Saturday, May 31, 2003

This is not a love song

Hi. It seems that lately I've posted with a bit of a sense of humor, irregardless of what the subject is. This might not be one of those kind of posts:

I'm feeling a bit down right now, to tell you the truth. I'm close to tears. Before I explain, I'll admit that, based on the tone of previous posts, it may be hard to take seriously. Some who read it may laugh or think it's funny. It may be parodied, even by me someday, I suppose. I accept that. I'm still willing to make myself vulnerable.

This is still a Journey Inside My Mind. I may often, through my writing here, give an impression that I have it all together, that all is well with me emotionally, physically, spiritually, etc. Well, that's not really the case. I am dependent on medicine for my mental health. I'm currently taking an antidepressant, Lexapro, and an anti-anxiety medicine, generically called Diazepam. I struggle with depression and anxiety, you see.

Furthermore, I've written before about my struggles with self-injury. That is exactly what it sounds like. Many people don't know how to relate with someone who self-injures. Even seeing the words, I feel a slight sense of alarm myself. Yet it's true. I create scabs on my body and pick at them to relieve anxiety I feel.

I've done some research, and I realize that it's a way I've developed to cope with stress I feel. I know it sounds counterproductive, but it makes sense, from a certain point of view. I get a "rush" from the pain felt from picking at a scab. The pain associated with that activity is better to feel than emotional pain I feel from something else. I've done this since I was about 7 years old. I'm 33 now.

I currently have four scabs on my scalp. I feel their tenderness as I type these words. I've been able to leave them alone nearly all day, thankfully.

So I have that to deal with.

Then, today, it appears that I've developed another migraine. I took my last Imitrex a few hours ago, and I've put a call into my doctor for a refill. I have to wait until 6 PM to see if someone actually called it into the pharmacy. Because it's a Saturday afternoon, I'm thinking that it might not be called in until Monday. I'm hoping that's not the case, but, at the same time, I'm trying to be prepared to accept it, if it turns out to be the case. I've already spent a few extra hours in bed, and I'm ready to head back there in a little while.

I doubt if anyone really enjoys feeling sick. I sure don't. Tears are welling in my eyes right now. I just hope things feel better soon.

Until then...

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