It’s hard to believe how tired I am today. All of this going on in my head the past few weeks has just made me so, so tired. I don’t know how I got to this place, and I don’t know how to get out.

Well, I can think of one way…

Well, I’m out of groceries with nothing to eat for dinner and depression got me in the house wanting to hide from all of society. Ugh.

I wish I had someone here watching horror movies with me right now.

 

 

Jeez, the past two times I’ve slept I dreamed of dying. Last night I dreamed that I committed suicide and during today’s depression nap I had a dream I’d had before (or a dream I dreamed I’d had before, at least) where someone else and I were stealing things from the neighborhood and some old man eventually finds us and kills us. The old man is different every time I dream this dream, but he always has two hot assistants. This time they were vampires.

I knew what was coming and I was a little nervous during the dream, knowing that it was a recurring dream, about the old man inevitably catching up with us. But I went along with my companion anyway (who, oddly enough, was Casper from the movie Kids. A movie I haven’t seen in… 20+ years)

If I’ve actually had this dream before, the old man was different. Last time he was a wizard, this time he was some kind of vampire and so were his hot assistants/minions. Weird.

For the past several days I have been fucking flying. I have a ton of energy, my mind is moving a thousand miles an hour, and I feel okay. Unfortunately, I can’t fucking concentrate on anything long enough to get some solid work done.

It could be due to my medication being switched last week. I had been taking 40mg of citalopram (Celexa) along with my 150 mg of Wellbutrin, but the Celexa got nixed and now I’m on Prozac.

The Celexa did wonders for my anxiety. I can’t remember a time when I was able to walk outside my door without feeling like everyone around me was looking at me. Every laugh was someone laughing at me. Behind every window were scrutinizing eyes judging the shit out of me. How I look, how I move, all of it.

Unfortunately, while I was on Celexa, the slightest bit of alcohol would give me the chills, tremors, and dry heaves. That being the case, it had to go. I’d rather be able to drink than feel somewhat normal, I guess.

You know, that doesn’t sound right. Oh well.

Of course, I didn’t tell my doctor the reason I wanted to stop taking Celexa was so I could start drinking copious amounts of alcohol alone in my apartment. He’d never do it were he to know that that was my reason. Plus, I had no intention of telling him I drink all the time alone in my house. If I’m going to live my life like a loser, I’d just as soon nobody know it but me. After all, if nobody observes it, is it really happening?

Anyhow, I had been complaining about feeling really “blah” and low-energy for quite some time, and my anhedonia had gotten to the point where I got no joy out of anything.