Woke up just after 11:30. Something in my body just felt like I had a hundred thousand bricks laying on top of me. The hunger was not even strong enough to get me out of bed.
When I finally did get out of bed it was because I had more information being requested for my funding package for school. Somehow I found the motivation to go to that and now it’s an hour later and I am back in bed.
I know I should be outside enjoying the sun. I know that I should hop in the shower to wake myself up. I know that if I even just step outside for a moment it will change the way I feel.
But I don’t want to. I just want to sit here, back in bed. I want to sit here and process things. I want to process my life. With all it’s greatness and all the sadness.
As I was driving yesterday I realized that when I did my 12 steps in recovery, I didn’t quite complete them. I hold huge resentments against myself, and they come up every so often. The kind of resentments if I had just stayed at my parents house with my daughter, after my mom’s birthday dinner – just as they had asked – my brother would be alive another day. But no – I just had to go home. For what reason? Because there was drugs there.
And even the resentment when my brother voiced that he was sick and didn’t want to go back to the psych ward. He showed me his wrists and I didn’t even remember anything about what he was talking about. I told him to suck it up. I didn’t take him seriously. I told him he had his neice to live for, after he said he had nothing to live for.
The resentment about not wanting to get clean off meth sooner. I missed so much of my entire families lives in this time. I missed so much.
I am just so mad at myself for being absent for so much. And now I feel like I’m being absent again, but for all the different reasons. There is a sickness that lived inside of me, and it’s no longer drug addiction. It’s just a sickness and it’s driving me back to bed.
I feel like I am failing as a person lately. Even with my boyfriend I am so reactive over everything. I don’t want to be like this. I don’t want to spend half the days regretting what I have just done.
I feel sick and I feel well all at the same time. The part of me that feels well just thinks that this should be good enough. The part of me that is sick thinks that it could be worse.
What if I am more sick in the head than I realize? What if I am really an awful person to be around. I’m so loud. So overreactive. Explosive. Unruly. What if all these things I thought were just a part of my loud personality are actually things that drive people mad?
I’m overthinking. Just as I thought I was coming down from the mania, I guess it turns out I am not.
So I will sit here in my bed, in the dark. And I will think a little bit more, about all the things that I shouldn’t be thinking about. Because I don’t have a handle on reality right now.
I need a few moments.