Thoughts of a Dying Atheist [entries|friends|calendar] RMZFLX [ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ] [ calendar | livejournal calendar ]

[03 Nov 2009|03:19pm] [ mood | blank ] How do I feel? What do I think? What is it that I want, and how do I get it? How do I know? I really wish I believed in "God's plan" right now. Having a little time to think hasn't made anything easier [yet]. go.

Despair. Emptiness. See the Hatred Wasted on Yourself. [29 Oct 2009|01:37pm] [ mood | morose ] Nobody understands how I feel, not even my fucking therapist. Oh really, is it ME that has the power to change MY life? I had no fucking clue! Thank you for that useful information that's going to instantly snap me out of the anxiety and depression I can't control. I'm well aware that I have to help myself, the problem is that it's myself that's the problem. I don't want to be depressed and anxious, but I don't know how not to be. I feel so fucking pathetic. It's so hard for me not to hate me. I don't know what to do. The drugs and therapy aren't enough. I still feel trapped inside of myself and begging for help. This would be the moment where I would pray to God out of sheer loneliness, fear, and desperation, but I don't feel like talking to myself would necessarily make anything better. Well, it's worth a try I guess. Help me. I'm miserable and desperate. This is just about as awful as one could feel before they quit life altogether. I don't want to have anxiety, I don't want to be severely depressed. Help me. Please, help me. I'm losing it. I need to keep my shit together and do all the assignments and shit and continue on. I don't even know how to write the thoughts I'm having and the feelings I'm experiencing. I was doing so well too. It's not over yet, just a bump in the road or whatever. I'm trying to stay hopeful, but I feel like a weak and pathetic little child made of black clouds. I'm stretched out sooo thin with all the responsibilities I have and I don't have any time for myself. I wouldn't even know what to do if I had time for myself. I want a break so bad, just to relax and recover and think about all this shit, but I can't, and that's what makes it so much harder. 3 comments go.

[20 Oct 2009|04:38pm] *shrug* I'm only going to be far more confused before I get some clarity. I'm trying. 3 comments go.

Statistic [17 Oct 2009|01:46pm] I'm so lost and confused that I have nothing left to lose. I can compromise anything I thought I believed to get myself out of this hole. I started anti-depressants, despite all the shit I've talked on them all my life. The doctor gave me Ativan also, which is supposed to be like a stronger version of Xanax but it didn't feel as effective as Xanax to me when I tried it during a panic attack the other day. Go figure. The medical professionals encouraging you to get off natural drugs that grow from the Earth and take their man-made pills. I'm off the wagon, also. I don't wake and bake anymore, I don't smoke weed all day, but I now vaporize at night before bed or after all my work is done for the day. I've proved to myself and my psychiatrist that weed isn't the only problem, just a contributing factor. The truth of the matter is my anxiety is FUCKING AWFUL with or without pot, and I don't think I'm hurting myself by using it to unwind after my work is done (but definitely not all day, everyday, on the hour every hour like I used to.) I have a lot of conflicting emotions that I'm having trouble writing about, every time I try I find it's challenging. I'm feeling better overall, but I'm going in waves here and there. I'm getting more patient, and I'm learning to be less irritable and angry every day. I'm still pretty depressed, but I'm doing what I can to get out. I feel like I'm getting close, but I'm still unsure what exactly I'm looking for. I guess I'm just trying to be content and happy in my own skin, then I can be happy in the world. go.

[15 Oct 2009|06:17pm] [ mood | depressed ] I don't even feel like I have a heart or lungs, it feels like a gaping black hole. go.

