Blank Notes

The drugs don't work. It's a constant fear. I can pretend that I am in full control of my emotions. But this is all a facade. Sometimes I just get so... depressed that to do nothing would be a death sentence. But I never can think of something productive to do. So I just write or talk or text or blog or cry. Wow. How depressing a list of things to do.

I have no talent for communication.

That's why I took a rhetoric class. Honestly, all I really wanted to say here was that I don't think my drugs work because it's unusual for me to feel this level of sad without a cause.

Or even more depressing, they can't put me on a higher dose without looking into alternative treatments. I will cry/laugh for days if I also need electric shock therapy. Of all the illnesses I bear (especially the genetic ones, because I just randomly got diabetes so.... but all my other maladies...) depression is the most disconcerting. I don't want to be depressed. Logically I know I am happy with my life and almost everything in it. But logic doesn't mean a goddamn thing to me right now. When I get like this and all I want to do is rage. I want to hurt someone. I want to stop thinking about myself for just long enough to break the cycle of constant self loathing. 

And all I want to do is just yell "It doesn't make sense. It doesn't make sense!"

Because it doesn't. I can't. Deal with this. Anymore.

But I can't think of any other way to turn my brain off. I don't want to drink myself to sleep. Nor do I want to take too many sleeping pills. I want to wake up tomorrow and not feel insane. GODDAMN it. I FUCKING HATE EVERYTHING.

But most of all, I hate my drugs. Because they are broken.

Most likely.

Or I am falling apart.