Light and Darkness

What about me?

I'm not a fucking saint. I'm tired of postponing what I want and desire. Fuck the other people who need Z!

I need him!

Does that count for any goddamn thing?!

 

Fin

My last chat with Z was tonight. I can't help but be mad at God for taking away so many good things in my life. I shouldn't be selfish. Z has a far greater future helping others not be like me. I should be happy with the thought that others will have a man in their lives that will care a great deal for them. Far better for the world.

...

still very pissed and sad and will be for a very long time

Pharmaceuticals Suck

Z put me on Wellbutrin a couple of months. It and Prozac have done a fairly decent job with keeping the depression to a manageable "I only want to kill myself once a month" level. He gave me a script that would last me a few months until I can establish myself with another psych. Hmmm...went to get my refill today and with a discount, the bloody prescription costs seventy-four dollars...and that's the generic formula. Needless to say I'm no longer taking Wellbutrin as of today. From what he's told me, I have withdrawal to look forward to once the level drops.

Pharmaceutical companies can kiss my ass. Nope..nope..nope. Sorry, that's mean and hateful. I hope those people making money off the drugs they sell are having a wonderful time in their posh lifestyles. I hope their children or elderly parents never have to go without the one drug that may save their lives one day.

Forget that.....You fuckers suck! What?! A one hundred percent profit wasn't enough? I mean, afterall, it costs you ten cents a pill to make it. Fuck all the homeless crazies on the street. Fuck the single moms stressing to provide a stable life. Fuck the seniors choosing between food, heating, and medications. Fuck all of you "I have to buy another fucking car and travel between my three continental homes during the year" legal drug pushers.

I was just barely getting by on a lower end prescription of generic wellbutrin.

Fuck, I hate them!

Dear Universe,

 

Thank you for taking care of her. Keep it up!

                                                                                           love

                                                                                          ~Nae

I see her walking away from me.

I took a friend to the emergency room last night to have her admitted for psychiatric care. Like me she suffers from those little mental health demons. She has for the majority of her life. I am thrilled that she texted me when she needed the help. More so...I'm glad I was here in Pensacola to be only five minutes away from her.

Despite explaining this was for the best, I am still hesitant to say that it was the right decision to take her. I watched her walk down the corridor with the ER nurse and felt such sadness for her. Such a want to be able to hold her hand and wait with her while an intake was conducted. I felt I had betrayed her for leaving her alone.

I had explained that the staff may not let me go back with her. I would stay for as long as I was allowed. But I still feel so sad that she had to face it alone. When they told us that I couldn't wait with her, her face showed that she was reconsidering this plan. She vocalized that she wasn't going to do it. I bent low to her and said this was a good thing. It's ok to be scared. To throw up. To be angry with them. But let them help her.

Yet....when she walked away, I wanted to just grab her and say to the nurse, "Nevermind."

I may have to wait seventy-two hours before I can talk to her or see her.

I'm praying she's ok. I'm praying this will help her. I wish she didn't have to suffer through this illness that causes such emotional destruction.

I know I did the right thing but I still feel horrible...like I've abandoned her to face this alone.

I'm a thirty-nine year old 4-yr old.

In my mind, I keep refreshing my recent behavior with Z and am not proud of my temperment. Do other people have such a hard time ending their relationship with their psychiatrist? I think I'm upset that he's so casual about it. I know I'm one of hundreds of people he's seen and a drop in the bucket for the thousands more he'll have in his career. It makes me feel like an idiot for clinging so tightly.

I have become so frightened of living over the last couple of years. Z made it easier to deal with things. I really am nervous about going it alone.

But...I'm just making a big deal about a stupid professional relationship with a psychiatrist. I really need to move on. Opportunities, right?!

For sanity sake, I'm not writing about him anymore. Moving on.

Little Good

I am a fucking crazy. I told Z about the transference issues as to why I'm having problems ending the therapy with him.

Advice: Find a psychiatrist that I can discuss this with.

I am an idiot for ever sharing my whacked emotions and thoughts. It does no good for me except to embarrass and complicate my life.

I'm going to bed.

I hate Freud.

I feel like a freak. I started having transference issues a couple of months ago. I was trying to build the courage to work through them with Z. I moved. From the last few posts, one can tell that I'm not handling this at all. I told him to fuck off...summary, but not quite so cuntish. And then today, I leave a message that I need his help. Borderline, Naomi?

I think I need to work out the transference (you, fucker Freud...hope you're rotting in your grave) with Z but I'm ashamed and embarrassed. What do I do? And why do feelings for people have to be so ugly and clinical?

I really need advice. What should I do? Deal with this on my own or talk to him? Do I really care about him or transferring everything?

Itchy Skin

I broke out with a horrible rash before I left Texas. It looked like measles or chicken pox. It was horrible, scratching the entire ten hour drive here to Florida. Two weeks later and remnants of the rash linger. My legs are scratched to hell. My skin is flaking all over my body. Every material irritates  the fuck out of me. And I can't reach those spots. When I do, I've clawed my skin to shreds.

At first, I thought nerves and unhappiness about the move back. Psychosomatic. Perhaps it still is a side effect of that. But more and more, I think I'm allergic to my newest medicine. I've been taking it for well over a month. But according to some accounts, people on the med have experienced the same reaction. Sudden onslaught of this horrible, "I'm about to skin myself with a paring knife because it itches so bad" rash.

I can't stop taking it. It's the little boost that is helping keep my mood in check. I also have no fucking psychiatrist! The teetering I'm doing is balancing just enough for me to not fall over the suicide ledge. (Incidentally, I spent a few days in a psychiatric hospital in September because I almost did it. Checked myself in as an alternative to an overdose. That visit was fucked up.)

I'm pissy. I'm trying to be happy with the move back to Pensacola. Emmaline is loving school. She's adjusting well so any crisis that I'm trying to work myself into is worth the idiocy that it will bring about.  At this moment....1132p on Friday, November 18, 2011....I hate it here. I've lost my dignity as well as Z. And I'm unhappy to say that I need him.

FUCK!

I'm screaming violently inside my head. I'm restless and tired.

It's all for a good reason. All for a good reason. Fuck, it better be.

Harder than it looks like.

I've been curled up beneath blankets all day. This is difficult and I feel very alone. And I hate that I came to rely on someone I knew wouldn't be there for the duration of what I need. I knew it and still didn't prepare myself. Now....I'm just really sad.