I’ve had a horrible cold the last few days and it sucks. I hate being sick but I hate more when my depression turns into something that makes me physically ill which I believe is happening right now and it sucks. I came home from work and put tomato soup in a yeti cup because I am lazy and would rather drink it like that vs sipping it out of a bowl. It really helped my throat and I will say being sick is distracting me from other issues. I sound like I’ve smoked 2 packs of Marlboro Menthol’s a day my entire life. (In my brief smoking period I would only smoke menthol’s). My moods have sucked and I am trying to power through it but it is hard to do. I spend the day with my daughter and husband when I got home from work. My daughter eventually went to spend the night at my moms house so the hubby and I laid in bed eating Zaxbys and watching Better Things. (I am now obsessed with Better Things.) I love laying on Wayne there is something about my head on his chest that is so relaxing. No matter what is going on if my head is on his chest nothing else in the world matters at that moment. I am worried about so much mostly money and all of this. I don’t know what I am doing with this and what direction I want to go. I’ve fallen in love with my book again and I need to publish it but it seems so surreal actually finishing it and letting people see inside. I have a blog entry saved here that I occasionally type on when I’m in the mood but I need to focus dammit get all the pieces together and create the magic that started so long ago. I just need to get there again.
So I don’t know if I was asleep or awake last night, but all I saw was a sea of people with purple faces until they ripped their faces off and held me down in the water trying to get me to deny Jesus. Then everything went quite and the man beside my bed whispered, “I’m back.”
The next thing I know I’m in a tornado trying to grab on to anything that comes in my path but everything just slips my grip as I’m pelted over and over again, but their are no cuts and bruises just gaping holes across my chest and feet. I tried to catch my breath but each time I did I was drowning in a sea blood until the bitter blackness sweeps me away and my mouth becomes a desert that I can’t escape gasping for water until a waterfall falls on me and I can’t breathe again my hand raised above my head again grasping for anything trying to hold my head above water but being sucked down by a hurricane into a black hole and then the man beside my bed whispered, “Are you having fun yet?”
Finally my eyes opened and I couldn’t breathe my chest pounding too scared to get out of bed because what if this is part of his plan and I was dreaming? What is a dream and a reality becomes a 20 question game in my mind. My lip and cheek will start to bleed soon I’m biting for comfort and hope that I’m in reality and the tornado that has just started won’t come around again and start all over. That today I can concentrate at work with visions of ripped off faces in my head. when I tell people I’m not well they don’t understand what this means. This means that I was okay but now I’m not, this means calling the doctor and praying he doesn’t put me back in but instead adjusts my antipsychotic again. This means hoping that the darkness he has created around me doesn’t convince me to slit my wrist, OD on pills, sadly this is my reality until it passes again.