This is a bit different - I don't want to sleep. Normally sleep is such a precious thing that I chase and crave it. I had my baseline sleeping pill and pain relief a couple of hours ago, but I just haven't gone with it. Instead put on some shoes and went for a walk in my pajamas. Nothing like my epic dark hour marathons of the past, but I had to get out. I had to move. I'm so over being trapped and caged and immobilised and useless and tied and tired and sick and heartsick and in constant grinding pain. The sleeping pill acts at least in part as a painkiller, so I expect that was why I was able to walk. Only a few blocks, but it felt like old times. No cane, and I was pretty steady on my feet.
I need a circuit breaker. I feel I've been on the edge of a big cry for a few days and would indeed welcome it. I did get something of an adrenaline surge this evening when TribbleJ and Buffy managed to knock a glass in a some kind of 4-dimensional spiral and wet down the powerboard feeding my laptop, mobile phone, house phone, and external drive. Got everything turned off and unplugged before the unit started to buzz, so hopefully no further damage done. But it wasn't what I needed.
I need to snap. Not to snap out of it, but to snap – a raw explosion of expression. I need to feel something that isn't the crushing weight of responsibility of just hanging in there and getting through another day. It's no longer enough to retreat into sleep at the end of the day. A hearty crying session would probably do the trick, but though I've felt on the verge for days, I've lacked a suitable trigger. Maybe I should just sit and wallow in sad shit until I cry but that's not my jam. I don't want to leak tears – I do that all the time and it fixes nothing. I lack viable and deserving targets for an obscenity-laden screaming tirade. I will absolutely not get behind the wheel of my car in such a state. I'm a damned cripple with limited physical options so punching things or running is off the agenda.
I did briefly consider self-harm this evening, but mostly as an intellectual exercise. I was thinking that stabbing a large knife through the back of my left hand might wake me up some. A useful insight into another branch of mental illness, considering my usual focus of reducing the pain, settling the anxiety, getting sleep. If I want pain, I just need to wait. Maybe it's the illusion of control that's so attractive.
I haven't had any alcohol this evening, oh no. Alcohol is for pain relief and sleep, and that's not the plan for tonight. Combining alcohol with a mood like this could be bad. Not going there.
Maybe writing this will set me off, but it hasn't yet.
I want to live, not die.
I miss being able to smell horses. That feels like a particularly cruel theft.
I miss feeling strong.
Time to stop this, maybe do a few dozen sudoku.