I have to admit, today wasn’t as bad as yesterday. Although, my moods were swinging high and low way too fast for me. I couldn’t fall asleep last night. It’s been about a month since I’ve suffered from insomnia. Of course that means I can’t wake up till around 11 am. I took my meds and made some food. I was trying so hard to stay awake. I went upstairs and crashed on my bed for a couple more hours. Finally, I was able to get my sleepy ass self out of bed and go to the gym. The gym is turning out to be my safe haven. I’m not reminded constantly of what a failure I am, how lazy I am, just generally what a piece of shit I am. No one cares who I am there. They only care if you don’t clean your machine after you’re done. I can get my frustration out there and fill my body with much-needed endorphins. Going there makes me feel accomplished.
I made dinner tonight. It actually turned out amazing. I only got cussed at once, so I’ll take that as a huge improvement. Everyone genuinely liked it. I’m starting to enjoy being in the kitchen, as long as I’m by myself. I can be creative in a different medium than I’m used to. Every time I make a new dish, I like to think of it as one more step to independence.
I’m still dealing with this depression. I just can’t shake it. I don’t want another medication change. I don’t want more therapy. Really what I want is to have more interactions with people who care about me. I mean really care. Like I only hear from them when something is wrong. I hear about them hanging out with other people and never get invited. I gets old. I put on this magnificent facade that it doesn’t phase me, but it does. Why can’t I be good enough to have just one friend? I may never know. I might have to wait until I get to heaven to find out the answers. I have to hold strong that God has a purpose in my life and I may never know it while on this Earth.
This weekend should be much better. I have a feeling I’ll be ignored. That’s actually what I want. I want my family to pretend I don’t exist. That way I won’t get yelled at. I won’t get cussed at. I won’t hear any negative remarks.
I still can’t write what I want. What would truly make me happy. If I write it, it will be real, not some wild fantasy. I know there is a high probability it’s just a dream, but I want to hold on to it a little while longer. I think I need to so that I can survive.