Beaten down

Well, I managed to get to sleep around 9 am in the end, but only for a paltry 4 hours. I mean WTF. Sigh. It’s enough to turn a person to drink, which is what I’m going to do after posting this. I just can’t take another night of those agonising adrenaline seizures. My head is still hurting from the last round.

I thought I’d become strong enough to combat my cyclothymia at its own game, but I just can’t. It’s too strong. The plans I made a few weeks ago, the changes I’d begun to implement, the positive attitude I’d generated… all gone. I have no power. And it will never end.

I’m not convinced my next batch of blood pressure medication will last longer than a day.

I’m just so frightening of everything and everybody all the time. It’s been this way all my life. And why? Oh, no reason. It’s just how my brain likes to torture me. It’s an exhausting experience to live in fear. It seems all the cute pop music in the world can’t help me. Drink briefly can though. But apparently that’s enough.

I started off a precocious middle class kid with so much potential. Now I’m an alcoholic loser living on a northern council estate. That’s what mental illness really does to a person. They don’t make films about that.

Anyway, I’ve still got a load of booze leftover from last week’s harmful binge, plus I have a grocery order put in for tomorrow. I’ll add some more drinks before the midnight cut-off. I’ll try to avoid that cheap supermarket whisky, as that’s the thing that really does me a mischief.

Well, folks, I guess that’s me done for a few days.

See you on the other side.

Sigh.

Do stay in touch, darlings, although I’m no longer receiving visitors.

Toodles!