[15 Oct 2009|02:48pm] [ mood | crazy ] Lonely, scared, desperate... I don't even know how to write about it anymore. I feel so lost. I'm trying to figure everything out. My brain hurts, I can't even concentrate. I feel insane. I'm so frightened and desperate. I just want to feel normal. I feel loopy and kinda doped up, even before I took the anxiety pill. I can't properly form thoughts, I'll have to come back to this later like everything else today. If only I could pause all of life's responsibilities for a period of time while I figure this shit out with myself. I have so many of my own issues to deal with on top of all the deadlines for school and the internship, it's so hard. I'm depressed, I feel weak and helpless. I had to practically run home from class today so I didn't have a panic attack in front of anyone. I feel like I'm trapped inside a tiny, dark dungeon and writing, "help me" in the foggy mirror, only the dungeon is my skin and the mirror is the back of my eyes. I feel like I'm waiting for something that I have no idea if it even exists, let alone if it will ever come. go.

Start Over [11 Oct 2009|04:17pm] [ mood | okay ] No one can tell you just how immature you are quite like yourself. I'm hitting the Reset button again and starting over. Today will be much better. Today I won't make excuses, I'll be more patient, I won't beat myself up, and I will conquer math. It's so hard to put things into perspective sometimes, but when something finally clicks you just gotta run with it. go.

Still [10 Oct 2009|06:59pm] [ mood | groggy ] I can hardly see straight with how tired and anxious I am. I'm all tripped up from jogging and melatonin and non-marijuana stress relievers that aren't a fraction as effective as the real deal. What ELSE can I do? I still haven't even touched my math homework, I'm just chanelling my pot addiction into bullshitting on the internet (which I typically have no desire to mess around on the internet anymore unless I have to for school or something) and running errands. TV isn't even the same anymore, and I fucking loved TV. So conflicted. I wanna learn to manage my stress some other way, but all I wanna do is vape and get the tension out so I can move on. It's kinda like masturbation or sex. I don't know how most guys feel about this, but I see being horny almost as a burden. I mean it's fun and all, but I view horniness in the male as representative of tension that needs to be released, and the release is all that really matters in the end. The feeling of a weight off your chest, the relaxation, the lucidity... I think the main reason we get horny (besides sexual attraction) is because we're anxious to release tension. I may be reading too much into it, but that's how I see it, and that's pretty much how I view pot as well. The second that tension is gone, you start, "thinking like a woman" as they say in There's Something About Mary, and it's easy to concentrate on anything and everything else that needs to be done. Weed is like my sex, and being celibate is making me crack up. Seriously, why can't I just DO the damn homework? I've always had trouble with math, but it's not impossible for me to do it without weed... right? I feel like a whiny bitch, but that's really not what it is; it's more like deep-rooted anxiety and a feeling of being too wound-up and unable to loosen up. I hate this shit. I keep thinking I could just vape and get this over with, but I don't wanna fuck up the emotional progress I've made, and I'm really just doing it for my psychiatrist at this point, not those God-fearing drug addicts from MA who believe they're helpless (I'm only going for the support, I have no desire to be part of that crowd). Grrr, I hate this. Textbook withdrawal: cycling between depression, irritability, anxiety, and euphoria. I want my concentration back, and I want my brain to stop hurting. go.

