Wow, I just had the greatest two hours of sleep.
Since of my fucking allergies [I highly doubt it to be pneumonia, but it'll be logical, because I'm not overly warm, I'm coughing like crazy and my nose is runny, and I'm very weak, and I wasn't ill for a very long time.] I had a bad time sleeping and resting.
Even with the valerian-passion-fruit capsule and the desloratadine [5 mg] that usually make me sleepy, I woke up at two-three am [I don't remember if the number was 2:12 or 2:51, it was too blurry and I was very tired] and then was in this semi-conciousness state for thirty minutes, and woke up at three thirty.
I couldn't fall back asleep until almost eleven.
Now, at five minutes to one, I'm reporting about my awful body and how it can't function.
My head hurts, my ears are sore from coughing, I sound like I'm faking a French accent when I speak because if I speak differently I'm starting with coughing, same with breathing, my body is tired, and my jaw is numb.
When I said that I'd like to be sick and miss school, I definitely didn't mean it this way!
This morning, I felt like I'm going to die and my body is giving up on me.
I had the tunnel vision I get usually from vitamin deficiency.
I just knew it's a matter of time until I go head-down and fucking lie on the floor.
And it didn't seem that bad, I'd get some rest, finally, just fucking concussion, just like Gaya had, missing a couple of minutes from her life and being very confused.
I also had that shitty thoughts all the time.
I think it was better before I knew what's wrong with me, right now, I'm so fucking confused, that it actually makes sense that I'm about to be fourteen and "official" sufferer of puberty.
Wait, those that mean that it's child depression or teen?
I assume it's teen, because it started at about eleven or so, and I was after my puberty shit then.
Anyway, it's above unfair.
SHIT COULD HAVE BEEN MUCH EASIER.
Just recently I felt shitty about merely mentioning the words "depression" and "depressed" in the past couple of blogging-years.
And now? What? Should I apologise? I remember clearly that I scolded myself with "you're not even depressed! look at you miss fucking sunshine! You disgust me and you're offence for the world" but now what?
Well, I better focus on that I'm not in shalvata, I'm not stressed, and I'm going to a movie soon!
I just hope I'd be able to focus in the movie.
I really hope so.
Worst case scenario that comes up now in my head is that I'm going to start with the medication [highly unlikely] just before this Friday and I'll just be too busy at thinking about everything that has to do with it.
I'm reading about it now as well, falsely hoping it'll make everything easier, I know it won't.
WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.
Prozacs are over a centimetre in diameter and over a centimetre and a half in length.
SO WHAT WILL HAPPEN WITH FUCKING PRIZMA?!
I can't swallow such a big thing, the fear will shut my throat!
But it doesn't make sense, Eden's are way smaller.
I'd more anxious if my body had the power to.
Okay, it's twenty to seven, I've been coughing so hard that I had to use my abdomen muscles so I won't cough out a lung, and the tension in my empty stomach almost made me puke.
If not for my emptiness, I'd be vomiting and feeling even more dead.
The only things I ate were bread with margarine, not because I was hungry, but because I feared that if I won't eat I'd die.
I barely drank because everything tastes stale, so I have to force-feed myself.
I don't want a dinner, but losing weight again because of that shitty appetite I got since shalvata is killing me.
I ate there because I was afraid that if I didn't, they'll make sure to plug me into a feeding tube and keep me in the goddamn unit.
My bones on my fingers hurt.
It's like getting elbowed by Versano or touched by Yael, or Dabush.
They're so bony and they don't even notice it.
I'm so fucking weak now, I wish I could've fallen asleep.
But I fear that nothing will help.
The 5 mg of desloratadine and the small capsule my dad gives me just get me awoken by three am and about to pass out at school time.
I still feel like I'm crumbling.
I just want to fucking die.
I can't bring myself to do anything.
And if the fact that I'm feeling like I'm dying, it's fucking boring, I can't distract myself with food, I don't enjoy really doing anything, I might as well just stare at the well.
Actually, staring at the wall will actually amuse me, because it's so fucking ridiculous.
I just want to understand what's wrong.
I think it's not just allergies.
But the other thing.
Did he told me "depressed" and "anxious just to mess with my mind? Maybe that's what they all did and I'm just a fucking experiment.
You know how I feel about knowing that Keren isn't even a fucking psychologist? She's just an art therapist? LIKE RICK FELT IN A.C.O.D!
Fucking hell.
Okay, maybe soon enough I'd feel better.
I feel like the floor is a very nice bed and I really want to give it a hug.
I'm so fucking tired.
But if I'd fall asleep now I'd wake up at two am.
Well, I'm not sure if I'm hungry, I think I need to sleep.
