OK, So take two! I started a blog and it was going well..right up until the damn site disappeared. So now I get to start over. Kinda the story of my life.

Anyway, Not much has changed since my last post..OK that’s a total lie, but since I can’t remember exactly what I wrote I’m just going to go with it.

I’m still a total psychological mess.. No shocking news there. A change of meds and an upped dose of another and I’m seeing little change. I’m still not sleeping and as a wise friend of mine said the other day, Sometimes the negative thoughts win, sometimes I win. (Thanks Karen!) I’m still making snap decisions, not sure if it’s because of my issues or the simple fact that I’m just an asshole. Either way I own it. It’s all mine. Another wonderful perk of being me.

In the last few months I’ve hurt a lot of people. And again it’s all on me, I have to own it. Some days I can use it as fuel to try and make myself a better person. Other days it consumes me like a poisonous cloud. On my “Good” days, when I recognize that my actions have had a negative impact on all sorts of relationships, I feel the overwhelming need to try and rectify all the hurt and pain. Those are also the days where it seems like sometimes the harder I try the harder the door gets slammed in my face. And I accept that too. All part in partial to living with the angry beehive that is my brain. I know I cannot EVER take back the hurt I caused, and as a result I have irreparably damaged some relationships, as a whole or in pieces.

On the “Bad” days I sit in silent war in my head..Fighting to hang on..fighting to let go. Those are the days where I question whether or not being around is a blessing or a curse. Those are the days where there is a constant mantra running through my mind of, Its all my fault and I deserve this. It’s like a painful tickle in the back of my brain, one that can’t be scratched, can’t be quieted. I wallow there, in that blackness that I have created. Where the only thing that I am sure of is the pain, the emptiness, the absolute nothing. I almost take comfort there now. It’s a familiar place, almost like a blanket that I shroud myself in for protection. It’s not a warm, soft, cuddly blanket, but one made of sharp edges and thorns. It’s an old friend now. It’s comforts me because through it all, my constant companion has been the pain, it never leaves me, it never disappoints me, it doesn’t make phony promises. It’s protected me with out question, time and time again. It’s sometimes the only reminder that I am in fact real. I’m not sure if I should be upset or afraid that I feel so attached to that nothing piece of myself, and right now I don’t want to ponder that question. I accept it for what it is, my second skin.

For now, I take whatever small victories I can find. Not crying all day/night. When I can get out of bed. When I can actually eat more than a few bites without wanting to throw up. When I can log on to “Social media” and not want to cry or fly into such a black rage. Baby steps.

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