i havent been writing because ive havent been feeling or doing literally anything. so there was nothing to say. i also stopped communicating with all but a handful of people.



ive been avoiding writing this for awhile. i dont know what to say. but we are at the point in the spiral where the talking needs to start happening, and because im no longer in therapy because i am broke as fuck, i guess this is now when the writing needs to start happening.


for several months my mood has been shifting from ‘wow, this is what its like to have normal level emotions?’ to ‘uh. im not sure i like normal level emotions…’ to ‘…wait, do i even have emotions now?’ to ‘no…nope i dont’.

I saw my psychiatrist three or four times during this decline. To recap, in the fall he had upped my mood stabilizers and taken down my wellbutrin (anti anxiety/depression meds), and then sometime in like december? i cut my clonazapram (anxiety)  in half because i wasnt feeling really anything, so i wasnt really feeling anxious and im trying not to build up my tolerance.

so. first visit:

me: im having trouble adjusting to not feeling things like i normally do. like it feels like my world is small and i dont know what to do. its making me feel like i am missing out on my proper existence. i know this doesnt make sense.

him: this is unfortunate but mostly normal. try seeing your therapist. we will keep an eye on it. (only nice).

second visit:

me: i always thought once i stopped being actively suicidal that would mean i gained some sort of will to live? but i dont have one. at all. i cant find a reason to get out of bed. i have no drive or motivation to do anything. im exhausted all the time. i dont feel sad, or chaotic, or out of control though, and im not suicidal, so this isnt anything like what i would call depression.

him: so, sounds like youre depressed, but your mood stabilizers are working. have more wellbutrin.

third visit:

me: nothing changed. im getting less and less interested in being alive and im completely apathetic to everything around me. still dont feel sad, or chaotic or suicidal, so it still doesnt feel like depression like i know depression.

him: ok, youre definitely depressed. its weird that the wellbutrin increase had no effect. lack of drive and motivation are side effects of your mood stabilizers. lets cut 75 mg off your total of those and see if that makes the wellbutrin work.

me now:


i cant give many concrete examples, because i have legitimately stopped leaving my house unless it is in a car with a family member, and usually only to my parents house or like, grocery shopping (which is its own little form of hell right now). this is the first of three major signs of when my anxiety crashes into my bipolar and i stop being a functioning human. step 1: agoraphobia step 2: intense fear of germs (see: scrubbing down showers for hours with tooth brushes, for example) step 3: extreme anxiety about animal life. things living underground start freaking me the fuck out. nature becomes extremely unsettling. how the universe is constructed becomes extremely unsettling. step 4: some sort of bipolar break down.

on saturday i had people come to my house.  i was supposed to go to brandons house twice during the week but i had to cancel both times because i couldnt leave my house and was super panicky (side note: it really bothers me that there is a ‘k’ in panicky), so i avoided the situation because i could. brandon kinda knows whats up, but not really. so. saturday. third time trying to make plans with brandon. he and sav have this thing where they watch rupauls dragrace together and the new season was starting and he wanted me to join. obviously, we learned leaving the house probably wasnt going to happen so they were going to come here. ok. then robb was going to come too. ok. day of: sleep schedule massively fucked up. already panicking about having people in my house. brandon invites kale too. i like all of these people. these are literally my best friends. i have a hyperventilating panic attack. i call my parents, stay on the phone for like an hour just basically being unable to talk and crying. brandon says they can go to savs if i cant do it. i eventually resolve to do it, 1 mg of clonazparam and 4 mg of ativan later. they come over. i have basically cleaned my whole apartment but i keep apologizing for how dirty it is because literally all i can see is the dirt of things that arent really that dirty (like the dust i missed while sweeping, and shit). it is mostly fine, and mostly a good night. first time watching dragrace, more enjoyable than expected. people leave around midnight, so basically 5 hours of company. they leave and i then start panicking and overanalyzing everything i said all night and whether or not kale hates me now (we have a convo about the trans guy on survivor and i think what i was trying to say came out wrong). fixate on this for several hours. dont sleep.

