like that, I don't have any structure which I feel obliged to follow; and please don't suggest I get a job, because the way I feel, and the way I am with new things, that just isn't an option. I wish it was, but there's no way I could handle that at present, I just couldn't.
With the short bursts of sleep that I do manage to get, I wake up feeling an even more intense sense of disappointment that the death dream didn't fullfil itself during the night. I've had a death dream on a pretty regular basis for as long as I can remember, and it's always left me feeling at a bit of an anticlimax in the morning: that nagging regret that it didn't happen for real and the hope throughout the day that "tonight it might work". However, as is fairly obvious by the presence of this post, it has never happened, and over the years, although it never went away, I had, I thought, learnt to live with the gutted feeling that lived inside me and took over my thoughts. But then recently it started to become more pressing, a far more active and distracting thought in my mind that I can't seem to work through; nor do I want to if I'm honest.
Well there's not really anything I can do about it except try and practice my bluffing technique for tomorrow so that I don't ruin my Dad's birthday, not something I'm terribly optimistic about, but I do want him to have a nice day.
No comments:
Post a Comment