"Everything’s a copy, of a copy, of a copy."

Man, I’m tired.

So, my cheerful friend is gone for sure. I’m back to being my “usual” self. And I’m really tired because I’m a dumbass and know I can’t sleep well but in addition to that I go to sleep no earlier than 1am. Genius, right?

I saw R on Thursday. Told her about my cheerfulness, my mood, and all that jazz. She decided not to change my medication for now, and just see what happens, because already on Wednesday my mood was starting to go back down. And, she confirmed what I was thinking, that Prozac can cause euphoria in some people at first. I guess I was one of the (un)lucky ones.

You know, the cheerfulness lasted until Wednesday. Then on Thursday is was gone and I was even having urges to cut, thoughts about death, feeling like just sleeping forever, crying, a lot of self-hate, etc. It was severe stuff. Thursday wasn’t a very good day. On top of the fact that my appointment with R was just “meh”, I was also feeling a lot of emotional baggage because my mom was in a bad mood. I’m so sensitive to my family’s moods (especially my mom’s). Is it the BPD? It pisses me off. I really hate that about myself. (Oh wait, what don’t I hate about myself? Hmmmm….)

But it’s kind of difficult to accept that it’s gone and I’m back in square one. I mean, I’m feeling relatively ok. Fucking tired, but ok….on the surface. Deep inside I’m clawing at myself a bit because my life feels like it’s going nowhere right now, and my lack of sleep is just making things absolutely and irrevocably WORSE. This previous week the Prozac-induced euphoria compensated for my lack of sleep, but now it’s gone so….

I need to sleep. Seriously. I don’t know what the fuck it’s going to take for me to be able to have a good night’s sleep lasting at least 8 hours and during which I don’t wake up once except until it’s time to get out of bed. I’m tired of this lack of sleep. I’m tired of the constant headaches.

And it just makes everything worse. My negative self-talk gets worse, I get pessimistic, depression gets worse, I get suicidal, cynical, and sour…not a pretty sight. I also start to pick at my face a lot and my cheek biting gets worse. I’m angry…all.the.fucking.time. I start telling myself that I’m an ugly piece of shit while looking at myself in the mirror (oh wait…that happens all the time).

The Prozac might do wonders, but if I don’t sleep then nothing’s gonna get better.

Will somebody please send me a few peaceful hours of snooze-time? They will be very much appreciated.

  1. Just found your blog. You give me hope that some day I can make it to med school too.


  2. Hey there, couldn't help but check out your blog and replied there 🙂


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