I started reading my blog today and I am such a miserable soul. I make myself sick. Can't I find something to do with my life other than this? I can see I have a talent for writing, albeit I left lots of typos in. I actually looked up my old business class teacher today and asked her to read my blog. Why I have the need to humiliate myself, I don't know. I thought she might be interested in how I write, I suppose. Hi Ms. S. You don't have to read these new posts if you decide to visit here. Just keep going to the old posts until you see my essay on How To Be Bipolar In LA. It is so old now, it is hardly worth it though. Time has marched on and the world has moved with it. I realize now I don't have that much important to say after all. Just a lot of whining and carrying on about being sad and lonely. Who cares? So What? Everyone has their own problems. I have one reader on this silly blog!
Back when I was smoking pot and being manic, I stayed awake for 9 days straight. Pacing, thinking wild thoughts, listening to loud rock music. Screaming obscenities at myself in the mirror....just being generally coo coo ca choo......What can I say? Does it mean anything that I go through this? I am just a victim of my menopausal hormones and screwed hard wiring. I try think in my mania that I am meant for something important, because I want to mean something to the world. I want to matter to an indifferent world, and surprise! Reality hits me and I know that I really don't matter and what I say doesn't matter and who cares if I live or die? There are billions of humans in this world~~why should anyone care what I go through? I would like to feel important and worth while, but it just isn't so. I have to learn to accept this and move on somehow. Accept I may grow old alone and die alone. It is hard to do. It is so hard. I just want to lie down and die. I get so fatigued all the time, that just reading my blog wears me out. It is the depression and hopelessness I feel reading my own pain. I just don't know what to do with my life anymore. I have no clue at all. No inkling whatsoever.
My therapist Jane had me answer questions the other day, so she could put down my goal plans for another year, to justify them still seeing me at the mental health clinic I go to. They have let patients go there because of budget cuts and the economy. They let my friend Kim go there. She was really upset about it. That is where I met her. In group therapy.
I tried to think of something to say, and nothing came to me. She always wants me to take art classes, but I feel so lethargic and unproductive that I have no interest. I told her all I can do is try and get out more for church. That is all I can manage. She wanted me to add something else, but I stared blankly out the window and said I just had no idea. I have no life plans or goals to strive for. I am a lump, lying on my couch. I told her once that if I didn't have to get up and eat or go to the bathroom, I would petrify and turn to stone. I have a nice bed and end up sleeping on my hard couch cuz I hate being alone, so I fall asleep with the tv on.
I think I am going to go lie down again. I feel weak. Peace out.