Title

Only three hours of sleep tonight... I'm definitely getting sleep deprived, but right now I feel alright. Tired, head and stomach hurts, but my mind is kinda clear and I don't feel so down mood wise.

The internet is so quiet at this early hour, even though it's basically lunch time and people should be chatting, reblogging, uploading, updating and generally annoying. Oh, well.

Yeah, I'm tired and bored. Not tired enough to sleep, not alert enough to be awake. I'm somewhere between being asleep and awake. More or less constantly though. My mind usually so full of thoughts now appears to be empty. Filling it with music and intense levelling in world of warcraft.

Halfway to level 86 now. Is it too big a goal to reach 87 today? Cause in this speed it's absolutely doable, but it gets harder with each quest, each level and each zone. Though the day has just begun, and I'll be at 86 before the sun starts going down, maybe faster.

I slowly drink my breakfast, three hours after I woke up. I still like the taste, haven't gotten bored with them drinks yet. I wanna keep bleaching my hair, but I know that I should let it rest for a while. After at least two washings. Time wise that is somewhere around a week or two.

I'm impatient! I wanna be blonde now! Holding my horses at the best of my ability... Don't wanna ruin my hair too much. Of course it's gonna get even more damaged after each time I bleach it, but I wanna save as much as possible of it.

I cannot cope at night

Is it gonna be like this every night, or what? I get more sensitive with the darkness, and somehow my loneliness becomes more potent. As of now that is a bad thing. I hate that I'm so fucking sensitive. Toughen up, already! Crying like a little girl, I should be ashamed of myself... but this anxiety is eating at my soul, this sadness is tearing me inside out.

I fear that I might start getting afraid of sleep again. Afraid of dreams and nightmares, of waking up in distress several times a night, of not waking up at all. Afraid of losing control I jump out of bed as soon as I'm awakened by the crew in the morning. Won't allow myself to sleep the day away. I fight to stay up as late as possible and I fight to get up as early as possible. It's a viscous circle.

And this fucking lovesickness. Ripping, tearing, aching, hurting, screaming inside me. I'm out out of words for it, cause I've already explained it a thousand times. A thousand tears each for my inability to cope, for the dream that can't come true, for the painful reality that he'sd taken and lives so far away and why would he even glance in my direction the way I want him to?

A thousand words to describe what I cannot put into words. I'm full of paradoxes and ambivalence, but this is so crude, so through and through. Filling up every space in my heart until no one else matters. No one else and nothing else. I neglect my friends, I neglect my family for an impossible dream, for a guy I cannot have.

I so hoped this was all just temporary, I wish that I would have died from it much sooner. Cause then I wouldn't have to suffer. Isn't that what death is, that you no longer have to suffer? Eight months in this mess, it's like a tangled cobweb I can't get out from, I just keep entangling myself deeper and deeper. And nothing makes any sense anymore.

I don't know who I am, I don't know what sort of life this is I'm trying to live. I live in his shadow. Cautiously following him around every corner, trying to hide my true feelings, always afraid of coming off as either too cold or too creepy.

Aching for his presense, his spoken words in my ear, his gentle touch that I can never have. For him to notice and find out that we have more in common than he realised. My endless thoughts are spinning aimlessly, devoured by too strong emotions, too much of everything that I cannot handle.

I just don't know what the fuck to do. I'm so lost and I feel as though I'm just getting more and more lost every day. I just have to get out of here, just have to get out of here...

Just killing time I guess

Only got 5 hours of sleep tonight as well. Now I'm seriously getting sleep deprived... Yeah, depression seems likely. Cause even though my living habits are uhm, a little odd, it's not usually quite this bad. I go to bed 4 or 5 in the morning, and wake up at 9 or 10. Of course it's connected to my lovesickness as well, they are probably even interlocking, showing the same symptoms. Depression and lovesickness, I mean.

It's getting harder to concentrate on anything I try to do. Gaming, drawing, writing this, the music I'm listening to. I end up just staring into the empty space, watching but not actually seeing. That "watch the walls" thing, you know. In times like these I can sometimes sit and do nothing, just literally staring at a wall and think and feel, for hours at an end. Well, at least if I got cigarettes.

I'm thinking maybe I should do another round of bleaching my hair today, but only on the parts that didn't get bleached at all. Like higher up on my head closer to the roots, and a little here and there where it's still black. Leave the rest of the hair be for at least a week. If I have any bleach left, that is. Two packages it took to cover almost all of my hair. I've got a lot of hair now, being almost waist long and all.

