I woke up this morning after a night of no sleep.
A night full of torturing thoughts and crippling doubt; question after question woke me up and prevented me from sleeping.
I’ve been trying hard in the last weeks to get better, to take better care of myself and to ask for help, at least from friends at the moment.
I started working on the foods I eat to give my body what it needs right now and I started taking supplements to get sleep. They help, but it’s a love-hate relationship.
I love that they help me sleep through the night and that I have a much deeper sleep now, but I hate that I need them in order to get any sleep.
As an addict in recovery, it tortures me to know that I need to take something to make me feel better (in this case to sleep better). I know I can’t get addicted to them and that I need sleep to keep fighting, but you know…
This last night I took way too many of the pills to make me sleep, but I still didn’t sleep.
I thought a lot, and I thought a lot about myself and that I don’t want to necessarily live anymore.
These are thoughts that I can’t handle.
I don’t know how to feel about any of this now. And it scares me, a lot.
I’m scared I could do something bad again or something worse.
I guess I’m hoping someone here reads these words and thinks I’m not THAT crazy, because I feel insane.
Ever since I wrote that stupid book of mine… ever since then I am falling apart. I’m guessing it was all a big mistake.
If you read my last post,
I am sorry. I am still here. I am still struggling a lot. I am still trying to be better.
If you didn’t read my last post,
You didn’t miss anything.
But here I am.