I drank myself to sleep...yesterday seems to be so far away that I can't correctly remember all the details. I have no power to get up from my bed. My back, arms, throat, head ache in agony. I would open my eyes if there was any energy to do that, but there's none. Thankfully, because I find the light painful right now.
I am sick again. In the middle of a perfect summer. Three types of medicine, two antibiotics, some pills for the headache. No appetite. No will to get up. I really hate my sour throat. No ice-cream, noting fizzy, no cold dishes. For three long weeks. I call this no living.
So I lay in my bed with my laptop on my knees and rethink some passed things as always. I tend to think too much. It is part of my ever wondering nature... the "what if's" are killing me sometimes. As I lay I recall some of my inner thoughts and try to moderate them, to give them well-defined form, to strip them from my emotion. What if the rest of the world knows all my weaknesses? What if I show too much affection? What if my personality gets bored too fast? What if they get bored too fast of me? What if there is no one to call in the middle of a bad dream? What if I can't sleep and lay awake too many nights?
My exhibitionism is a raging storm right now. I hate confined spaces. I hate to be ill and not strong enough. I hate to be alone with my desires when I do not want to face them again.