I'm Bad at Life

Things I should probably do:

1.) Homework.

2.) Clean.

3.) Be a productive human of society.

Things I'm doing now:

1.) Worrying about whether or not one of my tonsils ruptured.

Sugar and Spice, Plus Everything Nice

I have some decent energy today, which means I'm baking cupcakes from scratch and cleaning most of the kitchen. My episodes haven't been lasting very long, but when I'm down, I'm severely depressed for all in all about twenty minutes to an hour. I'm not on any medications, so it could just be some lasting manic symptoms from my old medication. I really wish though I could have my Adderall back, so I can focus a little better, and eat less. That would be really nice if I could stop shoving food in my face hole again.

Lately my hormones have been on and off. And honestly one thing I really want to do is suck some major dick. But that's just me, I like giving head because its a mindless activity. It doesn't matter if it's an actual face-fucking, or I'm doing all the work, it's fun. But I haven't been able to do it much lately, and my jaw gets sore easily now and I can't throat very far without gagging up something awful. Honestly, if I had a submissive I would probably make them face-fuck a dildo every night for like a half hour, which will help open up the throat, suppress the gag reflex, and make my jaw last a little longer. It's little things like that I like, wearing plugs for so long every day, masturbating without getting off, etc. I know I like to say that I don't like being micromanaged, but it's the only thing that usually works for me. I don't know of anyone with time and energy to do that, so I try to rely on other means. Jesus, just tell me what the fuck to do and I'll usually do it, but I don't always just do anything. Dominance sometimes has to be established, training has to be done, it's not like a perfect submissive comes out of nowhere.

Of course, I've been pretty terrible lately. I haven't able to focus on it lately because of the depression lately. So I screwed up, it's no one's fault on that. Sometimes I just wish I had another chance to kind of prove myself again. But we'll see I suppose, things have been getting mildly better, so maybe things will change. Maybe.

Exacto Blades are My Best Friends

I always thought I was stronger than I thought. But most days I tend to prove myself wrong.

Things have been on a steady decline, though my moods are more stable and I'm no longer suicidal.

One thing that scares me is that I'm unable to handle any kind of emotional pain. I can't handle being replaced, or abandonment. I have extremely mild jealously issues, they aren't bad at all. But when you aren't played with hardly at all, why should someone else get any attention? I'm fairly certain I'm always only temporary, there are always crazier, prettier, skinnier girls. I don't know why anyone wants me most of the time. I don't want special attention, I have never wanted it, I also don't want it out of pitty. If I could just be treated normally, that'd be fucking fine. But being in a D/s relationship is hard sometimes, they're erotic, intense, passionate, whatever. And my current situation makes it kind interesting because I'm in a D/s with a couple. They have their issues, and they're reflected on to me. They are also all I currently have.

I tried going on a date as of a late, which ended with some dude trying to stick his tongue down my throat. He brought zero interest to the table. In fact, I give zero fucks to anyone interested in me. If this relationship ends, I'm quitting the scene, and probably dating for a very long time. Actually, I kind of just want everyone to leave me alone. Even those close to me.

I know I'm doing this to protect myself, because I'm extremely vulnerable at this point in my life. I know I will be replaced, I know I will lose my sense of security. Nothing is permanent, it doesn't matter what is done or said. I will probably always be alone.

Violence

As of late I've felt kind of confused. I'm usually always confused, but things have been weird.

I haven't been on birth control for about three months and my sex drive has been awful and crazy for weeks. I haven't had an actual sex drive in years. It's conflicting because I'm used to being dormant and in control. I'm used to getting sex whenever I wanted it, getting whatever I want done to me. I'm used to being dangerous and meeting strangers off the internet consistently, with very little known about these people, except for a safe that may, or may not be used.