This is gonna be expensive... It will probably, most likely, require at least four rounds. And it takes two packages each time, which becomes eight. They cost around 80 kr each. That is 1600 kr altogether, if not more if it requires more than just four rounds. Perhaps I should have gone to a hair dresser instead? Cause that would probably be just as expensive, if not even cheaper.

Finally a change

I haven't even been up for a whole day, yet I feel beyond lethargic and apathetic. I feel broken, hollow, like I'm just a shivering and aching shell. Since I've started sleeping again I've been feeling worse. A lot worse. I can barely focus at all, feel more stupid and thick headed than usually, I can't eat and I'm shifting between being freezing cold and sweaty warm all the time.

Sure these nutrition drinks are a good thing and all, but there's a hole in my stomach that hurts when I'm hungry, eating and full. I'm tired, dizzy, nauseous and I just wanna disappear. But I have no wish to sleep so I don't sleep for as long as I used to. No 30 hours at a time anymore, now it's about 10, which is better I suppose. But I have a feeling it's gonna take time before I get better again.

Sleep deprivation and a messed up circadian rhythm can really fuck you up. Three months and I've reached my breaking point. Luckily, I'm apathetic enough to forget about my hypnophobia somehow. Cause I just do and fuck the rest. Tired and can't stay awake? I just won't then. Scared of sleeping, sure as hell, but I've got bigger monsters to fear.

Make up my mind

This ambivalence drives me crazy. On one hand I really do want to go to sleep, I pine for it, miss it. On the other hand I want to keep staying up, cause what fun is sleeping anyways? I'm equally torn between those two and I can't make a decision. I just can't. I've tried for three hours to make up my damn mind, but it seems impossible.

This 100 hours thing is crazy, and I keep screwing it up all the damn time. Pushing myself to the breaking point and then getting angry with myself for not being able to push it further. Idiotically comparing myself to the last world record breaker who stayed up for 18 days and feeling like a failure for not even being able to go through 4 days. Something is wrong in this picture.

I don't know what to do with myself. It's like when you don't know where to put your hands in certain stressful or nervous situations. You keep trying different positions: across your chest, in your pockets, straight down along your sides, holding something, anything, but nothing feels right. I feel like that now, but with my whole body and mind.

Keep trying

Fuck it, I have to start over again. How damn hard can it be? I don't understand. Over coming tiredness shouldn't be that fucking hard. Sure, caffeine had no effect, and neither did sugar this morning right before I crashed. But I could have taken a walk or something. At that point I had been awake around 70 hours and had started slapping my face to the point of it aching, blushing red. But it only helped for a few seconds each time. My last resort is usually inflicting pain, without creating wounds, cause wounds release endorphins which make me relaxed. I want to achieve the opposite effect, I want adrenaline. It's been tricky trying to find out what works.

I'm obsessed with this shit, and especially now. I have less than a week to get this done. I want my hundred hours before I stop trying to be awake around the clock and start trying to get a rhythm including sleep again. My next meeting with my psychologist is on Friday, and by then I must be able to say that I have tried and practised that as I said I would do last Friday. I can't screw this up again.

This time, I've calculated to which time and date I will be finished. Until 2 o'clock at night between Wednesday and Thursday I will have to keep these tired eyes of mine open. So I will only have one day and one night to practice that circadian rhythm, as long as I don't fail again, and I won't fail this time. It's stupidly little time left before the meeting, and I will probably have to lie if I want my shrink to keep believing that I actually want to get things normalised again. Cause I really do want that, it's just that I think I won't be able to let go and give my best unless I've reached my crazy achievement first. Maybe it wouldn't be so stupid to tell my shrink that though. Maybe it's irrational that I have this belief, but I think that maybe she would understand why I have it.

I know myself too damn well, and that gut feeling is most likely correct. That I would have that gnawing feeling that I won't be able to give my best to get back to normal again if I feel like a failure for not having reached those 100 hours of sleep deprivation. Maybe it's not so stupid after all: that is a high number of hours, and it would be difficult to break such a record in the future, so it's possible I won't try to break it later on. I believe it will help me to put this behind me once and for all.

Hopes and hopelessness

I had a meeting with my psychiatrist today, and she said she'd call the hospital in Huddinge to try and find out what's going on over there. Cause I haven't heard as much as a whisper since I was there in August and I've been climbing on the walls for quite a while now. The worst is not the waiting, it's not knowing how long I should be waiting for. It's not certain she'll reach the right person over the phone, or if they would tell her anything, or if they even have anything to tell her. Worth a try though.