War With Numbers (I Don't Wanna Without Marijuana) [10 Oct 2009|01:15pm] [ mood | nervous ] I had anxiety all day yesterday. I wanted to do get started on my math homework, but I couldn't bring myself to at all. All day. I honestly can NOT think of anything that gives me anxiety more than numbers, I really can't. Crowds give me anxiety sometimes, surprises give me anxiety, standing up for myself gives me anxiety (though I do it all the time anyway), but nothing fucks my shit up quite like numbers and math. I came to terms with the fact that I'm not a math person several years ago, and I've been forced to take like NINE fucking number classes since college began... ELEVEN if you count economics because it also had formulas. If you were to check my academic record, you'd see I'm remarkably consistent in that I barely pass any class that's even minutely quantitative and I excel in anything involving thought or creativity (humanities type stuff, English, philosophy). It gives me anxiety because I feel like I'm being repeatedly shoved into this mold that I've fought so hard to break out of my whole life. I figured out what it is I'm good at, and not even college is allowing me to fully explore it, instead it's more like, "Yes... writing, creativity, that's great. Now interpret this abstract bell curve and find the standard deviation of the 3rd power of the coefficient FUUUUCKK." It drives me fucking crazy that nobody has any respect or reverence for my inability to calculate anything or tell you what the damn "3" at the end of the problem means... it's a fucking 3! 3 is 3, 3 means nothing to me. In real life, the number-person who gets what the hell the "3" is would interpret it and tell me what I need to know instead of just "3." I don't go around forcing accountants and math majors to channel their creativity into something like art or literature, so why the fuck do I have to keep doing this song and dance? I understand it's "good to know" or whatever, but that makes the assumption that it must not disturb anyone's sleep or trigger semester-long panic attacks, which it most certainly does to some people. I've literally had my stress show up in a physical form on my forehead for the world to know how freaked out I am, and I've had to get shit from the dermatologist to hide it because it seems to reoccur. I remember a professor handing out a math test 2 years ago and he noticed what looked like mutated acne and road-rash on my forehead and joked, "What happened to you? Did you fall? Ha ha ha..." I glared into his skull and responded, "That's actually from studying for this specific test. My body doesn't handle stress very well." Yeah, that shut him up. My eyes can't even read lines of formulas from left to right all the time, they begin to spin and the numbers, letters, and obscure symbols begin to float off the page and orbit eachother with Hebrew symbols, hieroglyphics, and ancient runes... I feel like I'm trying to decode the fucking Matrix or something. I've said before that my war with numbers is about the same as my war with God; I despise the symbol of absolute "certainty" when we're all equally-ignorant human beings, yet it's forced upon me on a daily basis anyway. Calculations never take into account factors of human emotion, and that's a big fucking problem. I wanted to Volcano soooo bad yesterday. I was going nuts. My routine for years regarding math homework-- or most any homework-- has been to get high enough so that I'm not anxious anymore and just do the work. With math, the process is vaporize, vaporize, be very productive for an hour or so, get stressed, remember I still have a bowl going, vaporize more to kill off the new-forming anxiety, then keep working until it's done. It works very well for me. I understand most people get stoned and get too lazy to do anything, but I've literally trained myself to get high and automatically get shit done. It was very hard for me yesterday because I'm trying to learn to deal with anxiety without weed, but-- simply put, weed has helped me get my math homework done in a timely and efficient manner for several years now and I couldn't bring myself to open up the textbook at all yesterday, all I was thinking about was how much easier and simpler it would be if I could just vaporize a little and get started. Then again, my taking a break has likely caused my tolerance to plummet and I might not be as productive while stoned anymore. I don't know; anxiety paralyzes me at times, I feel scared and helpless and unsure what to do. Again, the point is for me to learn to deal with anxiety without pot and I'm still having trouble with it, especially with the big, evil math demon breathing down the back of my neck. I'm gonna go on a jog. You know how they say exercise is just as effective as antidepressants? It's true, because antidepressants don't make you happy, they just make it so you're not depressed and unable to complain. After I jog, I'm too exhausted to even think, let alone bitch and panic about homework. go.

