can't sleep
4:25 a.m. - 07.14.02
i can't sleep. i'm afraid to go to sleep now because if i sleep my typical 12 hours, my breakfast will be around dinner time. i did take a klonopin tonight, so i do feel sleepy and spongey; my mind is a bit hazy. my muscles are cramping. i have a headache. worse, i've got coffee jitters as well.
i've been in a few chat rooms for depression, anxiety and bipolars. so far, especially tonight, i've had some nice chats with some people. it made me feel less alone, but i still got anxiety that i was getting too obsessed with being online tonight - geez, am i ever comfortable with any decision i make? lol. to any of those chatters who checked out my journal: thanks for the interest, and the support.
geez, now what should i talk about? i guess the thing with dave still is bothering me, i really feel shot down, and i don't trust any male that is currently offering to 'comfort' me now ... both in real life and online. please everyone, just for a little while, please don't look at my hair or my tits (both seem to get me into trouble, or are magnets for idiots). please just think of me as a person.
one of the bad decisions i made tonight was to enter into some 'survivors of rape/incest chats". not many genuine survivors in there, just a bunch of perverts trying to ask me details to get their rocks off. god, how i'm so used to and sick of that, period! but of course, they all start off chatting like they are your best friend.
i guess this is the best time for me to be online now, in the middle of the night. whenever i'm online during the day (we only have one line) i am disturbed by outside forces. i'm also tired of hearing 'i tried calling you for hours ..." and i feel especially bad when grandma's friends try to call.
oh well, what else can i write about ...
i was thinking about continuing the story of dad's suicide, how we discovered he was a bounty hunter, how i first met my dad's side of the family for the first time in 20 years, how i discovered he was living with delores in 'da hood with her crack-addict daughter, her 16 year old daughter, and her 3 year old son. i just don't have the mind power to discuss details now, but i do want to get this all out. i've been wanting and needing to write about it for 2 years now.
since i am bipolar i have a very hard time organizing my thoughts to where i make sense to other people. i keep thinking of that episode of 'the twilight zone': the man who is absolutley addicted to reading, then the bomb hits and he is the only survivor, yet he doesn't care because the entire library is his for eternity, until he trips and breaks his glasses ...
i know that i can write, but i'm just afraid i will never pull it together to organize any kind of story or novel. i love writing in my journal, though. i can say whatever the fuck i want and how i want.
can't sleep - 07.14.02
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