It's like I'm playing "catch me if you can" with sleep itself. Making the frightening chase into a chaotic, potentially dangerous, self destructive game. A competition of hours, another obsession, a fucking achievement.

Though, it lets me think of something else, focus my mind off my main obsession for a little while. My crush. Cause thinking of him is getting more and more painful each passing day. Knowing that he's so far away both literally and figuratively makes it harder and harder to cope, as I'm slowly realising how impossible my dreams are. I knew this would happen sooner or later, I just wished it could have been later.

This sadness is growing bigger inside me. A little more today than it was yesterday, and it was more yesterday than the day before that. It's a heavy, calm sadness like a soft dark veil swept over my face. Not the brutal, numbing sadness that brings endless amounts of tears and low self esteem. Though I do cry quite a lot, but only when provoked and often while watching a movie or reading something sad. Like twenty times a day... I also isolate more, cause I don't want to face the world outside.

I look at the world with more gloomy eyes, a bitter frown at the colours of the nature around the corner. I smile a fake smile when someone points out a cute animal before my eyes, as dark thoughts ravage my head and I couldn't care less about the creature. I have to bite my tongue to not let out all of my negative thoughts and pessimistic views on my so called future.

Cause I need for people to know that I still keep my hopes up, it's just that I can't express them any longer. For what I hope for and what I believe will happen isn't the same thing.

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.

Warm in the cold

I'm trying out a new method for staying awake. Coldness. With windows open for a few hours I've gotten the temperature in my living room down to 14 degrees. Open my robe and take off a sweater. It's quite awful. I think it's working though. The shivering and shaking keeps me from dozing off, or rather being close to. I haven't actually dozed off yet.

I don't shiver, I don't feel cold at all. Just in my hands. I'm sitting in a t-shirt in 14 degrees, the November wind from outside blows in my face, and I don't feel anything, but warm. What's wrong with me? Is this even my body? Something changed, about two hours ago. I almost dozed off and got these weird images and phrases in my head, rapidly moving, as I was still aware of the waken world. I shook out of it, but after that the world felt different, looked different. It still does. Am I asleep? Is this some sort of dissociation? No... I broke my record, I've been up passed 80 hours. For real this time, no miscalculation. Who knows what the hell is going on with my mind, or why I can't feel cold at all when I should be freezing.

I've stopped feeling pain as well. That isn't a good sign either, but it's nice not to hurt any more. If it was winter right now, I bet I could have just walked outside wearing almost nothing and lied down in the snow. I would have, just to see if I could feel it. I don't feel tired either. Too weirded out to even notice such a trivial feeling as "tired" perhaps. I can't understand this, no matter how hard I try. I've pushed myself harder than ever before, and it has led me to a new place. Gotten off a station later with this train. I don't recognise myself, even in the mirror. There's something about my eyes, they look different. I can't really explain what it is I see. Some kind of tense darkness that I can't specify.

Slow started

I'm bored. I tend to get bored after hours and hours just sitting by the computer slowly destroying my apartment's interior and my lungs with cigarette smoke. I really feel like I don't do anything else than smoking and watching movies I haven't seen before. One after another until I can barely tell them apart. The more actors/actresses I recognise in them, the better I expect them to be. That's hardly always the case though.

I have a thing for movies depicting someone or some people with mental disorders or symptoms of such, but I won't watch just any of them cause I am kind of picky. Well, sometimes at least, depending on how bored I am.

One demand that I have is that it's gotta be at least one good actor/actress in a major roll. It isn't so hard to find such movies though. Other demands that I have is that it can't be a slow movie, contain too much action, too much sex or too much food and eating. Well, that's about it.

My mind seems empty, but when I start writing it seems the words just flow out of me. I can't understand where they come from. And how come my grammar suddenly improved and I type faster after I've been awake for nearly 50 hours? Am I really that slow started nowadays? That makes no sense what so ever to me.

Maybe I should take this moment of a sudden spur of writing energy, or whatever it is, and do something productive about it instead? It is worth a try, I mean. Maybe watching a movie about writers sparked something in me; it is known to happen. I get inspired, which might not be so strange considering.

But I don't know what to write about, in any of my started novels. I certainly don't want to pick up another new project that won't get finished either, so I have to work with what I have. I'm really going all out language wise in "Grimston Estate" and it can be frustrating sometimes when I can't seem to get the sentences structured properly. In "Lost in paradise" I go for a lighter tone altogether, but it stings in my heart thinking about Dala so I don't think I could muster going into that project just now. So the choice is actually kind of simple, I suppose.

