I am growing increasingly confused with every waking minute that slips by. I don’t understand anything, I don’t know how I feel about anything or anyone. I don’t know if I’m just desperately sad and on the verge of a breakdown, or if I’m going to say FUCK THIS FOR A GAME OF SOLDIERS and morph into Manic Pixie Dream Girl and continue on my merry self-destructive way. I am so confused. I couldn’t understand what I was doing when I found myself standing in the middle of my mother’s kitchen, holding the kettle. I don’t know how long I stood there for, trying to work out where I was, who I was, what on earth the thing I’m holding in my hand is. And then once I remembered I am on earth I just cried and cried, and I have cried a lot this week, I didn’t cry for a long time but this week I started and now I can’t seem to stop. I have no idea what is happening. I don’t know what’s happening and I’m scared and I can’t eat or sleep or speak or do anything I just don’t care for it. My heart is racing a million miles an hour even though I’ve taken a shit-tonne of propranolol to calm down and my shakes are so bad I can’t hold anything, what the fuck is this? Lithium toxicity? Lithium too low? Serotonin syndrome? Neuroleptic malignant syndrome? Fuck I really cannot be bothered to go to hospital tonight I can’t I won’t I will stay alive and stay out trouble until I am scheduled to go into the psych unit on Friday morning. If only they’d give me some fucking diazepam, no, not even a box, not even a strip, just one 10mg fucking tab then this would all go away and I can be left alone to read and write and think and sleep. I need to calm down. I don’t like this at all. Take me somewhere nice.