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Journal Redux #7

Mood: Depressed

Sleep: Sleeping, Erratic
Food: Whatever I feel like

Energy: None
Motivation: None
Ambition: None

Libido: Roller Coaster
– Porn Addiction: Slight

Therapy: Appointment Set
Med Compliance: Waiting to see Psychiatrist

Conscience: Stronger

It has been nearly a whole month since I actually wrote anything. I have thought about it a few times, even wrote something once.

At the end of the sentence, though, I feel no different. I want to just block out everything outside of the walls of my home. I don’t want to deal with friends, family, or anyone.

ANY amount of stress for me is like using a megaphone. It could be something trivial (a whisper) but it will come out loud. It could be as light as a feather but when it lands on my shoulders it weighs down like I am trying to carry the mule instead of packing it on the mule itself.

I lost my thoughts… but I will post this one.

 

Journal Redux #6 -WARNING: POSSIBLE TRIGGER(S)-

Mood: Depressed
– Suicidal Ideations

Sleep: Sleeping
Food: Whatever I feel like

Energy: None
Motivation: None
Ambition: None

Libido: Roller Coaster
– Porn Addiction: Roller Coaster

Therapy: Missed Last Appointment
Med Compliance: Waiting to see Psychiatrist

Conscience: Fighting
– Growing Stronger

I have had a few rough weeks. I wish I could say something happened, mainly because then things would make sense.

I have been dealing with Bi-Polar Disorder most of my life and still I get blindsided and confused. I mentioned nothing happened, but I still feel worthless and useless. For the first time in years I began having suicidal ideations and I am scared.

I have had thoughts about how before, that unfortunately comes with the illness and a near daily basis, but these had an intensity behind them. I tried my skills and they were a no go. Yeah, I could maybe distract myself for a short time, but I don’t have the energy to keep going with a particular activity, especially when I have zero interest in it.

So I talked to my wife and called a friend. She came over and has been sitting with me for the last few days in an attempt to keep myself from the hospital. I don’t think there is anything wrong with the hospital, it probably would help a lot. But its unfamiliar as I haven’t been to the Psychiatric floor at this one. I have met the counselors and some of the staff while doing Partial Hospitalization but I have never been in the in-patient side and its still unfamiliar.

My dad took my kids, so I hope they are having fun. Its a roller coaster, though. I can be doing great one moment and the next I am thinking about how much everything is crushing me and that I might as well be dead. I am scared to die, I don’t want to die. I believe life is a gift from Jehovah and should not be thrown away, and its that belief that gets me through it… but I am still scared that there will be that one time I don’t listen. I am scared because I believe I have squandered my life and that it is worthless to everyone, so what’s the point of being here. I KNOW better, but its what I FEEL.

I get angry (which doesn’t help) because it does seem like a majority of people I once thought understood or at least were trying to understand, don’t. That while I have the ability to defeat my addiction, my illness doesn’t let it go… that my illness keeps it around, so to truly get rid of it I need to get rid of my illness, but that will never happen. So I am worthless.

I did do the text chat with the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline and that helped a little. He was a bit strong (It does seem like some things are from a script) but I didn’t feel put off or like it meant the volunteer didn’t care. I recommend calling if you need to… if not the lifeline then a trusted friend or family member… if not them then someone… even now I feel like I am suffocating and alone, in darkness that presses in on me to my very core… but that doesn’t mean that those feelings are reality… they are real, yes, in that that is HOW YOU FEEL… but feelings don’t mean reality. There is someone who cares, even if they don’t know you. Despite the hatred and stand-offish majority, there are people that will help no matter what… so find help. It sucks that its one more thing WE have to do when we have so little energy left, but use that last bit of remaining energy to get help.

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, or even the next five minutes…

Journal Redux #5

Mood: Depressed
– Questioning Things

Sleep: Good (With Melatonin)
Diet: Up and Down

Energy: Good
Motivation: Some
Ambition: None

Libido: Hyper
– Porn Addiction: Low

Therapy: Missed Last Appointment
Med Compliance: Some

Conscience: Fighting

There is not a lot to update on today. I know it has been a week but things are what they are.

Journal Redux #4

Mood: Depressed
– Questioning Things

Sleep: Near Insomnia
Diet: Whatever we Have to Eat

Energy: Some
Motivation: Some
Ambition: None

Libido: Hyper
– Porn Addiction: Fighting

Therapy: Missed Last Appointment
Med Compliance: None

Conscience: Lost

I had no idea that its been over a week since I last wrote an entry. My perception of time is still… random.

I want to throw up, but I do not know why.

I want to sleep, but, as usual, my mind will not shut down.

My sex drive is on full, even after sex. Usually it calms down once… I release. (I hate masturbating anymore, there is no joy or satisfaction… my wife is all I need.) I don’t know what this means, but its new.

I feel there is something wrong. I have this feeling in my head every time I do something, its like a disconnect from reality or my conscience. I get to a point in the decision making process and most of the time I get to this gap (I feel it, right side of my head towards the right… yep, it has a spot) that says, “I don’t care.”