Yes, I should just open the document and let the words flow. Just like that. No need to think of a certain scene to write, just type and see what happens. I can always erase it if it becomes crappy. I think I'll do that. Wow. Not one spelling mistake and I didn't even look up at the screen.

Down there again

Why do I feel that way, why do I feel the need to be broken? I'm tearing myself apart. The will to die, will it always linger in me? Constantly tempting me with freedom and rest, being pain free, at peace, become one with or leave Anna, coming home. Will I be suicidal for life? Intentionally or subconsciously constantly shortening my own life with bad habits, just in case I won't die within those three or four years, or just because of that.

Am I always suicidal, just more or less? Don't I wish for that next cigarette to give me lung cancer, for that next dose of pills to kill my liver, for that next breath to be be my last? That maybe if I starve myself long enough I'd eventually die from malnutrition, or that at some point if I manage to stay awake long enough my body will give out completely. Without taking more pills than I should, or slitting my arms too deep, or anything directly deadly, don't I still have that vague hint of a feeling that I just wish this could be my last day in this hell? Yes...

A memory from when I was in a psych ward in Uppsala two years ago that will never leave my mind. A guy there, he was funny, a truck driver in his late 30's. I can't remember his name, or even what he looked like except from blue jeans and shaved head. He said something, can't remember the exact words, or the word, but I can't forget it. Something about us smokers committing suicide methodically or contemplated. I had never until then thought about it that way, but he was so right.

It's amazing what truly amazing people you meet within those walls. When we are the most vulnerable, broken or uncontrollable. Sharing cigarettes and slipping pills when the staff isn't looking. It's a world of its own.

I'm falling again. Thought I was in bad shape yesterday? Well today it's even worse. I've stopped eating and started popping caffeine pills again. I won't take my sleeping pills or sedatives or do anything that will calm me down too much. I'm feeding my anxiety and sadness instead of trying to ease it. Why? I don't know, but I seem to purposely make myself feel worse.

Maybe it's like when you get angry and accidentally break something that you like, so you get even more angry, but instead of trying to fix the thing you broke, you break it even more.

But I won't kill myself. Not more than I already do at least. I'm satisfied by these means of self harm that will probably harm me in the now as well as in the long run. That was all I was writing about, so don't get any ideas.

Choices and voices

Vargyl: Stop talking about yourself as if you were someone else. I know what you're thinking, that I'm just a hallucination and you should discard me as such, but I know that you don't really think that. You're analysing too much. I'm not just a voice in your head and you know it.

Yeah, still torn between accepting reality and just wallowing in my fantasy world. Though he does intimidate me, so I don't know so much about the wallowing part. I know so little about him, yet I have so much to write about him. He seems cold. Like right through cold, emotionless, frigid, and I suppose that's what intimidates me about him. He says that he loves me, but his words are empty, shallow in a way. Still I believe him. I hate it when he pops out of nowhere, says something and it makes me jump out of my chair. Could ask for a little warning before, perhaps?

Yeah I am a bit afraid of my own mind. And all these people that seem to populate it all of a sudden. I'm never alone, I'm not even alone in my own skin. Though, it's not always bad. It can be quite nice to have some company sometimes. But it's irritating when they disturb my WoW playing so that I almost end up getting killed in the middle of a raid or something. The whole group wiped in a dungeon but I can't know for sure if I have Vargyl to blame for that, though he was distracting me.

I know that this gets worse when I'm awake for too long. After 24 hours I'm having a nervous conversation with Vargyl. After 30 hours Anna is starting to lose it and I'm starting to hallucinate visually, seeing stuff. After 40 to 50 hours I need to hold on to my desk because the floor is wobbling and constantly look over my shoulder cause I think someone is watching me. After 60 to 70 hours I'm tackling three conversations with Anna, Vargyl and Satan but gotten used to the other stuff. Passed that I've never gotten. Thankfully.

But is it a choice that I make to stay up way after bedtime, or is it rather involuntary? I sure as hell wouldn't choose hallucinations and delusions going haywire and creeping the fuck out of me, but I don't choose to sleep either. Perhaps I try to not choose either of them, cause I really hate making a decision. What I would do to not have to choose at all. Anything. Just leave all the options constantly available for when the right time comes. Why does everything have to be so black and white? They say there are grey zones, but when it comes to sleep/being awake there really isn't any greys in between.