parents know i cant take the bus to their house for sunday dinner so they come get me. feeling mostly better and able to function around people, which is good because jeffs kids are there. exhausted, pass out at midnight and wake up at 10am. have moments of talking about my bipolar with my mom, which we dont really do. mostly stuff about being really uncertain what symptoms are coming and how everything is factoring in with possibly going to visit joe, and how joe, while family, having no experience with me as a mentally ill person, and how i dont know if thats something im going to do. manage to go to the grocery store on the way home today. mom had to do most of the work, but i was physically present so that is something.

i came home and cooked an actual meal – roasted a chicken and vegetables. ate that. watched an episode of girls.

so here we are.

i need to call my psychiatrist tomorrow and see if he will change my meds, or do something, because things are bad, and they seem like they are about to get a lot worse. im not scheduled to see him for four more weeks. i dont think anyone anticipated this med change throwing this sort of wrench into life. they weird part is, i dont think it actually changed anything, i think it just kind of ripped the plastic wrap off. like the complete numbness that was on the surface went away and all the horrible stuff underneath is now being felt again.

i guess the kind of fucked up part is i find that a bit of a relief.

now the overarching thing im worrying about -besides breathing, sleeping, the outside, people, public transportation, people touching me, the bipolar shitstorm that is coming, my complete lack of financial stability, etc –  is whether or not i should go to joes with my parents in april. its stressing me out a lot.

also, i got an email notification that theyd made a decision on my giant scholarship application but that i cant access the results of that decision until april 1. so thats unsettling. also im supposed to find out if i got in to grad school in a couple weeks. probably while id be in philly. im…. assuming i didnt get in and also very worried about how im going to handle that. i still dont know if ill go if i do get in. but i feel like having something lined up might help? i dont know.

ok. thats all. im starting to panic again.


and then i sobbed


i dont know how or where to start and im not in a state to figure it out so im just going to talk.

i know love is supposed to be all you need out of things. and it feels like that sometimes. like we’ll figure the rest out sometime.

but i dont know if i can do this. being poly is not a thing i ever wanted. i mean ill do it, because its practical, because it feels even, because it makes other things matter less. because i love him even though i shouldnt. but its not a natural feeling. its a horrible awful feeling most of the time.

i blew off a date this morning, by accident. i legit just forgot. but i dont know, about this whole thing.

i know he expects me to be ok with it and im trying. its not like its his fault im not very good at it. i knew what i was getting into. and hes nice about it. i think in his ideal world his wife and i would be best friends and/or people who fuck, so i mean, i guess we are meeting in the middle at the moment.

so im trying.

but it feels like im giving up so much all of the time. and i get thats its mostly because im uncomfortable and i just need to work on that. but its so hard. and it hurts so bad.

he wants me to go visit and stay in his house and see his life. and like, i want to on most levels. i spend a lot of time imagining how meeting his wife would go and im pretty sure it would be fine, id just have to sleep alone and act like a guest because thats what i would be doing and nothing else would feel right even though he says we’d just sleep in the guest room and it would be fine. and it would, probably, but here we are.

he’s not out as poly and all the things i wrote about last time about married people apply here. he’s not going to tell anyone (besides his wife, obviously) and its just going to be this secret things that exists between the two of us. and theres something romantic about that. sweet little bubble.

but its also sort of awful; like it doesnt count at all. like im overly invested in something i shouldnt be. like when youre in a friends with benefits situation and you start to catch feelings and youre just like ‘well fuck’.

i think that would offend him.

he tells me he loves me all the time and i believe him. which is crazy. but i dont know if it counts in this situation.

i know im getting too far ahead of myself and that the next step is his coming here and seeing if things even line up like they should. like all this stuff is stuff to worry about later.

but right now its all too too much. so im just going to sob by myself until theres no tears left in my body and no thoughts left in my head and thats going to be ok. im going to let myself stop trying for just couple hours. i need to stop trying for a couple hours.


im home and i should be out.

its jons last night here and hes spending the night, he says. then he forgot he had beer planned with friends at 9 30 so i was supposed to go to that. and i tried. i walked to the bar but they were charging cover and i didnt have cash and jon didnt answer his phone so i walked home. jon texted he would spot me but im already here and he hasnt responded to any of my texts since, so. im here. i put on my pajamas i go back and forth between sobbing and writing. im not even sure what im sobbing about… that hes leaving in general, that i didnt go to the bar, that this is what my last night with my best friend turned into i dont know. honestly im exhausted and i just want to go to bed but i cant because im not sure when he’ll get here.

i dont know what to do, internet. someone tell me what to do.