Wall [08 Oct 2009|09:03pm] [ mood | embarrassed ] It's my buddy Alex's birthday today, and he wants to go out to one of our favorite bars called Lucky 13. Wouldn't you know it, I'm having anxiety. I had a moderately stressful day at school in which EVERY class threw goddamn numbers at me, resulting in that special breed of headache one could only get from math. I feel that I handled the day very well overall, but I got anxiety on top of my math-headache when I found out he wanted to go out for his birthday instead of go to his house as the original plan was. Now he's my friend, and it's his birthday, and I of course want to be with my friend and do whatever he wants for his birthday, but I can't really help the way I feel. I just went to visit him for an hour or so in case I don't end up showing up to the bar tonight, and of course to give him his gift (because I'm not bringing a toaster oven to a bar). It's still kind of embarrassing that I get anxiety over such dumb things, but I seriously need at least 24 hours notice before going out to mentally prepare myself... don't ask me why, it's just how I get. I hate it. I'm still in good spirits, though of course I'm very tempted to smoke. I can fix myself a drink, put on some metal, and shoot some zombies on the Wii instead (replacement addictions, I suppose, but name me a human being without a vice; you better believe religion counts too). *sigh* I'm almost at a loss for words about how I feel, it's just as frustrating and depressing as always but I....... I dunno. Hm. I do have a little anxiety, but I guess I'm totally fine otherwise. It's weird. I still don't know if I'm going to go, it's depressing. My friends are there, the people I love who were at my own birthday party 2 days ago, but I'm stressing about being out in the outside world when I can feel safe at home. I keep saying it, weed abuse may have exacerbated my anxiety, but it's not the CAUSE of my anxiety. It comes from within. Judging by things I've read on anxiety support forums, I'm not convinced it will ever go away; I want to learn to control it or at least manage it. I don't even know what to say, or what to do really. I wanna just loosen up, but I feel like that's something I've always had trouble with. :/ I'm a little anxious, embarrassed, dumbfounded, confused, blank, fearful.... and confused (again). If I can't wrap up a thought, then I don't even know how to wrap up a journal entry. Hmm. Okay, I got one: Will Ramsey overcome his confusion and anxiety to have a couple of beers at Lucky 13 with his friends? Find out next time on, "Thoughts of a Dying Atheist!" 1 comment go.

Recovering [08 Oct 2009|10:23am] [ mood | cheerful ] I've been too busy to write in my journal the past few days, but moreso the reason is because I haven't really been emotionally charged enough to write... I meant that as a very positive thing! I'm doing well, I'm laughing and smiling all the time as if I AM high, my appetite is slowly but steadily returning... well my sleep is still really fucked up, but I'm getting there. I went to an MA meeting on Monday and got my 7-day chip to keep me motivated. I actually like the program, I just hate the whole "higher power," "God," "I"m helpless and out of control," "external locus of control" bullshit. You don't need God to be a good person, and I'm feeling great! Tuesdays and Thursdays are the most tempting days for me to vape because I get anxiety from school (they've seriously been DROWNING me in numbers lately, as if I went to college to be logical and not creative for the rest of my life), and also because I have a 3-hour break during the day where I come home pretty stressed and usually vaporize the worries away (or save them for later, anyway). It's all good though, I've already found lots of little ways to keep me from being stressed aside from booze, lol. My birthday kicked ass, I had so much fun! I didn't need to smoke at all, and was not even as tempted as I thought I was going to be. Some things even got passed to me a couple of times, and I very casually passed them on to the next person. Everyone has been SO SO SO supportive of me and telling me how impressed they are because either they don't think they could have done it so easily or because they never expected me to stop of all people in the world (I also thought I'd be the last to stop). I drank over 2 liters of beer (about 7 bottles) and a whiskey ginger ale and I was flyyyying. I'm nervous about going to my math class right now, but I feel confident because I take even LESS shit from people now, and I do it with a smile from ear to ear :D I love when professors realize they're powerless over me, it's really a beautiful thing. No man, nor government, nor god has the ability to contain Ramsey Flux. Learning the formulas and all that shit is actually twice as hard for me now as my concentration still isn't fully recovered yet, but I'm uh... hm... I guess I'm just not as worried about it. Everything else seems to be falling into place, so I'm sure I'll get through the barrage of numbers these "educators" are trying to bring me down with just fine. 2 comments go.

