I’m stuck in my head. Last night I kept looking at the mirror because I felt I couldn’t trust it. Like it wasn’t my reflection. My reflection was stolen. And now I feel there are messages in music.

I know it’s not real. It’s not real. But it just gets to me. It’s poking through and it’s distressing.

And I realized I won’t have enough seroquel to last me until my next doctor’s appointment. So no matter what I have to see the doctor sooner than I expected.