I have mixed drinks about my feelings.


welp. it’s 2:30 in the afternoon, and i’m writing here. never saw that one coming.

I’m supposed to be working.

I’m not. (Obviously).

Tomorrow is Canada Day (stat holiday). I have two massively important deadlines of Wednesday.
Yesterday I went shopping with my mom. I spent $70 on a fucking pair of shorts. I hate you, only pair of comfortable shorts. THen I went to my parents for supper.
Today my Dad called me at 830. then I went back to sleep. then my boss called me at 10. then I went back to sleep. my alarm went off incessantly and I slept. Now it is 2:30 and I am in bed typing this. On the upside, I was supposed to work from home today anyway. And I’m not supposed to work tomorrow, so in theory I can fix this.
Sometimes it’s weird that I have a job…

It is so hot in my apartment you stick to furniture and we go into the hallway to cool down. It is always hotter here than outside. We never turn the fans off. What I would give to live on the other side of the building this time of year.

I havent been drunk in 3 months. I have drank, but not hard liquor (that I can think of..) and barely hit buzzed. I’m fairly certain I am going to get tanked tonight. I don’t have a particular reason. I proved I could do it, maybe? Not drinking helps with the meds. Drinking helps with the friends. and thr anxiety. and the feeling like me. I want a break from life. and life isnt even bad.

I just realized I have to go to the drug store as I ran out of my meds this morning.

i think this is what like… normal low grade depression is. I have been here for awhile. I want to do less. I am not excited about things. But things are fine.

Is it normal to start hating that? I just want it to shove one way or the other; being here makes me antsy. This seems extremely abnormal but I am never very close to normal, as we have previously established.


Brandon’s mother came to visit this weekend. She’s nice. We walked down the boardwalk to the market and got farm fresh veggies. and valley strawberries (aka the best strawberries). Tonight I am going to Kale’s for a Canada party. Hence the slammered. I miss Kale so so so much. Like in my bones. He doesn’t have time for us these days.
I bought an ice cream cake from my sister for said party. my sister is doing surprisingly well at the moment, all things considered. Sean… not so much. In a multitude of ways, not the least of which is that his sister has been in the ICU for 3 weeks now. Doesn’t appear to be progressing much…

My Grandmother is getting age related dementia I think. She’s very clear in the moment, but at any given time her version of events is completely different. And she forgets how old I am, sometimes thinking im older than I am and sometimes forgetting Im not in high school. She often asks me how my thesis is going.
…I already graduated, Grandma…. you came to dinner.

Grampy is dying.
I haven’t visited enough.
I often think about what I will feel when I look back at this time period. Will I regret not getting there more? I am of two minds. First, yes, obviously. I already regret not getting to know him better growing up, though there were a lot of outside forces at play that were beyond my control. And he’s very important to my father, and my father is very important to me, so by nature I should have known him better than I do. But on the other hand… we werent close, and he is in pain and we dont have much to talk about, and when I go with my father he doesnt really even talk to me… I should go by myself tomorrow, maybe. Ask him about his childhood, or something. He must have such interesting stories I know nothing about. This is the time, I suppose. I didn’t really get that with Grammy; they thought she was better until one day she wasnt.

It’s 254. I’m going to go to the drugstore and get my meds and then I really need to force myself to get something done.. anything done. Or I’m going to get in trouble. Which will be awkward because I’m getting drunk with my boss tonight.

Silently screaming


I never thought learning that suicide barriers had been installed on the MacDonald bridge walkway would be this disappointing.

I’ve been looking up the statistics… Because that’s what I do. I like facts. And the facts are that slitting your wrisits and swallowing a bunch of pills have a very low success rate. Like less that 1 in 6 succeed. Nearly everyone with a gun or cyanide does but I don’t really have access to those.

Which is a good thing.

So jumping off something really high has pretty good results, but I don’t think I could ever convince myself to jump off a building into concrete, so the thought of water at the bottom was nice.

I’ve always been terrified of drowning but the fall would break all my bones anyway so I feel like I’d be knocked unconscious first.

But there’s barriers and people and I’m not very good at climbing fences so.
I guess drowning is the next best option. Just fill the pockets full of rocks and walk like virgina woolf.

I wonder if I could do it.