chewing glass ·
4 September 06

My last session was a strange one, with some mixed feelings about the outcome. One of the questions my psychologist asked me was how I felt about “our” relationship. I’ll be honest and say that I was well thrown with the question. No one’s ever challenged me, or questioned me about a relationship that I’ve had with them, and for some reason, I don’t understand the logic behind the question.

It made me feel, well, cornered, confused and rather isolated. It’s not the first time I’ve felt like that during a session. I guess maybe the confusion was expected as I was hearing the voice at the same time, and it was feeding some bad thoughts, confusing thoughts, into my head. I found it difficult to listen to what was being said, being at the session in general in fact because, on further remembering, I’d had a pretty damn horrible night before. I don’t think I fed this into the session though. I dont’ remember, I keep forgetting things more often now, even with the medication.

Last week I spent two days and two nights straight working at the office, and I hadn’t slept for over 50 hours, this resulted in me not having taken my medication in two days. During the first day and night that I had volunteered to work, on my own no less, during the following day I was in total fucked up mode.

The voice was so strong that I disappeared from the office for an hour and walked around talking to the voice, arguing with it at times, and felt like chewing on glass, and harming myself as much as possible. I was fighting the urge to jump in front of a vehicle, and I did well, I think, in not doing anything stupid. Everyone thought something was up when I walked in, so I kept quiet, smiled and just pretended everything was okay, even though I was fuming with hate and self loathing.

The second night was worse because I was shaking and baking in my seat, subtly though, but I was shaking, my spine would say electrical impulses, that would make me shiver, down. It’s something that’s happened to me over the last 15 years or so, so it’s nothing new.

But it was the first time the lack of sleep coupled with the lack of medication made the spine shivering so prominent. I felt epileptic at points, and wondered if I’d fall to the floor and bake away like a shake a vac commercial. I don’t know if people noticed it, if they did they didn’t say anything. I didn’t want them to notice it as it would be another chink in the armour of “I’m okay” when in fact I’m not. I don’t want to be seen as retarded in any sense.

This week has only just started, and already drugs have risen their ugly heads. I say ugly because all drugs, whatever form it may be, are ugly. Even the ones that give you the most joy have a deep seated ugliness about them. Then I think, what’s wrong or what’s so bad about the drugs anyway. Being sober, and realising that the world is a shit hole that seems intent on imploding in on itself, where we work long hours for menial pay, zero satisfaction and pittance in reward, has got to be worth zoning out from.

If I’m on another plane, regarding of the narcotic involved, and it takes me away from depression, is it so bad? See, my friend has stopped the Charlie Chan, but he needs it because he’s an addict. I am not an addict, but I do like it, but I do not need it, particularly in the quantities that my friend buys and uses. So we’ve decided, or at least he brought up and I hooked on to, the idea of buying weed. Now the fucked up thing is, neither of us have touched the stuff because of what it does to us. It’s a bad effect, but the idea is that it’s been so long that so little of it will we smoke that the bad effects may not happen.

Besides which it’s cheap as shit, and dealers are ten a penny when it comes to the commercial stuff. Punk is seemingly a little harder to get at the moment, but we’ll find something one way or another, commercial or otherwise. I guess I have this fear that the drug is going to turn me like it did before. I mean it fucked my head up real bad, but I was smoking with people that I simply did not like, or had any level of communication with and smoking was a way out. There’s no peer pressure involved in this, as my friend started the train going, and I’m continuing to drive it at full speed. I’m running away with the idea.

I’m not looking forward to the rest of the week, in fact I am despising this week. It’s boring admin work. No one else, not one other person in the office, wants to do it. I have to do it, because no one else will fucking do it. It was supposed to be “fun”, but it ain’t no fun for me. Have I expressed this, hell yes, but am I being listened to? Like fuck I am. Just thinking about it is pissing me off, because I’m ending in a role I hate: Ad-fucking-min.