to talk to, I guess I meant it. I guess I meant it anymore than I could have known I meant it. I thought it through, and it didn't matter. I had no one to talk to, and it's been plagueing me for months. I can't talk to my therapists, because they don't actually care. And they just don't know what I'm talking about. They don't know everything, and no, they can't relate. Some things are fine, I just feel silly explaining things to them and hearing mmhmm, yes, that must be tough. They aren't even listening. I feel like a real idiot. That's why I hate going to school therapy and watching her eyes glaze over, I hate going Devra, but I really need my meds watched over, and she knows too much for me to try to move anywhere. She's used to me. I can't offend her. I don't even like indiv. with Fran. I don't know what to say. And even if I did I wouldn't say anything, because I know her. I see her otherwise. And if she looked at me through any other eyes I would be torn apart and I know I would stop going to YAP too. That would be where I would go if I really needed to I guess- but I know I wouldn't. I know that when the simplest things happen in YAP, and they don't know a fact about me that anyone who knew me one on one would know, I realize that I think of something to say and then I ***** out. I always ***** out. Oh, and I didn't mean like What's my favorite color or Who are my best friends. I mean when they don't know things like that identifying people I can rely on or sharing things publicly in a personal manner makes me very embarassed and flustered and I just won't do it, well, everyone knows that. These are things that when you speak to someone, when they let their guard down around you, you pick up on. You catch these little things- it's human nature.
But I'm a little off topic. There are a million and ten things I can talk to Steve about, if not more. Anything that I think of, and how I feel, and what I want. And I would listen to anything he told me, even if he thinks I don't. But to say Hi, I'm struggling. Hi, I need help. Hi, can you just listen to me get lost and confused and apolygize a hundred times and, well, he would listen. But I couldn't say those things. I would be putting things on his shoulders, I would be giving him more to worry about than I need to. He cares too much for me to let him know I put myself in extra danger. And Shei- I can mostly talk to about those things in the way that she can relate. If anyone would get that, she would. But things are a bit too complicated with her right now, in my mind, that I'm having trouble seperating all those ties and bridges, what I can say and what I can't, who I am around her. It's all too tangled and I'm letting walls crumble that I swore I never would. I've said it a billion times, but I just don't know. And she has so much going on, again, who am I to put anything on her shoulders? She has more than enough already. I know that if it comes down to it I become less Supporting Friend and more Annoying Problem. To everyone. And anyone who says I don't is lying in a pathetic attempt to spare my feelings.
I know I have nothing to say and I should. I need so much and I can't tell anyone that. Not logically. Not in the right state of mind.
I stayed at Sheis' last night. And here I'm starting at night, after meds, and I'm going to backtrack last nights journal. We were going to sleep. And no, I didn't expect I would do something so dramatic. I've mentioned my Ambien issues, but I think it sounds over the top, it doesn't sound real. When I say I danced my house in my underwear, I mean it. When I say I was unconsolable and cried for hours, I did just that. When I say I don't remember anything but seconds, I mean I don't remember anything but seconds. And so, I mean, I remember seconds. I remember eating Reese's and watching the food channel. I remember her saying the word "Hampstead". I remember thinking about the pills I had at home- I don't remember muttering about them and how I could just take them all and die. That isn't even possible. I'm too stupid. I remember how serious she seemed, and I knew she was tired. I don't remember quite what she said. This went on for hours. I vaguely remember crying. But I know I was because I had puffy eyes all morning and a splitting headache all day. I know I cried hard, for a long time. I vaguely remember poking her, asking if she was still awake? I know that I had no concept of time, and it probably elapsed a lot faster than it felt. I do know that she always said Yes. I believe I kissed her, a lot of times. And if that's true, then I know she didn't fight against me. Not that she would? But I mean, I might not have kissed her, had that been her threatening to kill herself at four in the morning and repeatedly waking me up and everything. I scared her. I feel ridiculously idiotic. I feel ridiculous. I just wanted to crawl up in a hole and die. I didn't want to speak to anyone or anything. I know I kept curling up near her, out of sheer loneliness. I don't know if I did that three times or twenty though. I know I woke up at 7, confused because I didn't remember falling asleep. Waking up every 20 minutes until 11. I know I had several dreams. And the first was about her, but good. And so I was happy when I woke up. I also had a dream about Steve, and he got me a vibrator family pack. I guess that's really wierd of me. It was just funny. It was a vobrator and a dildo and a mini trampoline. I was laughing then. I was so happy to see him, and I didn't get why at the time. Then again, maybe it was irrelevent. I had a dream I was lost in a furniture department store, and it was complicated. I don't remember anything else about it. I went home.
My night and morning didn't seem important anymore when Steve got here. I had got his texts around 6 that morning, about how much I meant to him and how he loved me more than he ever had. I thought hit was sweet and it cheered me up. It sounded like him, but something sounded off. I was still a bit confused though. But he walked in my front door and he hugged me and didn't let go for a solid few minutes. It felt right, till I realized he didn't know anything had be wrong in the first place, and Wait a second, Steve, what happened? He had a dream that I and his mother had died. He wouldn't tell me details about his dream except that he spent the next few dream days crying and puking and generally falling apart. And then he was still crying when he woke up ad 6 in the morning and he had been up since then because it felt real and he was so upset about it. For a time he thought he would never hug me again, never carry me again, never kiss me, or see me, or speak to me, or any of those simple, mundane things. That we take for advantage. If that sounds self centered, maybe it is. Maybe happiness is being self-centered. But I was glad to see him again too, and if he never wanted to let go, I would stay there the rest of my life and hug him. The whole thing made me very sad.
We ended playing COD a lot and watching Comedy Central and I made cookies and being grumpy and tired and needing my forehead rubbed because I had such a headache. The day flew by, I think. I was dizzy, I didn't want him to leave still. I was fine by now though, med wise, I just was lonely still. It was a long day.
O'm scared to take my Ambien. I'm scared. This morning I was deadset on stopping- but it's going to be too much. I can't handle it on my own, and I don't know if I can speak up about it. I guess I have to. I'm terrified to take it, and terrified not to. I'll just go straight to bed and not let myself move.