Back Away From The Place Where My Ashes Are Buried
Previous - this entry written on April 07, 2006 at 5:09 pm - Next

Beborn Beton again.

I want you to know I've found peace in another world...

Moody. Really fucking moody. Slept a long time, but not exactly well. Strange dreams getting stranger, the return of the girls on the other side of the wall, the thousands of other 'me's. Not surprising, really.

I'm trying to resist the temptation to send Caleb out for drugs of one sort or another. OTC, scripts, does it matter? All medications, all little pills, white or blue or red or brown, there to keep the dreams at bay, there to chase away the pain settling back into my bones, there to do what really, I shouldn't need pills to do. To make me feel normal. Sane. Ok. I know I'm not ok, I haven't been ok since I was four, why should today be any different?

I've been snapping at Puppy. Grouchy. Bitchy. I just want to scream. I want to get drunk, to sit for hours in a dark theater watching lives I know aren't even vaguely connected to mine play out in full color and surround sound. Nothing new there either, I always 'want' something, right? Eternally demanding. Never satisfied, not for long, not with this shitty excuse for a day.

I can't seem to cheer up. Maple bars and cranberry juice and WoW, I should be cheerful, I should be happy. I should at least be content. But I'm yawning and fretful, feeling as if there are things under my skin, jittery shifting little mites of emotion waiting for a chance to gnaw through, leap out, flood me.

Having to fight damned hard to keep from scratching at my head. I can feel the lump there, I want to just reach in and claw it out, make it stop pulsing. Maybe the headache would ease then.

Let's look at this logically.

Vicodin. Propanalol. Phenergan. DXM. Ambisol. Gatoraid. Tomato soup, soda crackers. I want to cook up cube steaks cut into bite-size chunks, then toss them into tomato soup, eat the soup with soda crackers. Head & Shoulders shampoo. A filter for the brita pitcher.

The first three things: Stop at walgreens, see if they can be filled today - if not, put in a request for them to be filled on the day they can be filled, which will likely be tomorrow. They SHOULD be able to get filled today but I know my luck.

DXM, Ambisol, Gatoraid, Head and Shoulders, Campbells tomato soup (the generics just don't do it), soda crackers, and a brita filter. The only thing I don't have to have today is the brita filter (and technically the gatoraid but I'd rally LIKE it). The head and shoulders, the ambisol, both kinda essential. The DXM, soup, and soda crackers, all good things and guaranteed to make sure I cook dinner tonight.

I'm going to go get a shower.

Caleb, while I'm showering and when you're willing to leave the house, please go to walgreens and likely to a grocery store or some such, to get the above items.

Puppy, I'm going to tell you this is posted as soon as it is; it's roughly 5:30 my time. At 6:00 I will expect a phone call from you. No, I don't care if you are supposed to be raiding, it's not one you care about anyway.

Kadin, I know you will see this sooner or later; call the cell phone, and leave a message if I don't answer, telling me exactly when you will be awake and at home in the next 48 hours after you call, and leaving your phone number once again because I'm not sure where I wrote it down.

Torian, Nreshan, no, I have not forgotten you two. *nuzzles* I will try to be online later this evening, once I am in less pain and a bit more stable, and spend some time talking. I miss you.

...I WILL cheer up. Sooner or later. Don't I always?

But then, don't I always end up right back here, frustrated and pacing and aching, as well?

Which one is reality?

*shrugs* It doesn't matter. I'm going to go shower.

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