Spiralling out of time

Not so strange perhaps, but I really don't feel like myself these days. I'm a shadow. Can't focus on anything, everything is a blur. Like looking out the window of a moving train. Some things you see, others just pass by and you hardly even notice them. You don't notice what you missed until someone points it out to you. And we're not even on the same train.

Nights and days blend together in a flickering light play. I'm lost in numbers but I can't tell the time any more. I don't even know what date it is. Without time everything is disconnected, scattered. I take my meds when they tell me to, but then I can't remember if I took them, even though their bitter taste is still clinging to my throat. That taste that releases when you don't manage to swallow them correctly and they start dissolving in your mouth. And you can't wash it down, cause it's stuck there, for hours or just seconds until you forget about it. Sleep deprivation changes who I am.

I can't feel time, at all. To me, two seconds feels just as long as two hours, two days, or even two years. I'm trying to connect with time by counting, but my numbers are just as useless as a broken watch. I don't fully understand how I perceive time, but it seems to move in circles. Sometimes going backwards, biting its own tail, sometimes moving away some place new before spiralling back again. So maybe it's more like a very uneven spiral. Cause I'm going backwards at the same time as I'm going forward. And people expect me to eat consistently and have circadian rhythm.

How does time feel? Can you feel if you need something depending on how long ago you had it last? Can you tell if it's been a long or a short time, to or from something? Is it different related to the past or the future? I wouldn't know. It doesn't exist. In my world all there is, is astrology and watches, and nothing more. I can't feel it.

I can't feel much at all lately, but something's scratching inside me. Like some wild animal fighting desperately to get free. I put the self destruction on hold, but not for too long, cause if I push it too hard it's gonna end in a disaster. As I said to my shrink today when we talked about my irrational fear of sleep, but this applies in every occasion related to fear: "anxiety isn't dangerous, it can't harm me, I know that - it's what the anxiety can cause me to do that is dangerous".

Just another addiction

Had a little nap. Just fell asleep on the sofa at eight on Wednesday evening and woke up just now, four o'clock in this early Friday morning. A 32 hours nap, breaking my previous record of the longest time I've been asleep for. Of course I woke up a few times during my visit to dream-/nightmareland, but I didn't want to get up. So I just stayed there. I chose to get up at this early hour because I'm going to see my shrink at 11:00 and I want to have some time just doing nothing before getting ready for that. It's not like I need to sleep more.

So this is it then? My sleep habit summed up in a month or two: awake for 30 to 80 hours, sleep for 20 to 30 hours. Afraid of sleeping and addicted to sleep deprivation for as long as my body and mind can take it. Cause yeah, that's what happened this time. I realised that I'm not just hypnophobic, but also addicted to causing myself sleep deprivation. How I figured that one out? I had miscalculated the hours of awaken time, from what I believed was 4 days, was actually only 3 days. I was upset that I had not at all reached something close to 100 hours, but "just" around 75 hours, barely breaking my old record.

"Was I proud over my imaginary extra 24 hors making me believe I'm close to a 100 hours of sleep deprivation? Was I fucking proud?!" I wrote in my paper diary. The anxiety that realisation gave me was a bit more than I could take. So I took 2 Zyprexa, 2 caff. pills and downed them with a solution of 2 Bamyl Koffein. Hoping that all the caffeine would keep me awake while the Zyprexa usually makes me tired. Failed. So I can't even take Zyprexa for my anxiety anymore? Well that's just great.

I gave up and stopped fighting. I felt like shit after what felt like 95 hours but was only 75. I couldn't do it, keep on fighting with all those feelings of being a fucking failure. Something I shouldn't feel like a failure over. So I took my horrible feelings and lied down on the sofa. When misery wins over misery.

Haunted by my own ghosts

I notice that I eat more now, since I'm awake around the clock. Usually I ate brunch and dinner. Now I get two brunches and two dinners. Keeps me going, and probably part of the reason why I'm still able to keep awake for so long. I take less caffeine and eat food, use chewing gum and sing along to the music to keep myself awake instead.

Got the tip about chewing gums from the film "Insomnia" and it's actually working! Wonder what the director and film crew would think if they would find out they just handed out a trick to help a hypnophobiac to stay awake.

Still trying to figure out what to say to my shrink on Friday, during our next meeting. I don't know if I will have slept anything until then. I think I have, to some degree let go, and now just go with the flow. Cause I have less anxiety about sleeping because I tell myself fuck that shit, fuck it if I sleep or not! And I think the anxiety itself made it harder to stay awake, so I tried even harder with more caffeine and grasping at any straws I could find.