Back in January I stopped doing this. The fuck buddies were unsatisfactory, I felt lost because my desires were so extreme that finding anyone to full fill them would be nearly impossible. Sex was boring, and it is usually always boring. But I go between extremes which is hard. Too much sex, too much sexually stuff going on tends to numb me out, and I get used to it, bored. Now that I have to ask permission to do anything, but sex drive is higher than normal. I can't be touched without being converted in a pile of girl goo. But it can't be romantic, it can't be passionate. It has to be forced, dangerous. Sometimes I really wonder if my sexual desires could be a real danger to myself. I mean, I'm into some not normal things. I don't want the ability to say no, or to stop from someone from hurting me. I've been assaulted before, even raped. I know how it feels and it doesn't feel right. But I can't control how I feel during these situations, sometimes that scares me, most of the time it doesn't.

I've left dominants because I've been bored. I've broken up with girlfriends and boyfriends - because I've been bored. This violence fetish has a good grip me on me. It's something I shouldn't be obsessing over, but I do. I love it so much I can't live without it.

In fact I'm fairly certain I love my fetishes more than I love actual people. It's such a strong part of me, I'll never let it go. I'm actually pretty sure it's going to be the death of me.

I'm pretty high on Adderall and I don't really give a flying fuck anymore.

It's been a while since I've taken it and I can feel kind of weird and jittery.

I need it to focus, concentrate, to not suck in school. Because I don't function without it. I sit in class staring at a piece of paper, unable to even really process what's going on. Usually when I'm on it I'm able to get shit done. Now, not so much. I can't get myself to really email my professors to tell them what's going on, or get my classes for next semester figured out. I really just don't care anymore, which isn't really good.

Nothing going through my head is really good.

I don't know anymore, I just want to be alone and get my shit figured out. But that's not going to happen anytime soon.

As of late I've been lost.

And I'm still kind of lost.

I think it's fucking retarded. I'm twenty-two years old and I've forgotten how to function like a normal human being. Shit was supposed to be okay after the visit to the hospital. I mean, sure I learned some coping skills and other shit that should be useful when I have the actual energy to expend to make things right again.

But things haven't been alright. I've exhausted most of my outlets. I use the counseling services of my college, I had a psychiatrist until I was unable to afford the copay and the forty minute drive down. I've stopped taking all of my medication, simply because I can't afford it.

I tell my counselor things that are going on, I tell her how I can't function or cope with school, my job, life, simple things. And she just tells me to make a list and do the things on there. But when you are absolutely paralyzed by your mental state of anxiety and confusion, you can't get anything done. My head runs a million miles a minute, jumping from one thought to the other without hesitation. I can't concentrate for more than an hour on something, especially my artwork. I'm so bored to tears by it, I just can't come up with something that seems to be good or interesting. I'm exhausted all the time, even after eleven hours of sleep. She has stopped helping me, and believes that I'm just sabotaging myself to graduating. I want to graduate, I want to be done with school. But my life has me cornered and I can't back out.

Since the school psychiatrist prescribed me the drugs that landed me in hospital in the first place, you'd think that things would be get better. Seeing a better quality of help, getting the right medications, yeah right. The hospital prescribed medications I could not afford. I can't afford Latuda, even with insurance. I was fine on the samples they gave me, now not so much. Now I owe a hefty hospital bill, because of the school sending me to the hospital, where I didn't get the help I needed. Also, the hospital took me off of my Adderall, and I haven't functioned the same since. I don't like to admit I have an addiction, but I know I can't lie to myself.

Thanks, Avera Psychiatric Hospital, and university. Thanks for really fucking my shit up for me, if I wasn't doing it fine on my own.

And because Avera didn't get my medical release papers to my job on time, I had to quit or get fired because of my missed days in the hospital. So that put me in a money bind. Now I have a new job that's only temporary and pays less. I'm hoping my skills in jewelry can land me a permanent position in time.

But yeah, right now I'm in a weird kind of purgatory. I'm not functioning at 100%, and I only took 10mg of Adderall today (but I'm running out fast), but I got a few things done. I feel so bad all the time though, contacting my professors, trying to explain to them what's really going on. It's terrible, saying that because you can't afford the medication to make you right, that you have to miss class and be miserable. Try a new medication maybe? How about doctor's just stop using me as a fucking test animal and get me some real help.

