2 am

2 am and I should be in bed, trying to fall asleep, but here I sit...in front of this damn computer reading blogs and now posting on my own. Sleep has been hard to come by lately. The reduction from 400 mgs of Seroquel to a mere 50 mgs has improved my diabetic symptoms but has made it nearly impossible to sleep. I could take the Trazodone that I'm supposed to be on, but there is such a great trepidation each time I do that I end up having a major panic attack.

Guess I need to update the list of blogs I read because I noticed some people haven't been posting and others have disappeared completely. Hope everyone is ok or at the very least surviving. Could also update what I'm reading but that hasn't really changed. The Time magazines are stacking up again, think I'm 4 weeks behind, and I haven't bothered to finish either of the books by Dean Koontz or John Saul.

Haven't really bothered with much of anything. Just spend the days sleeping, watching tv or playing word whomp on aohell. Doing anything to pass the time that requires no effort on my part because I've got nothing to give. There's no life inside of me right now. I go thru the motions with my daughter, the only human contact I've had lately, trying my best to wear the "everything's fine" mask. Laugh when I should laugh, show concern when I should show concern, force myself to shower at least every other day so as not to embarrass her when I drop her off at school, etc. The only motion that has any meaning whatsoever is telling her daily that I love her because I know she needs to hear it and because I really do love her.

I keep hoping this funk will pass, and past experience tells me it will, but I wonder how bad things will get before it does. Will I end up back in the hospital yet again first? Will I begin to lose touch with reality and do stupid things like try to overdose again? All the mistakes of the past keep repeating themselves because I never learn from them. At times I try to do the DBT skills I've learned, to make things better for myself, but when you feel so dead inside, nothing seems to make a difference.