I'm so tired of feeling like I'm crazy. I hate that my meds are affecting my memory, which is normally really damn good. I hate that I can't control my temper or moods, that from minute to minute I have no clue how I'm going to feel. I'm sick of feeling suicidal, which has been happening much more frequently the past few months. I'm tired of feeling like a bystander, an outside observer, in my own life. I hate not knowing what's going to happen with the fucking tuberculosis. I'm exhausted with having to put this god damned façade forth, pretending I'm happy to be me. Or that I'm happy to be alive.
But most of all it's the feeling like I'm crazy that I can't take anymore. It's really pushing me to the point that I might have to call a damn suicide hotline. Or admit myself to a treatment center or something. Because I'm afraid that I'm going to hurt myself. Or my wife or kids. Or my stupid fucking dog.
I was on vacation the last, like, 9 or 10 days. Whatever it was. At least once each of those days I sat alone in my house bawling, for absolutely no reason. Or for a million reasons. Who knows anymore. Today I put insulation in the attic, and had a nice brand new razor to cut it with.
I came so close. So close.
Title: "The Drugs Don't Work" by The Verve.
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