But honestly, I do believe I'm just screaming into a black abyss that's going to swallow me whole.

Emotionally I just keep snapping, my ability to feel any actual human emotion is dwindling. I have nothing to feel except exhaustion and fear. Fear of failing, but I don't have any energy to turn it around.

I feel so bad for relying so heavily on my friends, they can't handle me either and I understand. I am not their responsibility, I should be able to take care of myself. But even I can't do that.

Shit I should do for this week:

1.) Talk to my professors about how much I suck at life and seeing if they can cut me a tiny bit of slack with my absences and late work.

2.) Call the hospital and negotiate my bill.

3.) Make appointment with the psychiatrist that will give me back the Adderall so I can actually focus again and try to be normal.

4.) Take care of myself as much as possible.

Yeah, sounds easy I suppose. Sounds really fucking easy.

I have my fingers crossed, but hey. I feel okay now, so I should feel okay for a little bit longer. If I start to slip again, I can call someone at least. At least I know that I'm not alone in this and that some people do care if I absolutely lose my shit. Fuck, I just hope through all of this madness they never let me go.

Fuck Fuck Fuck

I may or may not have had a super seriously fucking crazy few weeks.

I may or may not just fucking vent the shit out of myself right now.

Ready, set, go.

I was on stimulants and a bipolar medication during the last semester of school, which worked out nicely. I made Dean's List again, which felt good. I was creative, I was pushing myself. I felt normal for the first time in a long time.

Then back in May, my university physician took me off the Abilify because it was making me sleep too much. And then upped my stimulants again, and also put me on a thyroid medication, thinking maybe that'd give me more energy. It was more energy than I could handle, and I did a lot of things I regret in my manic phase, which lasted about two months. I spent too much money, I worked too much. I slept very little. But I kept getting things done, and I was happy until July rolled around.

I came back from a camping trip with my parents, and I fell into working eight days in a row at work. Everyday it was an eight hour shift, and my energy levels started to drain. On my days off I couldn't get anything done because I was so tired from working. The apartment got messy, I couldn't take care of myself like I wanted. I then had a few friends visit for the weekend, and while I planned on working my seven day streak, I ended up calling in for some of it because I couldn't go to work with the bruising around my neck from having too much fun. It was a good, refreshing break. But I still felt exhausted, I wasn't sleeping like I should have been.

Right after working a few days I went right into an eleven day vacation with my family. About eight family members and me took an RV up to upstate New York to visit more family. The entire ride there I got very little sleep, and I couldn't sleep while we were driving. I was extremely tired most of the trip, and I sat in the back near the table with my ear buds in, listening to old music from middle school and high school. I was left alone inside of myself without distractions. That's when the flashbacks started to happen. And I mean, every little memory in my brain started coming out, things I never thought I would remember, things that I had repressed with ease and never thought of again, starting coming forward. I know the past is the past, but the emotions regarding these horrible situations were taunting me and dragging me down. The ride back was the same, sitting in the back and trying to forget about the fighting family members, and the extra money we have to deal out because of someone's miscalculation on gas. Everyone consistently fought, the tension was so thick in the air you could cut it. I wish I hadn't gone, and instead saved my money, and maybe myself. Once I got back I stayed in Aberdeen for a few days while my car got worked on. I paid over $600 to get my car fixed, when it ran just fine. So most of my money was gone, and I was struggling to pay my credit card debt and keep my head a float long enough to pay some rent.

Right before I came back to Brookings I became seriously ill. I developed a terrible cough and my throat was insanely sore. I still worked the entire time I came back, but I was dry heaving and consistently running to the bathroom. I ate nothing but a can of soup everyday, I was so nauseous I had to force feed myself. The news that an old classmate had died didn't help either way, and at one point, as I was sick, I started to seriously question my mortality again. Mom said I shouldn't go to the emergency room, but everyone else did, and I accidentally overdosed on acetaminophen one night. I awoke with night sweats and convulsions, but I was so sick that I tried to calm myself down and sleep some more before my impending shift at work. 

