This Blows

Mood: 0

Meds: 2 pm

Sleep: 7ish hours?

Other: Been doing a lot of thinking. I desperately need to go back to the doctor. I don't know if I've cycled into another ugly manic or mixed state or if I've just discovered that I have paranoid ideation outside of mood episodes. I'm hoping with all my heart and soul that it's the former and not the latter, not that that's much better.

I may go back to the doctor before I go to New York. I haven't decided yet. I need to go, but I'd intended to wait it out until I have to go back for more prescriptions in May. I don't know if I can make it that long, though. It's pretty apparent that what I'm taking isn't getting it.

*Sigh* I dunno know what to do. I can't even judge my own mood states anymore, which makes me think I might be in one. I'm so drained of energy, and I feel so blah, but I'm also irritable and paranoid as fuck. So yay. More motherfucking psychosis. I'm sick of it.

More accurately, I'm sick of not being able to control it. I'm 27 years old. I shouldn't have to sit up all night until the sun comes up because I'm convinced I'm going to be murdered horribly in my bed the instant I close my eyes. I'm afraid someone is lurking in the shadows, ready to kill me. I'm afraid of dying in a gruesome and terrifying way. (For the record, when I'm not like this, I'm not afraid of death.) I'm scared that when I die, God is going to cast me into the horrid Hell of every Baptist preacher's wet dream where I'm going to be tortured for all eternity. In fact, I'm convinced that the devil himself is going to come and escort my soul to the cell of unspeakable horrors that he's got waiting for me.

Yeah. It's insane. I hate myself for having these ridiculous thoughts. I'm ashamed that I can't control them. Most people have no idea what it's like to have to wrestle with your own mind. It's incredibly humiliating to have to deal with. I feel like a goddamn child who's afraid of monsters under the bed. I SHOULD KNOW BETTER.

But here's the differentiating factor here. I KNOW the delusions are delusions. The rational part of my mind KNOWS there's no way this is reality. But there's that devil whispering in my ear, "But it might be," and I can't stop the fear.

The delusions aren't real. But the fear is. And I don't know what to do. :(

God help me, I'm tired of being crazy.