i liked making things when i was in mania... now i just stare at stuff with no ideas or motivation.
i'll think about printing this out.
the last time i od'd i didn't back out and call help. i wasn't really afraid, or even guilty, just extremely sorrowful over the choice i had to make and how it would affect people. i fell asleep crying. i woke up wishing it had worked and wondering why i was found - if there was purpose behind it. i had prayed that God would just take over, have me found if He wanted... just to please not let me continue like this. i had thought maybe He had a plan, and hope would be just around the corner... the next month i spent in the psych ward a doctor gave me ritalin. i'd never been manic before, and that's what it did to me, i felt amazing, thought i had found something that worked. what i couldn't see was that it was mania, not real "normalcy". it caused its' own problems. that was 3 years ago. i wish i had died... i went over that decision before, i don't want to keep facing it... maybe it's just what i deserve to keep feeling pain over what it'd do to my family before inflicting it. i wish there were another way... but i don't believe there is. i don't know.