There are things I still care about, but many things I KNOW I care about just have shut off, like they were removed from my own brain or now sit in an endless darkness.

I stopped caring. Now, this has happened before, but I have always cared that I don’t care and could usually follow through with not making decisions I knew I would regret once I “switched” back to my “normal” self. But this time… this time I don’t care that I don’t care. I feel comfortable. In a small way, yeah, it still scares me… but I don’t care.

Journal Redux #3

Mood: Depressed/Angry
– Near Tears

Sleep: Decent
Diet: Junk

Energy: None
Motivation: None
Ambition: None

Libido: Hyper
– Porn Addiction: Don’t Care

Therapy: Regular
Med Compliance: None

Conscience: Whispered

I got outside yesterday. It was a good thing. We went to a small lake beach and had hamburgers, sun and some relaxation. I start to retreat almost immediately being around people and by the end of the night I was exhausted and fully inside my shell.

Later, my wife gave a friend a drink called Hot Sex (chocolate, very good) and our friend sent out snapchats about how she likes it when her best friend gives her Hot Sex. She got a reply back from one of her friends about it. In it our friend mentioned to him that my wife had given it to her and he, possibly for just a joke…. doubt it, made a comment about sharing her friend with him.

Yeah, that is definitely a trigger. My humor was dead and I became super angry. The depression and anxiety I was already dealing with didn’t help, but I was angry and didn’t find it funny in the least.

I can’t even picture my wife with another guy without becoming angry, and when its mentioned by someone else it drives it home. I didn’t sleep all that well (I did sleep, though), and woke up still angry.

This all lead to me being cranky about everything and coming across as cross to everything, which then lead to a fight about weekend plans.

This day hasn’t been all bad… but I still feel dead inside.

Journal Redux #2

Mood: Depressed
– Near Tears

Sleep: Decent
Diet: Junk

Energy: Some
Motivation: Some
Ambition: None

Libido: Active
– Porn Addiction: Don’t Care

Therapy: Regular
Med Compliance: None

Conscience: Struggling

It’s Thursday. I got up and took the garbage out, got the kids to school, and I am now sitting here wanting to cry and scream. I want sex but I don’t. I want to eat but I don’t. I should drink some water, but I have no desire to move.

Its another day where all I want to do is escape to another world. I probably will, but I also have a doctor’s appointment today.

Another day. Just another day.

Journal Redux #1

Mood: Depressed

Sleep: Decent
Diet: Junk

Energy: None
Motivation: None
Ambition: None

Libido: Roller Coaster
– Porn Addiction: Roller Coaster

Therapy: Regular
Med Compliance: None

Conscience: Fighting

 

I don’t really have anything to say but I wanted to start writing again.

The last year has been great but also one of the worst years I have had in a long time. Last year I was hopeful and confident I was moving forward, even so I knew I needed some extra help and started in a Partial Hospitalization Program. The group therapy helped me immensely and I wish the program wasn’t temporary. As all things, though, it had to end and that was the start of my Icarus fall.

I was doing so well; resisting porn, spending, and had a controllable libido. I felt good, not great, but good. I could leave my house with relative discomfort and even go to large gatherings, like the meetings at the Kingdom Hall, with very little anxiety. I enjoyed going, in fact.

I was on medication again, and was convinced it was helping (which is was).

Then it happened, the fall. It seems like it was just a flick of a switch, but it was a slow burn, a burn I even knew was happening. Like Icarus, though, I was confident I could manage it. Then my wings were gone. The medication stopped helping and instead of being a fire retardant, became a catalyst. My conscience was smothered and tucked so far away that I could not hear its call. Every iota of energy was drained, gone like the wisp of smoke at the end of a candle.

I wasn’t suicidal in the sense that I wanted to kill myself, but I felt no purpose in going on. I was told too many times I needed to give things more time. I was downhearted and defeated for no reason other than I woke up one day. The darkness I fought so hard to keep at bay wrapped around me like a large comforter and provided me a bleak cold warmth that smothered any ambition.

I gave into pornography again because, well, what’s the point of fighting when I am a loser.

I gave into junk food again because what’s the point of eating right when I will fail anyway.

I gave up on cleaning because what’s the point when its dirty an hour later anyway.

I gave up.

For two months now I have sat in this darkness. I remembered the darkness from years ago, how bad it could be, but I had forgotten what its touch felt like. The comfort that the familiar misery brings and binds me together with.

I know there is light at the end of the tunnel, but I do not know if I will ever reach that light. I gave up on Jehovah and that is a deep, nerve slicing, bleeding pain, but the darkness dulls its edge. I weep without tears and lay here in the dry pools of my defeat.

I do not even have the strength to scream for help anymore. This is my prayer now, my words I cannot speak, my hopelessness put to text.

I do not want to die, but I do not know how to move out of the way anymore.