He'll be pissed

I see the pdoc tomorrow. I'm sure he'll be pissed that I didn't call him 2 wks ago like I was supposed to. Didn't want to tell him I quit the Nortriptyline. I plan on mentioning nothing about the way I've been feeling. I don't want to be prescribed another pill. I'll risk taking my own life to not feel like a zombie. It's a harsh trade-off, but one I'm prepared to make. Besides, the thoughts of being nothing more than a human guinea pig in the psychiatric community have taken hold again; and I believe them to be genuine and logical and true. I'll just go in there and ask for a refill of the Seroquel because I can't sleep without it. Try to get out as fast as possible while revealing as little as possible.

The post I lost yesterday was just a running transcription of the thoughts swirling thru my head for over an hour. Very scary stuff. Jumping from one thought to the next with little cohesion. It's not as bad today. There are thoughts, but they linger long enough for me to grasp hold, study and then toss them aside on my own.

I think I want to be crazy. Or even crazier than I am. It gives me a total release of responsibility. Something I think I desperately need. I've been crushed by responsibility since I was a child. Whether it be my own doing or that which was laid upon me by others doesn't really matter. That thought of course is contradictory to other thoughts I have that I'm an adult and I have a child. I need to be responsible and really don't desire to relinquish it. I like being in control. But yet I'm not in control despite trying to be. It's weird. Hard to grasp the concept because it's so at odds with itself.

My brain is starting to churn. Best get to bed before it takes off on a whirlwind ride to nowhere except sleeplessness.