To Be Alone in Every day scata

Some random thoughts…

I’ve been counting pills in my mind. Last night, while trying to ease my back by taking a warmish-cool bath with Epsom salts, I thought “yes, this is the right temperature to die in.”

I’ve been ignored for so long it doesn’t even bother me anymore. I just go about my mindless way. I’m tired of looking for recognition in the place I reside. I’m a ghost that wanders the house.

The mind games have ensued again. This, I have a hard time ignoring. I want to lash out in anger, and ask “Why do you think this is right? Why do you want to hurt me so badly?” But I guess I deserve it. I mean after all I’ve done over the years. Payback is a bitch.

I really want to lay down. I don’t know why I don’t seem to be allowed to take a nap, or rest my back.

Being detached from the mental pain (for the most part) brings the physical pain to the forefront. I am in agony 24 hours a day. I would have gone to the ER the other day, but couldn’t take the chance of not being at “work” here at home. It just would have caused so much trouble.

I’ve stopped doing all my projects. I can’t seem to make myself do anything, even though these things make me happy.

No, I have not called my shrink. I have an appointment next month. That is soon enough.