If It's Not One Damn Thing, It's Another [04 Oct 2009|10:00am] [ mood | awake ] My psychiatrist also asked if I've ever had bloodwork done for thyroid disease. If it turns out that I have hyperthyroidism, then I seriously doubt marijuana could exacerbate it. I've avoided any form of needle being stuck into my body since well before high school even ended... that's a long time. I actually remember the last time, I had this weird rash thing in 10th grade or so and the doctor said she wanted to put a shot in my left hip. I calmly told her that she will be placing the shot in my arm instead. She replied that it will take much longer if she put it in my arm and it would correct the problem more directly if she stuck a syringe in my side. I replied that I have plenty of time because everyone at school already thinks I have herpes, and there's no way in hell that needle is going anywhere but my arm. Ramsey won. It's feasible that I've had thyroid disease for a while and I don't even know it. Gah. I'm gonna have to get tested and they're gonna stick a massive bloodsucking skewer into my vein and have the audacity to be like, "You alright? How are you doing? What are you majoring in?" during it and I'll have to resist the urge to say, "Fuck you. If you wanna have a conversation, then get this fucking needle out of my arm." But the upside is that the needle would be the worst news if I don't have hyperthyroidism. Symptoms of Hyperthryodisim (An overactive thyroid): nervousness irritability increased perspiration thinning of your skin fine brittle hair muscular weakness especially involving the upper arms and thighs shaky hands panic disorder insomnia racing heart more frequent bowel movements (that's an understatement) weight loss despite a good appetite (sorta; if I'm high like a kite and I still can't eat, I'd say that's a problem) lighter flow, less frequent menstrual periods go.

Fear and Loathing at... LoveFest!? Seriously? [03 Oct 2009|06:49pm] [ mood | cold ] Oh today. It began with yet another night of the worst sleep I've ever had, even though I've been taking enough melatonin to drop a goat. That's a new feeling, I usually don't wanna get up in the mornings but lately I've been hopping up easily because I'm sick of waking up every 30 minutes. I'm more irritable than usual in the mornings lately, which blows because I was never a morning person to begin with. I keep snapping at all sorts of stupid shit, it's so goddamn annoying. So today was LoveFest (which they changed the name to LovEvolution, but that's retarded and I'm not using it). I forced myself to eat a cereal bar in the morning, and I do mean forced because it felt horrible in my mouth and I nearly gagged on it. I only forced myself to eat so I could drink later, even though that's not enough food still. Jessica and Amy both had work, so I was going to LoveFest to meet up with some friends. Jessica and I are both going to get on the metro together and she'll get off a coupla stops before me to go to work. I'm not sure exactly how it started, but I broke down before we could leave. I think it was all the pressure I was feeling to get myself out of this hole and not alienate my roommates at the same time (haaard), knowing I can't smoke at LoveFest, and knowing that I was about to get on an a very overcrowded metro to go to a very crowded event. Like I said, I broke down. I had a full-on anxiety attack of the magnitude that I was all too familiar with. My lips went painfully numb, I couldn't stop crying, and I had that awful feeling in the rest of my body that feels like emptiness, deep despair, and hopelessness. I had a textbook panic attack and I haven't touched pot since Wednesday morning, that all came from inside of me. Jessica was able to help me calm down after a little while, and we headed to the muni. Of course, the muni is completely flooded with people my age, half-drunk and dressed in rave attire. I was just mentioning to Jessica that I don't know how we're going to pay the fare if it's that crowded, and she just took my $2 and told me to save her a seat while she gets our transfers. It really was like a human flood, all the seats filled instantly and I was standing in the center of this muni moshpit doing everything I could not to have another anxiety attack. Jessica came back in a few minutes and told me there was no way we were gonna get transfers because there's too many drunken sluts in the way. I got off 2 stops after Jessica, and of course the MTA police are there checking for proof of payments. I was honest, because I feel like honesty is all I really have right now, and I told her that I have the $2 right here but not a transfer because it was way too crowded to get one on the muni and I was having an anxiety attack on top of that. I was so pathetic, I was shaking all over and begging for just a little empathy because it's not like I didn't WANT to pay. I could hardly sign my name or take my ID out of my wallet because I was shaking so bad. The officer put a hand on my shoulder and told me that it's okay, I'm not going to die. I told her that the ticket sucks but that's not the reason I'm shaking, the ticket is the cherry on top of a shit-week sundae. Long story short, the officer was as empathetic as "she could be", but she was still doing her job so I had to get a ticket (but she explained to me how I can protest it). Great. LoveFest was more crowded this year than the last couple of years, and I was battling my flight response the entire time. On top of that, it was seriously like it was 420 or something. I'm not even exaggerating a little bit, I literally could not look ANYWHERE without seeing pot leaves everywhere, or rasta colors, or people smoking bowls or blunts or joints, or just smelling it. Talk about temptation. I was like the only person in San Francisco not smoking pot, it was hell. I tried to force myself to eat some more so I can drink more, but I couldn't eat much. Eating has already been so hard for me in recent months, let alone the fact that I don't have an appetite because my stomach is used to a THC trigger. I've been starving for months, I just haven't had an appetite (well before I stopped blazing). Even if I wanted to just get drunk already, the whiskey didn't even taste right to me. Nothing tastes right at all. I ended up leaving LoveFest a little early so I could go home and be an anxious shut-in. Today was very challenging for me, but at least the day is almost over. One day at a time. At least I can smile and laugh again, but I still have the inherent rage and anxiety that cause me so much grief. Ugggggghhhhhhhhh. It's so frustrating, I wanna leap out of my skin. Am I doing better? I don't know. I mean, yes, but today was very emotionally draining for me because I've basically been in panic mode since I woke up and I've been trying my best to keep it quelled all day. I'm home alone, and still pretty anxious. I want to turn on my Volcano so bad and just relaaaaaaaax and forget about the outside world that stresses me out so much. I won't though. I guess I'm gonna blast some digital zombies on my Wii, or crack open a beer, or watch a movie, or go jerk off or SOMETHING to mellow me out. Is it possible to be too sad to even masturbate? Did I find it? I thought it was supposed to get easier each day. I gotta try to keep in mind that I'm fine. I'm frustrated, irritable, and rather unpleasant to be around, but otherwise I guess I'm... fine? That's weird. I'm no better at optimism than I am at pole dancing, but I'm learning. go.

