The theme song of my life at the moment. I am afraid to write this post because someone may take offense to it, namely everyone in my universe. I do not want to be medicated anymore. But, everyone else seems to know what is best for me. Even the person I cared about most in this world. My husband. I know that all will be denied. I know that I will be labeled insane. I think that people around me are using medications to screw up my head. There I said it. I am switching from one pill to another pill to another pill and then there are those around me using that to their advantage. Each time a chemical imbalance occurs, it is so easy then to give me say a muscle relaxant to screw up another receptor, or something say I'm mildly allergic to to make me feel sick and wonder what the heck is wrong with me, or say just a moment of sadness at what has been happening with me and someone feels that I shouldn't be this sad and upset. I am screwed in the head. I know it. I feel I am being punished for something. What did I do to deserve this though? No one deserves this. These drugs are not mixing well and my brain is so cross wired that I feel like swiss cheese.
I wish I could think straight.
I wish I wasn't afraid.
I wish I could turn back time to when I thought that everyone around me loved and cared for me.
I keep asking myself....what would have been the harm in letting me believe that I was loved. God, why couldn't I have died in that fire? I would have died believing my husband and family grieved me. Maybe that is a selfish thought. But, right now? I am left with the knowledge that people in this earth felt I had a daughter I didn't deserve, a life I didn't deserve, I husband I didn't deserve and now I must pay for all of them.
Do I know that someone (someone who would know my passwords to my gmail and therefore my blogger) is going to read this and then with that inside knowledge is going to hurt me further? Yes. Sadly. But for my own sanity, I needed to write this down. I needed to pretend for the moment that this stupid, cry for help was private. I needed to pretend that God or my deceased daughter is listening.
Is that crazy? I am thinking that there are loads of people then that also are.
I am mourning.
Not only the life of my daughter and how very much I will miss her.
I am mourning for myself.
I am mourning for my son.
I am mourning for our future.
I feel it is all over.
Rereading what I've written, it sounds so very much like I am suicidal/psychotic.
Chemically speaking, I am.
Will anyone out there believe me?
Can anyone out there help me?
Do I know my fate and still feel powerless?
Do I know that it is entirely possible that some helpful soul will dose me once too many times, and cause my death either directly or indirectly?
Will it appear to be suicide?
Are there "friends" or "family" that would secretly love to see me deteriorate and then be first in line to tell the world how they only wanted to help me?
Oh god, I"m so afraid that the answer is yes.
Writing this down, I realize there isn't a soul out there with enough compassion to see things how I see them. I sound like a lunatic, therefore, I must be one.
I am so afraid.