Forgot my real journal.
Going up on the lamotrigine. Really pumped about it, only not that pumped b/c I’m super down.
Super.
I hate this time of year. Obviously I think we’ve caught on to that. Waiting on the upswing.
All of my best memories are with you.
^^^^Statements that are false. But you know when you’re sad and lonely how you can only think of one thing? That’s where I am.
“I want you to see it before anyone else.”
Why? Because you love me? Because you know I’ll be upset otherwise? Because old time’s sake?
I want to see it before anyone else. But I want it to be for me.
It’s not for me, is it?
I always hear the lyrics first. You? What do you hear?
I haven’t been hungry or full in a month or more. I eat when I shake, or when I realize I took meds without food and feel nauseated. It’s like my stomach went numb.
I talk about money too much. Fixated.
Selfish.
Things are terrible in the world and I am selfish.
All of my best memories are done. I feel like I haven’t made a memory in a year. Isn’t that weird? All of the memorable things I’ve done this year and I feel like I can’t remember them.
I barely remember anything. Cannot get up for work. Cannot work. But I love my work. But I’m not doing any work.
I need new music. The world needs new music. I cannot write music.
Cannot cannot cannot.
I think of things that I cannot do all day every day. Because I could have done them, if I’d learned or worked hard.
Even the things I could do, I can’t do anymore.
Who am I, if not a runner, or a dancer, or an actor, or a dog trainer, or the one who dresses nice and always look good for work?
Who even am I.
Sorry for this irrelevant stream of consciousness.
Someone write it in a song, because I cannot.