Day 3 [02 Oct 2009|01:30pm] [ mood | hungry ] I'm already feeling better. I had a very short panic attack today related to a school assignment, but it was like half of the anxiety I usually feel (maybe even less). I'm back to smiling again, I can laugh easily again, and I'm huuungry. I think I'm about past the physical addiction, but I’m still addicted to the behavior itself. I've been having a little trouble forming and completing thoughts when I'm talking because my brain is still recovering from a virtual absence of sobriety for 4 years, but I'm fine. My brain is acting pretty wacky in general, but it's getting easier. I can't concentrate worth shit though, lol. It's ironic, I always said I was a high-functioning stoner because I was so used to getting high and knocking out all the responsibilities for the day (so I complain less), but now that I'm off the reefer, I'm having trouble maintaining eye contact or even a simple conversation. My vision keeps getting blurry here and there too, but I'm sure it'll go away pretty quickly. I had to write it: I'm fine. Pot does not define me, but I let it define me for too long. I still have some depression issues I gotta work out as far as how I'm supposed to be okay with life in general and accept it for what it is. Ugh. I'm sure I'll get there someday. In the meanwhile, I think I'm gonna treat myself to a new video game or something because Ramsey quitting weed cold turkey is something nobody ever expected to happen, especially not Ramsey. I deserve to shoot some fuckin' zombies or something... or I'll kick Obama in the face if I see him because he's actually supposed to be in my neighborhood for the PGA tour. I might go to an MA meeting tonight called "Castro Weed Patch," which I'm assuming I'll be part of the straight minority. If not, there's another one on Tuesdays called "Friends of Bud," but I'm not sure I want to attend that on the evening of my birthday. An MA sponsor is probably good idea, as I've found an anxiety sponsor recently and talking to her about my anxiety made me feel a lot better. I think it's also harder when I'm alone, but I have control. Yesterday I was doing things like opening up my weed container and taking a biiiiig whiff (and I actually felt a little better, lol), and I'd watch my roommates so I could blaze vicariously through them and smell the sweet smoke around me. Ahhhh. I don't know if that counts as cheating, but I sure as hell did not get high and I will continue to resist the urge to pack myself a bowl. I'm sure I can chill out perfectly fine without pot, I just gotta re-learn how. 5 comments go.

