Not Yet September 26, 2007

I’m getting worse. Not better.

My psychiatrist will up my lamictal from 50mg to 100mg next week. I’m really praying it will take care of this.

My arm can’t sustain any more cuts. It’s tough hiding it from people who don’t know me. It’s tough making up pathetic excuses that they won’t buy any way.

Right now, I want to overdose on something- anything! I don’t know why I’m like this. I don’t know how I can be like this at all. Maybe something better will come along for me. Maybe Lamictal can help me. Maybe not. Only time will tell.

But for now, I’m glad for the people around me that try to understand and help me. Thank you all.

Count Me Out September 20, 2007

I’ve been feeling incredibly lonely lately. I don’t know why, but I tend to alienate people. I just won’t let anybody in. This defense mechanism sucks bigtime. I hate it. I’m getting depressed again. I’ve got no motivation to study anything because I don’t think I can handle it all. The urge to cut has never been stronger since I was medicated. I’ll find a way to get a cutter. I’ll find a way. I need some sort of release. I need to.

I can’t do it.

I think I’m about to give up.

I think they’ll find my body in my room sometime soon.

Breathe September 12, 2007

I hate you. And missing you is a reflex and and addiction and I need to go cold turkey. These thoughts are compulsions and you’re the obsession at the root of it all. You’ve turned my mind into silent automation, like a machine with a sole purpose of thinking of you, or finding you in places unconnected to you.

My mind needs to restart and forget you. You’ve snuck into every crevice and cavern in my head and my thoughts run after you. Something tells me that I need to just quit you. But how does one go cold turkey on thoughts? Do I rearrange my thoughts each time I think? Or do I rearrange my universe again, for the nth time around, like I’m so used to?

Like quitting smoking. No matter how far that godforsaken shed is from the Ortigas campus, I’ll walk there each time.

I’m ruled by two Wills. One is the will of the mind and the other, cocky though it sounds, is the will of the heart. Both have found their dependency in you or thoughts of you (I cannot really tell now which). So what will drive me then? In short: How does one move on when my whole being screams your name?

Tell my why it’s so easy for you. Tell me how you can not give a fuck anymore, or how you can not give a fuck as much as you used to. You do it so well. Teach me how to forgo these tea-colored tears. Teach me how to forgo sanctity; how to defeat the machinery of thought and memory and then, and only then, I will have conquered you.

Realizations September 8, 2007

I think I’m calmer now. The recent storm has passed. I’m going to study for the next exam. I’m going to probably outline things from now on. I learn better that way.

Now if I could just quit procrastinating.

I keep watching grey’s anatomy. And I realized that if I wanted to be like them, or be a doctor or whatever, I have to work for it now. I have to start now. I can’t delay it any longer: I must grow up. I must do this already and quit whining in the process. I’m hoping this isn’t just a spurt of hope or enthusiasm, but I’m hoping it’s sustainable. I wish I can do this. I wish I can follow through. Because it’s hard enough as it is. I don’t feel so well these days. My mood keeps shifting and I’m more of depressive. I hope I can pull through.

I also realized that I must put up with whatever side effects my medication has. I have to quit whining on that part too. I want to get better, I want to get well. And if I can stop being a patient, then and only then can I become a doctor. Right? So, I’m willing to put up with side effects (including the zombie feeling I get) provided that they don’t significantly impair me. I’m finding I can concentrate more these days, although the attention span is still short. I’m approaching stability, maybe. Man always has to go to equilibrium.

I also lastly realized that I have to get on with my life. I can’t keep this up anymore. I will move on, go on, pull away from the enticing labyrinth you have woven for me. I will forget you. I will move on. I say this out of compassion for myself. I’m good at waiting, but it’s tiring me out so much. I must stop waiting. This is not life, it’s life in slow motion or suspended animation. I can’t have that. You’ve put me in that phase, but I won’t let you. Not anymore. So I will stop waiting for you. I’ve made the decision. I just hope I can push through with it.

It’s hard, this whole business of being alive. It’s enough to take away my sanity and it has. I know I’m not so crazy. I’m just imbalanced. That’s all. I think I’m in denial too.

Fuck September 4, 2007

Bullshit.

I want to die right now. I want to harm.

I kept punching the wall and the bed (frame). My knuckles are a little discolored, but who cares? So what? It’s never comparable to how bad I feel inside.

“How will you know I’m hurting if you cannot see my pain? My body will show you things that words cannot explain.”