I have the will to survive. I am not ready to die, even though I do think about it, the not-living. Think about it obsessively, at times. What I do not have, is the will to live. To flesh out my meaningless existence into something worth having. And I’m not sure it’s even the will that I’m lacking, but maybe the strength, or the desire, or the current ability.
I had another hard day yesterday and today, so far, hasn’t been much brighter. I woke up with a chest full of anxiety and feel like I’m breathing through a straw. I had already taken a PRN by 10:00 a.m., and that is quite rare for me. I don’t know how to explain this feeling, but it’s more than just anxiety. It’s anxiety, and it’s tension, and sadness, and hopelessness, depression, despair, agony, hurt, pain, confusion.
And anger. There is so much anger. I never thought of myself as an angry person, but I have been lately. I have so much hatred, directed inward, that it is spilling out into hatred directed outward. I am tense, I lose control at the slightest irritation, the voices in my head churn together to create a death-metal march of destruction. I can’t take it. What is it that I can’t take? Anything. The reality of the world rubs me raw and I just.can’t.take.it. I feel lost and wounded, like I am limping through a forest of evil trees, waiting to be killed. Kill or be killed. Kill or be killed. Kill or be killed.
Fall is coming. Fall is almost here. Bad things happen in the Fall. Mood shifts, cycles, howling at the moon. I wonder if I should use my sun lamp, but I feel like this might be a mixed episode and so I don’t. But I want to. Because that lamp brings me happiness, energy, joy. Let’s face it. That lamp could, does have the possibility, entirely possible that it could bring full-blown mania. And I want that and I don’t, at the same time. I’d be happy with some hypomania. Maybe then I could get my house clean. What I do know, however, is that it could really intensify this mixed episode I believe I am having. And that would lead to more hurt, more despair, more anger. I don’t really want that. So I will wait, ride it out. Because, really, what else can I do?