Now I sit here in my fourth night slowly sipping an energy drink and trying to figure out which film to watch next. I'm not so worked up about my sleep issues because I choose to simply ignore them. Instead of trying to keep the car on the road I just let go off the steering wheel and sit back and enjoy the show. I won't die from sleep deprivation, though there hasn't been much research in that area. Some say "of course it's bad for you, cause you feel like road kill if you don't get enough sleep". Others say that "the worst that can happen is that you get a little slow and lethargic but that's about it, the body will regain it's need for sleep sooner or later, so no need to worry".

I miss him. I miss him so much these days, and keep playing up and replaying scenarios about a perfect future together with him. They're fairly realistic, though it's hard to think of realistic conversations when I don't know him so well. I feel so terribly lonely when I think about how much I miss him though. Just wanna go back to the main country ASAP, but I'm broke and can't even afford my own food and cigarettes. He's all I can think about. Or, he's the only positive thing I can think about in excess of my mental problems. It's quite a contrast, though even in that department we have a little in common.

Did I just fall asleep for a few seconds? Is that even possible? Just like that I am a female blood elf in WoW about to talk to some NPC's in something that could have been a dream, right after I had closed my eyes and then instantly snapped back to reality, eyes wide open. It didn't even take a minute.

I can't fucking believe it, I'm actually hallucinating a song that is stuck on my mind. I heard it first in the kitchen, but the buzzing from the microwave suffocated the music, I couldn't even figure out that it was music. So I kept walking around in my apartment, listening intensively, trying to figure out where it came from. Until I got into my bedroom.

The bedside lamp was still on, so I turned it off and leaned towards the wall furthest from the kitchen. I pretended that I lied on the floor, with my arms curled under my chin. The bedroom, that gives me so much anxiety, seemed to let off heavy energy of wasted sleep and unfulfilled dreams as I stood there. To actually be in there, not just go in for picking up something in the wardrobe or fixing with something, but to just be there. So much negative energy. For all those nights I achingly fell onto the mattress, wrapping my entire body tightly in the duvet, collecting my arms and legs as close to my torso as possible, just waiting for the long lost, hated sleep to devour me. And all those nights of terrifying dreams, waking up screaming, or waking up scared and not knowing where the fuck I am. Afternoons and evenings when I finally got enough willpower to drag myself up from there, put on clothes and leave the bedroom behind me again. It's haunted now, and the ghosts won't leave me be.

I had my ear against the bedroom wall and from it I could hear "Thanatophobia" by Funker Vogt. I can really hear it, like it's coming from somewhere in reality! I can't get it into my head that the sound I hear is coming from inside it. Reality is slowly turning up side down, as I count the hours to 92.

A glimpse into my altered world

16:12
This is the longest I've ever been awake for without any sleep or power napping or the like. 73 hours, or 3 days and 3 nights just passed in this, rather undead like state of being. I feel like a zombie, tired but not sleepy. Trying to occupy myself with films, embroidery, music, writing and knitting in varying order and combinations.

It's really starting to take its toll now, feels like my brain is turning into mush or something. Right now about half the world around me isn't real, I presume, cause with some things it's hard to tell. I'm having tactile, visual and auditory hallucinations almost constantly by now. They are weird, but not frightening. Every picture looks to be slowly moving, like an image cut in gif in slow motion. I'm looking at a picture of a woman with one hand on her chest and though it is a still photo, I can see her her hand softly stroking across her collar bone. Like if she touched herself or floated in water. Very graceful indeed.

23:53
It feels like I'm under water, on a sinking ship. The way my floor is unstable, and seems to rock under my feet, the way my vision is blurred and everything is having a slow dance as if I see the world through water. Distorted sounds with weird, misplaced thumping and clonking here and there. Yes, it actually feels a lot like I'm on a sinking ship. Yet I calmly sit here, not the least worried or scared. It's just strange, but still it isn't. It's just a feeling, a likeness, and I don't really believe that I'm literally drowning. It doesn't feel like drowning at all actually, it's soothing somehow.

I have gotten used to my supposedly different, or altered, world view cause I know of nothing else. Had I become psychotic over night from living a seemingly normal life until that moment I'd probably be very frightened. I don't even know if my world actually is psychotic, but I doubt that it is normal. Somewhere in between most days, and some days with a little extra spice; and others, very few days thankfully, are nightmarish.

