It's Tuesday evening. I should be cleaning up my house and doing laundry, but I have been lost in a book all day neglecting such mundane things. I find myself reading with an author's eye -- being very critical of everything I take in. It is fascinating that writers can dream up such grand worlds with rich characters that seem to jump off the pages. I also feel kind of hungover from a lack of sleep. I spent another sleepless night pacing the floor and intermittently reading books and smoking cigarettes. Luckily, Rosa is staying home more days than not lately. It was growing tiresome not have some alone time -- time to myself. I have to put on a front of "everything is well" when she is around. I can digress back into my comfortable mental illness and it's harsh embrace when confronted with solitude.
Lunchtime found me walking down to the shopping center. I stopped by the little Korean restaurant and ordered a to-go box of beef and mushrooms. It was delicious and their portions are so huge. I grabbed a bench by the Piggly Wiggly and read for hours while I smoked cigarettes and drank Gatorade. None of the gang was to be seen today. I was hoping to hear from Clara about her new sleeping bag. I have fears that it is too hot this early in the season causing her to sweat which is terrible for a down bag.
Talked to my father today about something Ferret told me yesterday. He said you can get high off of taking six or more Benadryl. "You can," my father said, "but your blood pressure will also shoot sky high. Your friend is playing a dangerous game." According to Ferret, the feeling is akin to taking a handful of Xanax or Valium. The addict in me was tempted to try it just as an experiment until I saw how much a pack of pills costs. There are cheaper addictions if I want to feel out of the ordinary.
I can't express in words of how glad I am to be alone tonight. I can stay up. Walk around in my underwear. Let Maggie bark till midnight. All things I can't do when Rosa stays over. Rosa has been telling me that my sleeping habits or lack thereof are keeping her up at night. She is staying home more often and it takes a lot of pressure off of me. I feel the need to cook for us and to keep a more normal schedule when she stays over. It is going to feel like a teenager at a sleep over tonight.
Feeling really strange lately -- like my medications are amiss. My head feels buzzy and so busy. Thoughts come and go like the wind and it makes it hard to write coherently or concentrate on anything of merit. I have tried to write dozens of times today only to stop mid paragraph and give up. I sometimes would rather deal with the symptoms of my schizophrenia than all the side effects of my medications. Medications for mental illnesses are a definite catch-22.