I'm still counting

Eventually I fell asleep this time as well, some time after 3:00 am, early Sunday morning and I have slept from then until 11:00 today. By then I had been awake for 91 hours, almost 4 days. I'm not sure what made me crash this time, I usually don't see the reason. Perhaps the pain, confusion and tiredness just got too much to handle. It's hard to say. But I remember that I said "I can't do it any longer" just before I crashed. The last three or four hours were kinda awful.

I'm getting into a new state where being awake for 24 hours is just me "newly awakened"...

So this is my way of escaping it all. By counting hours, I escape my fear of sleep. It makes it easier to be awake, and it's easier to deal with when I can't keep awake any longer. Cause then, falling asleep is just "a minor setback" rather than feeling like the monster I've been running from just devoured me. It's easier to make being awake into an achievement of sleep deprivation, than to face my fear of sleep. So maybe I do want to break the world record as I know it, 11 days. Just slowly increasing the number of hours each time. Next goal? 100 hours. That means that I'll have to stay awake until 15:00 on Friday.

Gonna see my shrink that day. She's gonna hate me... whatever I tell her, it's hard to hide the fact that you've been awake for half a week. Make up, yeah... how about a face lift!

Need to go shopping today. Running out of food and cigarettes. That's really everything I spend money on these days.

I've forgotten how nice it felt: hate. No, it's probably not gone that far, or how to say it. But wanting to curse someone is a step on that way, eh?

There's something weird about a particular sweater of mine. It seems to keep me much warmer than it should be able to. It's just a knitted shirt, nothing special about it really. But in whatever temperature I happen to be, it keeps me just warm enough. Stupid of me to be scared of a fucking shirt... yet, this has to be due to something weird in my mind. I react differently on temperatures than normally.

It's like back in mid summer, when I could wear the exact same outfit for a week without being cold or too warm in everything from 10 to 30 degrees. I think I'm back there, in that state. I haven't figured out exactly what it is, but my mind is probably behind it. Not the clothes, not the thermometer. Though my instincts turn to those.