So just how is my world view not "normal"? Because everything, people, events, things, conversations can or may not be real. Some times they are, other times they aren't. I interpret things differently. Read private messages sent specifically to me, masked to be hidden to others, in the strangest places and ways. I can hear the trees cry, the clouds are deciding my mood, water is whispering to me and I know when a certain piece of furniture has something personally against me - to mention a few things. This isn't figuratively speaking, in my world that is real and literally.

01:12
So strange... I don't feel tired or sleepy or drowsy at all. Yet I haven't had a single mg of caffeine in over three hours. It wears off fast for me. Kicks in with full power immediately and then wears off about half an hour to an hour later. I don't know if it's fun or just saddening to count the hours of being awake at this point, but I'm up at 83 hours now. I wonder if I'll reach 100, which is slightly over 4 days. A week is 168 hours. Good to know, and hope I won't go that far... would feel kind of devastated if I go to my psychologist appointment on Friday and tell her I've been awake since two o'clock in the afternoon on Sunday...

Still awake, but feeling better

The only comfort I want and feel the need for right now is a picture on my cell phone screen. I guess I don't even have to say whose by now.
Finally trying to get something edible inside me now, as Ica had finally opened so I could go buy a diet shake. It's better than nothing at least.

I noticed that I had worked out a little yesterday, my thighs and upper arms are a bit sore. Feels good in a way. But then the rest of me hurts like hell as well, but for various reasons such as sitting idle on a chair for nearly 66 hours straight, except for 3 walks and that little work out. Then there's the headache, being hungry for several hours, tensed here and there, my feet cold to the point of hurting and my hands hurt from all the typing. So yeah, every little inch of me is covered in pain. Even my ears from wearing head phones all the time...

Aside from that, I think I'm feeling a little better now. Taking my mind off all this distress with meaningless lists to fill in, a movie and an episode of "Angel" did the trick. And daylight. A fresh start, the time of the day when I don't have to feel like shit cause I can't sleep. I take one night at a time, and let go during the day.

This is so absurd! I can't believe that nights equal anxiety and days equal relief. In my world I'm so used to it being the other way around; with peaceful, enchanting, beautiful nights and stressful, awfully bright, annoying days. That although I know myself so well, I'm still able to surprise myself. But it's good that at least some part of the day makes me feel a little lighter at heart.

The crew just called for my morning meds and I told them I was still awake. Doubt they knew I meant since 3 days ago...

Keep me awake

I'm falling apart. How the hell is this day gonna be? I'm supposed to wash my laundry in the afternoon and I already feel like a wreck drenched twice. I'm so damn cold, and just waiting for the temperature to rise is obviously not gonna give any result, it won't exceed 20 degrees just by itself. But at the same times I'm too warm, like feverish almost. Too damn much caffeine, I've exceeded the max limit dosage for 24 hours in 3 hours and more so. Almost twice that even. Aw, fuck my life...

Can I even call "this" a life? Feels like I'm on the railway station between reality and insanity, waiting to aboard one or the other train. For me it's not a thin line between those two polar extremes, it's a whole fucking world and I'm stuck in it. Though sometimes I step over completely into insanity, but I don't think I've ever completely been in reality.

Fuck, this shit is wearing me out, I don't wanna do this any more. I just wanna stop being scared of sleeping and being able to keep a circadian rhythm for once again in my life. This is ruining so much and I feel like shit for every hour that passes in this agony, for every night and counting that I've been awake for, until I completely lose conception of time (I had to count how many nights I've been up) and my body aches so much I can't even sit up straight. And I can't even tell if I need to eat cause I can't for the world remember when was the last time I ate or even if it's hunger that I feel somewhere in all this pain.

Still so many hours left... I can't eat. I haven't eaten in the gods know how many hours and I can't even get down a lousy pancake. Need to buy some nutrition shakes or anything. This is too much. I've cut down on the caffeine, don't need it any more, hunger and pain keeps me awake. Nervous breakdown bound to happen any day now... fuck everything damn it.

Labyrinth of thoughts

Inside me a whole drug store, and do I feel satisfied? No. Apparently I've made a playlist on Spotify 4 days ago, but I have no idea what band that is, or why I all of a sudden have playlist filled with their songs. Probably found them on tumblr, I'm finding all sorts of music there, what people upload and end up in my news feed. They're really good though!

My brain is doing funky things with me again. And the headless horseman in WoW is annoying the fuck out of me, running and screaming allover Dun Morogh where I try to level a gnome. I don't particularly like that race, but I just gotta have a mechanical chicken mount so. Scattered thoughts again, I take it. Where was I? I'm losing my train of thought before I get it, and it's very annoying, that too. Caffeine, sleep deprivation/hypersomnia or Schizophrenia? Cause maybe all four of them.

