I actually slept some last night. Granted, I woke up every few hours from a nightmare, but between those period, I actually slept. Miraculous. Let’s count it up…11:30 p.m. – 1:30 a.m. SLEEPING…3:30 a.m. – 5:30 a.m. SLEEPING…6:00 a.m. – 7:00 a.m. SLEEPING. Grand total is a whopping FIVE hours. I’ll take just about anything I can get at this point.
The previous night, I didn’t really sleep at all, but went to Mom’s in the afternoon where she put Quaaludes in my Fresca I am usually able to catch a few hours of sleep. I was passed out on her chaise lounge in the living room for about four hours. Woke up feeling out-of-it and later that evening had a nervous breakdown.
It was not a threatening situation. I was just feeling hopeless and helpless and too dependent on the kindness of others. As I sat with Mom and DHut out on the back deck, staring at their waterfall, it dawned on me that I was a piece of shit and didn’t deserve to go on breathing feeling increasingly depressed due to my inability to function and my necessary reliance on my parents to keep myself from jumping off a bridge.
The feelings intensified to the point where I could not focus on what they were chatting about, and my brain kept screaming at me…”YOU SUCK!!! You big friggin’ baby! Suck it up!” So, I did what any other self-destructive person would do in that situation…I gathered my things and left, blowing off well-wishes from my parents and replying, “Yeah it’ll get better. Yeah right. Yeah, I’m friggin’ great.”
As I was driving over the bridge with my eyes closed, it dawned on me what a shithead I was being and I called Mom to apologize. I, of course, started crying my eyes out, with Mom saying, “Stop crying! It’s not safe to drive and cry!” I told her that I was on my way to Dad’s to feed his friggin’ cat and that I’d be home soon and we hung up.
She called me two minutes later to see if I had stopped crying and told me that DHut thought I needed to go home and get my dog and my meds and come spend the night. I declined, because all I really wanted to do is go home and talk to Malcom, cry some more, and be alone.
I just wanted to be at home, not with family, not worrying about them worrying about me, not worrying about taking up their time, not worrying about worrying. Of course Mom and DHut think this is bullshit and they tell me not to worry. Which of course makes me worry more.
I called Malcom after I had fed Dad’s cat, on my way home. Of course, I started crying again…while driving (I know Mom, that’s bad), but it was just so damn good to hear his voice. We talked for a little bit and then I put my groceries away and I called him and we talked some more. Eventually he calmed me down and I got off the phone to eat dinner and try and distract myself with a movie.
After watching The Good Shepherd for a little while and crying a little bit more and eating a fudgesicle, I felt a little bit calmer and was starting to get that head buzzing feeling that tells me I need to go lie down. I called Malcom and we said our “goodnights.”
I then laid in bed for thirty minutes before passing out. As previously stated, I did get some sleep last night, although there were still nightmares and the sleep was off and on…but seriously…even a little bit of sleep helps.
My intake appointment for the IOP (Intensive Outpatient Program) is today at 2:00 p.m. I have to be there at 1:30 p.m. to fill out paperwork. Thankfully Mom offered to go with me, as at the moment I am mentally unable to even go to the gas station, nevertheless a place I have never been.
I am looking forward to the intake, in the sense that I will be able to start the program the next day, but am also dreading it because I know I’m going to have to answer some questions and think about some things that I don’t want to think about.
After the intake, I plan to come home and do some manual labor around the yard to distract myself. My lawn needs to be mowed desperately. My bastard neighbor to the South and I are usually in competition for who has the nicer looking yard and he has mowed twice now already and I have not yet mowed this year. I’m also going to pull some weeds, pot some plants, weed-whip, and pick up the plethora of daily circulars that seem to have accumulated on my front porch. That’s my goal anyway. I am just hoping I have the energy to do so.
David Gray’s Hospital Food (Tell Me Something)