Scratchy

I don't feel well.

It feels like my brain is on its own axis. I turn my head and my brain keeps going. Even though everything is moving faster, my thoughts and my speech, my brain seems to process the movements slower. Maybe it is because its overwhelmed and the movement is too much.

It is hard to write. The thoughts are going through my head like a freight train. I am trying to put something down and I keep having to erase it because it has nothing to do with what I am trying to express.

I am avoiding conversations. I have usually started thinking of something else and ignored most of what they have said. Luckily I have come up with a coping mechanism that has allowed me to pick up on certain words. I use these words to ask questions and start the conversation over so I do not appear rude.

I am able to work 10 hours a day, and then come home and work just as hard.

I sleep poorly. I am riddled with dreams and wake up exhausted. I can see my doctor about getting some help but the priveledge of getting sedatives must not be abused.

I know I am close to the end because I am starting to see things. I see bugs in my food and people in a room when I am alone. My brain feels scratchy.

It is the end that I fear because what is there to meet me is terrifying. I may just slide out of it.

I may not.

I don't want to be sad. I don't want to want to hurt myself. I don't want to make my family hate me.

I just want to be normal.

I need a crazyectomy.