Dazed and Confused?
May 11, 2009
I think. A lot. It’s apparent, I think, with the posts sometimes that I post and the ideas that I spout, but I think. A lot.
I don’t like my mind really. I don’t. Simply because I don’t feel normal. That’s right. I don’t feel normal and I don’t like that feeling. I don’t feel normal because I don’t think about normal stuff…I think.
I think about death, I think about old people, and I think about spiritual warfare, but very little about everything else. Sure bills and work, but apart from that, my mind is cluttered.
I talk to God still. Not as often as before. Not as often as I’d like. I sometimes think this is my punishment: to be trapped by my thoughts.
I don’t want to die. But I’m so young. Why even think like that? I’m scared of being old and feeble. But I’m so young. Why even think like that?
I hate when I walk past an elderly woman and my heart bleeds for her. I hate that I want to know that she has someone taking care of her and bringing her joy. I hate that I want to know that she doesn’t have to work as old as she is. I hate that I care so damn much about people I do not even know.
I hate it because I don’t take care of myself. Not to say I’m dirty and malnourished or anything, but I’m not happy. Not truly happy. I know what I want to be happy even, but I don’t feel like I can have it. I also can’t reach it just yet while I’m taking care of everyone else’s bills. Just means I have to focus my time on other things without doing things I want to do. But I could do. I could. I could have what I want and do what I want and be where I want [almost 100%] if I did not care about people. If I could be greedy and only take care of myself, I’d be sitting pretty.
I hate being in a cloud of confusion all the time. I think I have ADHD [I've been told I do, but I never really accepted that fact] because I get so lost in my thoughts that hours pass and I don’t know where they went. I just can’t focus. I hate that. I want my focus back. Ever since my mother hit me over the head with the coffee pot, I have lost it more and more. My counselor in college said it probably was the blow that caused it, but truly I never blamed my mom or got mad because of it. Truly still I am not, but I’m so sad that I can’t regain my focus anymore.
I can’t read books like I used to. I loved to read. That’s what I want to do most times but I can’t seem to find my focus anymore. I need to see a psychiatrist again, but can’t afford to right now. I used to be so adamently against them and their drugs, but now I so want some drugs. I want help.
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