Monochrome Kiss

Have a new membership, so might as well use it....I can't figure out how the heck to make the fancier applications work on this site alongside it. (If it were me, technology more likely than not would have ended with the egg timer. )

Did not make the job. Am very disappointed, but nothing I can do but keep looking for another. Stupid, stupid *&^%$ing economy. I guess I'm not too surprised; there were over 170 applicants for maybe a dozen positions, but sucks nevertheless.

Weird dreams at night lately-not certain whether or not I want to keep taking my anti-depressants. To be honest, I very rarely got ANY sleep at all on my first ones, and am extremely reluctant to take that back. On the other hand, I've been noticing my heart start pounding shortly after I take the stuff...makes me feel nervous and weird and occasionally, kind of sick.





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No coffee with Trazedone.

Can't believe Spring Break is almost here....in two weeks. Totally unreal. I was going to spend my week off at GSU, but my Aunt suggested I come home to Savannah for awhile, which does sound tremendously nice. It's been three months since I've seen a family member.

Still am without a phone....which means it's been awhile since I've heard from any of them, too. That's primarily my fault however, because I stubbornly insist on getting the same version of my old phone....and they don't ship to P.O Boxes, so my new phone is in Wheretheheckistan right now.

As my test is drawing up, so are my thoughts concerning it. Lately, I've been focused on pure enjoyment...my "pure enjoyment" being writing crap and doing very little. Including studying for that test I just finished. Good Lord...

It's almost hard for me to see people enjoying themselves-I've become extremely intolerable and resentful around my fellow students. I can no longer stand to hear anyone talking while I'm working in the lab, and I find myself escaping to the library more and more often. I'm really happy that I found my old headphones; I feel much better when I can block out the world for a little while. I HATE looking at it in that way, though, and I can't stand feeling the pressure on my head for very long. It's weird.

I'm really afraid of the results. I keep rehearsing how I'm going to tell my family; if I'm positive, I just want to say it once. I don't think I can stand saying it multiple times.

There's a "Death with Dignity" clinic in Oregon that chronically ill patients can visit to receive a lethal injection. Technically, I think I might qualify later if/when the disease progresses, but am still afraid. It's so ridiculous. The religion I grew up with strongly forbids suicide by any means (Most do, frankly), and while I think I'm an agnostic girl...I AM afraid, either way. I'm terrified that I might have to beg my sisters not to push a feeding tube down my throat when I'm dying and barely coherent. Obviously, they can't flip off life support-that's illegal and I can't stand the idea of either of them being murderers.

And yet, wouldn't the fact that I wouldn't be hurting anymore make the act a merciful one?  Vets never "kill" animals; they "humanely euthanize" them.

I'm afraid of staying if I have the disease; afraid of falling apart. The simple answer then is to NOT fall apart, but I can't stand the never-ending hell that's not knowing, and it's so much easier said than done. My mother fell; broke to pieces.

To be honest, should I have it, I feel obligated to put an end to myself so that I don't have to ride up expenses in some freezing nursing home where they drug you all the time. I see what the staff does to Grampa; they drug him on his bad days so that he doesn't make a sound.

My family insists that I don't think about it so much. And I REALIZE I shouldn't. But I'm looking at a 50-50% chance here, folks. I feel stuck either way. Mother talked of going to sleep and never waking up. I've contemplated suicide a number of times because I'm a coward. Anger means that I haven't given up...thoughts of suicide simply mean that I'm considering throwing in the towel before I've even lived.

At the same time....oh, the hell with this. There's no definite answer. I don't want to endure like my Uncle Cole only to be in excruciating pain, and at the same time, I want to believe that I can find something in life that 'vali

Oh, this is absolutely pointless. I am talking to myself, and nothing changes. Absolutely nothing. It's HILARIOUS! Worse than that skank Carrie from SATC, I think writing and moaning about these things CHANGES ANYTHING! I SPILL OUT NEARLY EVERYTHING TO THIS STUPID JOURNAL, AND IT CHANGES NOTHING! It's pathetic and stupid and so freaking hilarious!