Since of my fucking allergies [I highly doubt it to be pneumonia, but it'll be logical, because I'm not overly warm, I'm coughing like crazy and my nose is runny, and I'm very weak, and I wasn't ill for a very long time.] I had a bad time sleeping and resting.
Even with the valerian-passion-fruit capsule and the desloratadine [5 mg] that usually make me sleepy, I woke up at two-three am [I don't remember if the number was 2:12 or 2:51, it was too blurry and I was very tired] and then was in this semi-conciousness state for thirty minutes, and woke up at three thirty.
I couldn't fall back asleep until almost eleven.
Now, at five minutes to one, I'm reporting about my awful body and how it can't function.
My head hurts, my ears are sore from coughing, I sound like I'm faking a French accent when I speak because if I speak differently I'm starting with coughing, same with breathing, my body is tired, and my jaw is numb.
When I said that I'd like to be sick and miss school, I definitely didn't mean it this way!
This morning, I felt like I'm going to die and my body is giving up on me.
I had the tunnel vision I get usually from vitamin deficiency.
I just knew it's a matter of time until I go head-down and fucking lie on the floor.
And it didn't seem that bad, I'd get some rest, finally, just fucking concussion, just like Gaya had, missing a couple of minutes from her life and being very confused.
I also had that shitty thoughts all the time.
I think it was better before I knew what's wrong with me, right now, I'm so fucking confused, that it actually makes sense that I'm about to be fourteen and "official" sufferer of puberty.
Wait, those that mean that it's child depression or teen?
I assume it's teen, because it started at about eleven or so, and I was after my puberty shit then.
Anyway, it's above unfair.
SHIT COULD HAVE BEEN MUCH EASIER.
Just recently I felt shitty about merely mentioning the words "depression" and "depressed" in the past couple of blogging-years.
And now? What? Should I apologise? I remember clearly that I scolded myself with "you're not even depressed! look at you miss fucking sunshine! You disgust me and you're offence for the world" but now what?
Well, I better focus on that I'm not in shalvata, I'm not stressed, and I'm going to a movie soon!
I just hope I'd be able to focus in the movie.
I really hope so.
Worst case scenario that comes up now in my head is that I'm going to start with the medication [highly unlikely] just before this Friday and I'll just be too busy at thinking about everything that has to do with it.
I'm reading about it now as well, falsely hoping it'll make everything easier, I know it won't.
WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.
Prozacs are over a centimetre in diameter and over a centimetre and a half in length.
SO WHAT WILL HAPPEN WITH FUCKING PRIZMA?!
I can't swallow such a big thing, the fear will shut my throat!
But it doesn't make sense, Eden's are way smaller.
I'd more anxious if my body had the power to.
Okay, it's twenty to seven, I've been coughing so hard that I had to use my abdomen muscles so I won't cough out a lung, and the tension in my empty stomach almost made me puke.
If not for my emptiness, I'd be vomiting and feeling even more dead.
The only things I ate were bread with margarine, not because I was hungry, but because I feared that if I won't eat I'd die.
I barely drank because everything tastes stale, so I have to force-feed myself.
I don't want a dinner, but losing weight again because of that shitty appetite I got since shalvata is killing me.
I ate there because I was afraid that if I didn't, they'll make sure to plug me into a feeding tube and keep me in the goddamn unit.
My bones on my fingers hurt.
It's like getting elbowed by Versano or touched by Yael, or Dabush.
They're so bony and they don't even notice it.
I'm so fucking weak now, I wish I could've fallen asleep.
But I fear that nothing will help.
The 5 mg of desloratadine and the small capsule my dad gives me just get me awoken by three am and about to pass out at school time.
I still feel like I'm crumbling.
I just want to fucking die.
I can't bring myself to do anything.
And if the fact that I'm feeling like I'm dying, it's fucking boring, I can't distract myself with food, I don't enjoy really doing anything, I might as well just stare at the well.
Actually, staring at the wall will actually amuse me, because it's so fucking ridiculous.
I just want to understand what's wrong.
I think it's not just allergies.
But the other thing.
Did he told me "depressed" and "anxious just to mess with my mind? Maybe that's what they all did and I'm just a fucking experiment.
You know how I feel about knowing that Keren isn't even a fucking psychologist? She's just an art therapist? LIKE RICK FELT IN A.C.O.D!
Fucking hell.
Okay, maybe soon enough I'd feel better.
I feel like the floor is a very nice bed and I really want to give it a hug.
I'm so fucking tired.
But if I'd fall asleep now I'd wake up at two am.
Well, I'm not sure if I'm hungry, I think I need to sleep.
No comments:
Post a Comment