yesterday i started off feeling a bit shitty. i couldn't figure out if i was sick or over-trained or over-dieted, maybe i needed carbs, i didn't know. couldn't put my finger on it. so i medicated myself with anti-flu vitamins and went about my day which consisted of washing and ironing my linen, doing my finances and filing everything. it's probably all wrong but if my dad wants to check it out at least it LOOKS better when its tidy.
anyway as the afternoon drew on i started to feel shittier and shittier. as totally shit as i felt i knew i had to go to gym because Raymond told me, "no matter what, do not veer from your routine. just go through the motions". i couldn't wait for Magnet any longer and he wasn't returning my sms's. i tried calling but his phone was off. he was probably most definitely in the air (he's a pilot) but i took it as a personal affront ANYWAY thinking 'why do guys lay it on thick with me for a couple of days then proceed to NEVER CALL ME EVER AGAIN?!' what was WRONG with me? i scanned my behaviour with him and other guys as well trying to find the exact point where i was fucking up EVERY SINGLE TIME.
and anyway ja, i still stick by my old philosophy of 'whatever the problem, gym'll fix it', and it did sort of - only in that if i DIDN'T go i knew i would've felt WORSE. i'm glad i trained, i did a proper job of my legs. but when i came home i slid into crapness again, only by this time i'd sunk to Shakespear's "Can thou believe thou living is a life?" level and this is never a good sign.
boy, that made me sit up and pay attention. tomorrow i'd be speed-dialing Raymond - my psychiatrist - and inform him that THIS time i'd managed to bottom out in a SINGLE AFTERNOON! and what the hell was he going to do about it? HUH???
sheesh i rummled through my drawer for my sleeping pills, muttering things like 'why the fuck can he not get it right?' and 'i don't want to live at ALL if it means constantly living on the edge of an abyss' when my eyes fell onto my Concerta tablets - a key ingredient in my stability cocktail. until that moment i hadn't realised entirely just HOW key - and i wondered, no i KNEW i hadn't taken one that morning.
i was stunned. the bridge between sanity and madness was held together by one little pill for me. how precarious a situation is that? in fact as i write this i notice i haven't closed my mouth for the last while and, when last did i inhale...
this morning i woke up at 5 to get that pill down my throat and i shit you not, i could almost HEAR the sound of my neurons firing when it kicked in!
and Magnet called to apologise, he'd been flying. of course.
now with balance restored in my Universe i can resume the fabulous life of me!
note to sandy: you can only rule with a clean bill of mental health baby, otherwise they'll toss you on the heap like last week's HEAT magazine. that's if YOU don't beat them to it and toss yourself there first.
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