i like to document when i'm having a manic period, and since the laptop was here and open to my blog, here we go world. this is me.
i want to document how i feel. what i'm doing.
i feel angry. i just keep seeing her face, i just keep feeling like that could have been me. i could have just said fuck it too. given up. why did she give up. why didn't she get help. i just want it to go back to three days ago so i could take her with me to florida (somehow).
i'm angry. the music is angry. the music is loud. i'm sweaty.
my leg won't stop bouncing. i can't stop shaking.
i've reorganized our storage unit. the strength in my arms is apparently still good. moved all the christmas stuff in finally. it wasn't getting done. picked up a tv. moved it in there. still going. still going. still going.
sweaty. pain screaming.
picking up wood. this fucking wood. i've been asking for him to get rid of it for months. throwing it out the door. as hard as i can. each one is a tiny pill i am throwing away. pieces hit the back fence. my arms are sore. i step on a die that is on the floor. fuck it. keep moving.
pacing back and forth. chewing on my nails. i know what i want to do. but i don't have my bearings. of course they are on the fucking wheels that i loaned to someone.
sweep. move a dresser. move a mattress. move a tv. move move move. got to keep moving.
oh how you can transform an entire floor of your house when you are going insane.
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