I once said that I sort of have both insomnia and hypersomnia: cause I can't fall asleep, but when I eventually do I'm sleeping way too much. Awake for 48 hours - asleep for 20 hours. It's insane, I'm insane. And it's not so weird I'm freaking out, but I'm not. I'm just... complaining. But do I even have the authority to complain? Because for some reason I think this is all my own damn fault.

I know, I know, mental illness is never anybody's fault, especially not the one who has it. But you know that saying "one thing led to another"? This summer... didn't I just mess things up on my own free will? Hmm, this song is good!* What I mean is that I literally allowed myself to fall in love again, I even said it out loud. Then when I wanted to stop cutting I started to self harm in other ways, like sleep deprivation.

All the built up anxiety from tackling too much at once led me to have worse nightmares than ever before and so I kept causing myself sleep deprivation deliberately. That was supposedly "fixed" during my stay at the psych-ward, but then I fell much harder for my crush, to whom I now refer to as my love, because "crush" is just by far not strong enough a word for what I feel for him, and have for the last 2 or 3 months now. Anyways, the lovesickness caused complete loss of appetite (it was so bad I felt disgusted by the smell of chocolate... or well, I still do) and insomnia. The insomnia led me back to my fear of dreaming at night and turned into a bad case of hypnophobia. And here we are now.

So, amidst the chaos I do see a red line here. I caused this! Talking about being a fuck up! What is it, was I bored to tears or what?! I know I shouldn't blame myself, and that I took the "choice" of falling for him just split seconds after I realised my heart alone had already made its own choice. My attempts to not fall for him were futile, and I might not be a seer, but I knew. I knew this was gonna get just as bad as it was back 2010/2011. At the exact same time of the year too, well not exact, one month shifted. But in November 2010 I was where I am now, emotionally. Different person, different kinds of feelings, but the same fucking scenario.

So what I'm trying to say is, maybe it was just a way of accepting the reality, when I bowed to myself and sincerely declared that I allow myself to fall for him. Oh, god... I can't believe I just sifted through all of everything I liked on tumblr just to see if I could find that band on my playlist. Where is my mind, really? I lost it so many years ago I don't even know where to look... somewhere in a since long demolished playground in Alunda? There's my first bet.



*The song I'm referring to:  "Big bad wolf" by Aesthetic Perfection.

One hell of a defence mechanism

I feel empty. Can't focus on anything besides this damn hypnophobia and all the anxiety it brings me. Brings me down. Nothing seems to ease it. I'm tired and jaded at the same time. Why does the night always bring out the worst in me? Probably cause I feel locked up in this apartment. Everything is closed and I'm counting down the few caff pills I have left, fantasising about energy drinks and not having to drink coffee all the time. A caffeine addict tired of coffee? Well, it doesn't quite surprise me to be honest. Cause when I think about it, it's pretty damn disgusting in large quantities.

This emptiness seems to wanna stay. I don't like it that way, I hate it when I can't feel anything. I feel lonely inside myself, and that's saying a lot from someone who hears voices 24/7. I'm not supposed to feel alone, I shouldn't technically be able to feel that way. And I mean alone, not lonely. Cause I don't really want company, I just feel like I have this huge dug out hole inside me and I can't even remember what filled it out to begin with.

All these pills, sewing threads, pens, cigarette packs, bloody paper tissues and random junk I keep collecting on my desk. Really should clean up that mess. Any day now...

I can do this without so much caffeine, it's going fine so far and I'm below 1.000 mg in over 30 hours. As soon as the sun goes up it will get easier to stay awake. Don't think I'm doing this for fun or as some sort of self harm or amusement, this is just survival. Apparently, according to my psychologist that's exactly what this is. My body is in a constant self defence mode, keeping me awake to be alert for danger. I don't remember exactly what she said but she talked about lions in the savannah back when humans were sort of a new kind of breed. She made a really compelling argument, it's just that I've forgotten most of it.

I seem to surprise her a lot with my knowledge on psychology and we can have kind of deep conversations about certain issues. It's freeing in a way, cause I don't have to feel like I'm just babbling on and hardly know what the beginning or the end of myself or the conversation is, as it has been at most of my meetings with various care takers in the psychiatry. It would be too big a word say we are more equals, but I don't feel either smarter or dumber in our sessions. More balanced, could be a good way to say it. I like her, and hope I won't have to change to a different psychologist again any time soon, or like, ever.