It took a week and a half before I started to get better, and I tried my hardest to be social. I knew I was falling apart, and I needed to stay in people's company because I was afraid to be alone with myself. My moods had become erratic and hard to control. My hair had even started to fall out from the thyroid medication, everytime I had my hand up in my hair, strands upon strands started to fall out. I couldn't sleep most nights. I sought relief with the card I always kept in my back pocket, and that was the card I always used when I was backed in a corner. Suicide was consistently on my mind at that point, and thinking about it had brought immense comfort to me. No one knew exactly what was going on, but I wasn't about to taking about it. I was up late one night searching the internet for my prescriptions, to see what I could easily overdose on. My Adderall was the best bet I realized. 

About a week ago my room mate announced that she may or may not have bed bugs... and that's when I started to break. I had lost my security and safety, which was my room. The one place I could go, and be away from everything else. The paranoia set in, as I knew it would have been a matter of time before I had gotten them. I didn't have the money to clean everything... or get rid of my infected things. I felt even more trapped. Last Wednesday I had probably the worse day at work that could be imagined, I had sobbed in the bathroom twice, and screamed at a coworker. I was just one person, but they wanted me to be five. After work I went home, and then went with some friends to hopefully get my shit together. I stayed at their place, but my mood had started to sink, and I was soon nearly catatonic. I was staring at the TV, watching Oblivion. But there was a problem, I could hear the words, but they were not making sense in my head. I had complete brain fog, and all my fear had disappeared. I could barely talk, but I figured that if I took Adderall, I could understand more.

It ended up not helping, but instead increased my anxiety. The horror movies we watched started to drive me insane, and I couldn't stay in one place. I walked around, trying to get somewhere comfortable. I suddenly had a realization, a rather scary one. After chatting with a friend on Facebook about it, I knew I had a hard decision to make the next day. I had a doctor's appointment, and I could make an emergency counseling appointment, and tell the honest to god truth about what had been happening and possibly be hospitalized, or just let them know some things weren't going well and try not to off myself. I didn't sleep that night due to the Adderall, but that didn't matter, I couldn't function because my moods were so unpredictable with or without it. I went to my appointment unshowered, jittery, and sleepless. I got to the end of the appointment before I blurted out something about my violent urges, and that's when they called an appointment. I didn't care if I missed work, I was scared for myself, I was losing complete control and I needed help. Getting in with my counselor I let her know everything. I told her everything that had been happening, that I wasn't sleeping, that I had lost near 50 lbs because I couldn't eat, that I was so moody I couldn't function. And the worst of it was my violent urges. I couldn't hurt myself anymore, and I couldn't hurt anyone else. But I could antagonize and find someone who could hurt me, and possibly take me way over any boundaries I had and land me in the hospital. I wanted pain but I couldn't have it.

After some deliberation, the counselor told me that I was going to need to be hospitalized up in Sioux Falls. I was scared, and less than thrilled. Luckily most of the Adderall was out of my system, and I was able to go to the clinic in Sioux Falls without being handcuffed in the back of the Sheriff's police car.

While there at the hospital, I talked to many people who were trying to help me. My doctor realized that I shouldn't have been on such high doses of stimulants. It was causing me to crash and burn every day, if not multiple times a day. So the first days I spent most of my time sleeping. I couldn't read or understand some things, like my brain was completely fogged over. I also hardly ate. He had taken me off most of my meds because they were the ones that had been fucking with my head, and I felt the effects. 

Things got much better when I started socializing with the other people who were here for most of the same problems. I made a lot of friends, and I started getting much better. I was able to myself again. After being hospitalized Thursday through Monday, I feel as though things will finally be okay. I made my mom cry, which she doesn't often do, but at least she knows that I'll be fine. School starts in less than a week, and I do believe I can make the semester alright. Despite money problems, and shaky relationships, I know I can make it out alive. I'm realizing now that I can chip away at my problems and make things better. I'm just to know I have the support and love from my friends, because without them I may not be here.