De-weeded [01 Oct 2009|02:10pm] [ mood | blank ] The psychiatrist suggested I stop using pot for 4 to 6 weeks to gauge how much of my anxiety is actually related to some kind of anxiety disorder and how much can be attributed to the pot. I don't wanna go off on the whole indica vs. sativa rant and how I don't pick up sativa quite simply because I DON'T enjoy having anxiety, but I agree with her more or less. I understand the experiment, and I agree that I use way too much pot, but my complaint is that I don't think the world sucks because I smoke weed everyday, I smoke weed everyday because the world sucks. I'm very open-minded to the idea that cannabis exaggerates my anxiety when I'm using it far too frequently, but I still feel like it's the best thing for when I DO have anxiety because it instantly calms me down and keeps my brain at about a third of its' usual pace, which I find to be far more livable than my natural, erratic, thinking-too-fast-I-wanna-fucking-scream mindset. I'm bummed because I don't like the idea that I've basically always been unhappy with life, I found a way to make life tolerable and livable for myself, and now I find out that it may have actually been hindering me also? Where's the way out? I'm not suicidal anymore, but I still fucking HATE life & existence and I need to find a way to get myself through every day. One day at a time, like I always say, except this time I actually am a recovering addict. That bothers the shit out of me too, I feel so embarrassed to be abusing weed of all drugs. I'd much rather have a cocaine problem, or I'd much rather have a heroin addiction... hell, a caffeine addiction is more favorable than being a pot addict. Part of me is actually considering attending Marijuana Anonymous, but my hangups are that I don't even wanna HEAR about fucking religion, let alone do the Lord's Prayer, and that I keep thinking about that scene in "Half Baked": Thurgood: My name is Thurgood, ("Hello, Thurgood") and I'm addicted to marijuana. Bob Saget: Marijuana? Marijuana?! I used to suck dick for coke! Have you ever sucked dick for marijuana?! Granted, I've been using marijuana several times a day virtually every day for about 4 years (like .6 to .8 grams a day), and quitting temporarily is gonna be fucking HARD for me because I've never even tried (that's how hedonistic I am). It's been about 29 hours since I last "used," and it keeps shifting between not that bad and very difficult. I had to distract myself with other shit all day yesterday to keep me from vaping weed, but all I've been thinking about for the most part is getting high. Not even at the end of the day? Not even before bed? I don't have any appetite or much desire to sleep. I already feel a difference, and the difference is that I don't feel as anxious (I've definitely learned that I need to vape waaaay less than I normally do), I feel more depressed than I usually do, and I'm like 4 times more irritable than when I vape regularly. These still sound like withdrawal symptoms-- and they are-- but I feel like anyone that really knows me knows how ON-EDGE I was before I was a stoner, and knows that I'm typically always ON-EDGE unless I had some pot within several hours. It's my personality; it's not cool, I don't care for it anymore than anyone else does, in fact I probably hate it more than anyone else possibly could, but I've been on edge my whole life, it's sorta how I was raised. That's where my affinity for pot began, with the realization that I don't have to be on edge all the time about nothing and that I don't need pills to do so. I needed to write all those thoughts down really bad. I feel so much better. No pot means more drinking, more video games, more eating (if I get an appetite), and much more metal. I gotta go distract myself with something else now. God damn I miss pot. And what about my fucking birthday next week?!?! If I can't do what I enjoy doing on my birthday, why am I even alive? Seriously. I'm not on Earth to work forever, I'm here because I didn't have a choice in the matter and I wanna enjoy myself before I die. 4 comments go.

