Let's Be Honest. I'm Not The Man I Was.

Its Saturday. Or is it Sunday? *checks* It's Sunday. And I feel terrible.

I've been thinking lately that nothing is as it seems in my world - I've been having many paranoid delusions, to the point where I don't know what's real and what isn't.

I feel on the verge of crying almost everyday. Some days lately seem to involve thoughts of suicide, that worthless, nagging at my mind that I really don't deserve to take up this space in the universe.

I try to talk to fdoll about it all - and she is truly being a gem to me - but I've got to the point where I think that all I'm actually managing to do is to put more stress on her when she already has to deal with the chaos of my mood swings. I mean, I wanted to learn how to build and fly a helicopter earlier this week.

The swings into mania and depression are becoming more wild and rapid - and it really is wearing me down.

Looking back at my blog, I've realised that my posts are no longer about the things that fdoll and I get up to together, but instead, are filled with my thoughts of death and depression. Let's face it, that's not really fun for anyone to read.

Whenever I write here though, I feel that I am able to get out some of the emotions that I find too hard to verbalise. It becomes a way for me to start myself crying and then I can let it all out.. Become that wreck I need to be for a while. Sat in the corner, don't mind me, I wont be long.

But, of course, this is meant to be a happy blog, one that (no doubt) has previously got you excited to load into your browser and peruse. But lately, all it has become is an empty shell - much like it's owner.

I fear that I am no longer the fun blogger that you guys started to come to here to read about - I'm just a guy with a serious mental illness that happens to like SM. And that, I'm sure, isn't something any of you want to know about.

So, I've realised that I need to take these mentally disabled ranting elsewhere - somewhere more appropriate.

I did enjoy sharing the fun parts of my life with you all, I really did.. But right now, my life and sanity are at stake. And - I'm told - they are priceless.

Anti-zzzzzzz

Insomnia strikes again. Its becoming a terrible thing to have to deal with - the want to go to sleep, the desire to slumber. But, the complete inability to switch off your mind.

Fdoll sleeps soundly next to me and I almost feel a pang of jealousy that she is, right now, in another world. Dreaming, no doubt, of us buying a puppy.

I wish I could sleep.

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emails are welcome:
erratic.seasons@gmail.com

Small update...

Just thought I'd let you guys know, I've just get home from the doctor's appointment, and I'm now back on the meds..

Here's hoping normality is nearby..

---
emails are welcome:
erratic.seasons@gmail.com

Things improved, and then took another nosedive.

This got better for a few days after my last post, I was feeling good and thought the worst was over. But, after a night of insomnia (seemingly a sign that something with my moods is going to occur) the other night, I'm now in a world or paranoid thoughts and a depression ticking away in the background.

Frankly, I need help.

An appointment has been made for tomorrow, after I finish work, with my local family health doctor. I'm aiming for them to then refer me to a local psychiatrist. Clearly I need to get back on medications, but that's not something I can self-prescribe.

Perhaps I may need to take anti-d's as well, but I already know I can't take SSID types after being hospitalised last time for a severe reaction to them.

If anyone has had good stories of taking anti-depressants that AREN'T SSID type, could you email me? I'm looking for facts on how they work for you..

erratic.seasons@gmail.com

Thanks guys..



---
emails are welcome:
erratic.seasons@gmail.com

$$$

Money.

Its said that it makes the world go around, although I'm sure physics professors would have something to say against that.

It does, however, make my world spin at the moment. And not in a good way.

I've got so many outgoings that my salary is practically 3/4 gone before the end of the first week of the pay month. And I have fuck all to show for it. The biggest killer of my funds has to be paying off a debt ran up by my ex. And this is meant to happen for another 4-4.5 years. Its just horrendous.

I think that money is causing most of my concerns lately. I have so many productive plans for my dollars - I'm proficient at stocktrading, for example - but I can never get enough capital to start investing. So that potential just sits there in front of me, mocking me. Watching that possible home-business sit there doing nothing is like watching a Miss Universe start abusing meth and getting a breast reduction. Its just torturous.

Doll has the occasional slow week due to the nature of her work, but her not having cash occasionally probably doesn't have the impact on me that she thinks it does. I mean, I'm not upset that she's a bit low on funds every so often, but I do get upset that I can't just throw some cash her way and replenish her cashflow.

I woke up feeling ok this morning, but thoughts with dollar signs in front of them started filling my head during the commute to work - and its taken my mood down again.

I started my usual stupid bipolar thought pattern - I could rob someone, I could win the lotto etc etc. Then I thought, I could jump off a building. But that's useless. None of those things are the answer to my problems.

The answer to my problem is to tighten up my proverbial belt, lessen outgoings. And after all that, start making a dent on saving up a starter amount of cash to trade with and invest.

I'm 30 in a matter of a few months - time to get my fucking life together.


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emails are welcome:
erratic.seasons@gmail.com

A maze of dark tunnels.

Half an hour before work starts, and I'm sat in my car. The doors locked, keeping the world at bay. I can be myself here for another few moments before I have to put on my mask and face everything.

But I've noticed that my mask is wearing thin. The strap that holds it on is starting to sag. I think its overuse that's done it.

My skin is pale, dry and loose. My eyelids droopy from exhaustion of keeping going - trudging along metre after metre. I feel it grating away at me. The constant battle of existence.

But I know, around one of these damp, dark corners, there's a light at the end of the tunnel. There's always light. And I just keep needing to keep upright, and keep walking towards the light (when I see it).

I can't just give up and stay sat in the darkness for eternity.

---
emails are welcome:
erratic.seasons@gmail.com