My life is one big blur right now - everything moving really, really fast. So fast. Too fast. I can’t keep up. I can’t think straight. I can’t catch my breath. I can’t do enough. I can’t even write down my thoughts coherently because everything makes sense and nothing makes sense all at the same time and it all comes out messy and icky and jumbled and weird. I can’t remember times or dates or the order of things or the order of words.
All I know is that every so often I’ll get a clear moments of lucidity where I know for sure who I am and where I am and who I’m with and what I’m doing and what I’m saying and what they’re saying. And I love those moments. I live for them. I wait for them every day. I hold on to them as proof that I’m not crazy. That I’m alive and real and normal and fine. That I’m not beyond hope. That I’m not beyond help.
But those moments haven’t been coming up as often as I’d like lately. Most of the time I just feel lost. Confused. Disoriented. Afraid. Irritable. Excitable. Overwhelmed. Ashamed. Muddled. Murky. Like I’m spinning in circles round and round and round and round and no matter what I do I can’t make the world stand still. I can’t make myself stand still.
Eating too much, drinking too much, smoking too much, spending too much. All I do is run away. And the more I run, the more I need to run. From dark thoughts and dark feelings and dark fears and dark plans. But the more I need to run, the less I am able to. Ugh. I don’t know. I don’t even know what I’m saying or why I just went into all that.
Maybe I shouldn’t have gone off my meds.