what’s wrong with me?

I ask myself that question as I watch “Six Feet Under.”

Sleep, or a steady sleep schedule, is very important in maintaining good mental health, and somehow I lost my sense of that last night. As hours passed, I kept popping half-tablets of Ambien in my mouth, to no avail. I guess I finally fell asleep at some point.  It was past 9am when my cat kept meowing at me, asking me to wake up.  I can barely remember what I spent those sleepless hours doing, except that when I woke up, I noticed that I had attempted to play the piano and chewed away all my nails.

Lack of sleep makes me start thinking about things that’s not necessarily pleasant to think about. During the night, I also watched again most of the documentary “Boy Interrupted.” In the documentary, two filmmaker parents chronicle the life of their son, Evan Perry, who, at age 15, kills himself. They address Evan’s mental illness (bipolar disorder) and the efforts by his family to help him. Throughout his life, Evan could not stop thinking about death. In fact, it seemed so matter-of-fact. The scary thing is, I identified with Evan. It was as if someone else knew how that felt, for those thoughts to exist like it’s a natural part of you. What I do know now is that this isn’t normal. So, I ask myself, What’s wrong with me? I know I have bipolar disorder. But why can’t these thoughts just dissipate to nothing? I’m scared that I won’t always remember that these conversations in my head are unnatural.

It’s now the afternoon, and though I’m awake, I haven’t even really started my day (I haven’t even put on make-up, and I even wear make-up for the ECTs). There’s just a lot to discuss when I start thinking about August, which I’m sure I’ll record in this journal when time is appropriate.

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