“And I had to shake my head. I can't regret the times we had together.
Sometimes I worry I won't have times like that again, that there will be no lit nights,
no incandescent days. But I know it's not true.
There can be colour in a million ways. I know I'll find it on my own.”
Foreward: perhaps it feels worse when you've recovered, because you have farther to fall?
Things are getting bad again...took five times my prescribed dose of valium last night to sleep (still well within the safe zone of course). I just wanted things to slow down and my chest to stop aching. God, I really don't want to go down this rabbit hole again...I just need a friend, a carer, someone to make me cheese on toast in bed and come back half an hour later to take the cluttered plates away and tossle my hair. There is just too many components to my trauma, to my personality, to my history and I want to blot it all out.
Postscript: I feel better now but I feel this is worth documenting anyway.
“But I’m just a fucked-up girl who’s lookin’ for my own peace of mind; don’t assign me yours.” —Clementine Kruczynski (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, 2004)