[29 Sep 2009|09:55am] This is the second time this month that I had to rush to my toilet in the morning and wretch out mucus and digestive juices because of my inherent nervousness. It's bad enough I hardly eat anymore, but I'm too anxious to keep even digestive liquids down in the mornings. Mornings really are the hardest part of the day. Night is very difficult too, the day is the "one-day-at-a-time" part. go.

"Poker Face" [28 Sep 2009|01:18pm] I always worry that my sheer terror is always plainly visible on my face. I get told told very often that I don't come off like I have anxiety, and that's a great thing, but it sort of furthers my anxiety because it makes it harder for me to find a way out when I need one. For example, I may come off as the ideal person to do most of the speaking for the group project, but I personally feel like flying under the radar as much as possible because going out into the world is more of a challenge for me every single day. It doesn't matter if I'm only going to meet one person, it doesn't even matter if I want to see them, I've been borderline agoraphobic with how anxious I've been. I've kept my phone on silent all weekend. Who does that? I can hardly handle a simple ring or a beep out of my cell phone anymore without freaking out and getting choked up. I fear checking my email every time. I'm a shaky mess, I can't even pity myself anymore. I just wanna go home and stay in my room all day and not see or talk to anyone or have any regard for deadlines. I HATE being so fucking sensitive. I haven't felt like me in ages. I'm tired of trying not to cry with every step I take. go.

[22 Sep 2009|04:38pm] God damn today was bad. I was feeling unusually calm and relaxed the past few days, but I had a feeling it was the calm before the storm. I had a 3-hour straight panic attack this morning, that's like a new record for me I think. I still made myself go to class and I walked into my class late, which is a math class and they were supposed to be reviewing for the midterm today, and I sat down. I saw that everyone seemed to be working in groups and there were a crapload of numbers on the board and I had no clue whether they were answers or problems, and I sure as hell couldn't bear the thought of asking anyone what was going on or working in a group... every time she says to work in a group I do my best to keep my eyes directly on my paper and calculator and pretend I'm at home because numbers give me anxiety as it is and I don't want to be working with people as if I know what I'm talking about. It's difficult, I feel like a crazed lunatic. I couldn't have sat there blankly more than a minute. When I realized that I didn't have my water bottle with me-- the one I drink from obsessively and nervously when I'm feeling really anxious in class-- I just got up and walked out. I've never done that before. All of the next class I had to do my best not to burst out in tears because of the tension and depression inside of me, and the fear of that fucker professor cold calling on me if I didn't look like I was paying enough attention for his liking. *deep sigh* I gotta go take a test now. I don't know how school could possibly accommodate students with anxiety, but I'm doing my best to learn to control it. I'm getting help, I'm seeking support, I want to be normal again. 1 comment go.

[02 Sep 2009|01:25pm] I finally got a psychiatrist appointment... for the 30th. It may as well be next month. The next 4 weeks will be very challenging for me, but then again, so has the last 3 years or so. go.

[31 Aug 2009|01:28pm] [ mood | anxious ] Anxiety is... a room full of your best friends downstairs, and you're too anxious and depressed to even say hello. Anxiety is... sitting in a pitch black room, curtains drawn, in bed with all the covers on, with no intention of sleeping, in the afternoon. Anxiety is... doing your best to come up with excuses because nobody ever lets you leave it at, "I'm not feeling well." Anxiety is... the curse of persistent hunger, only to have any food that touches your tongue turn into intolerable garbage. Anxiety is... having to text back your best friend because you're too choked up to talk on the phone right now, even to them. Anxiety is... everyone else doing their best to calm you by telling you not to be "sad" and not to "worry", while knowing that anyone with anxiety just wishes they were merely "worried" or simply felt "sad". Anxiety is... typing much faster than the words can leave your mouth, because you feel like you're being choked by your own words when you talk. Anxiety is... when you don't want people to see your eyes, because they say, "miserable desperation without articulation". go.

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