The past 3 days have been filled with them. Times I wish I could wake up from whatever sick dream my mind has placed me in. Times I know I'm awake, but wish I wasn't. Times I think I'm dead tired, but then when I try to lie down, I find myself unable to sleep.

Then there are the times I just wish I could sleep, if only to allow myself to a temporary escape from the nightmare of being awake. Even during times when the pillow successfully coaxed my physical brain into unconsciousness, it inevitably ends too soon.

I took yesterday and today off work. I've had the PTO hours accumulating for a while. Not exactly what I would consider an optimum use for them, but...

I went to Target yesterday and bought myself some new clothes. Wandering aimlessly around the ailses about a zillion dozen times, I felt like I might physically lose it, crumple into a ball on the floor of the store, and start stuffing random objects into my mouth, like an infant. (Waking nightmares)

I leaned on the cart, held it together by a string, kept walking until I had all the needed items, and proceeded to the checkout. Happy bank account depletion card (something has to be "happy", right?) did its job.

Then I proceeded to my real destination (remember, we're still on yesterday, prior to any of the ramblings last night which were most random). I went to the rec center, paid the fee, and surveyed the premises. First destination: swimming pool.

As I undressed, vague, dreamish memories of riding Tobias around the South Denver area a few hours earlier were recalled. They were real.

As I unpacked my towel and other oddities (all freshly purchased) in the locker room, I made the unfortunate discovery that I had left the bathing suit in the car. Duhh.. I was already naked (not petrified, despite the rambling last night), so I just decided to don a pair of shorts. I wore them into the pool, and they functioned quite adequately.

When I exited the locker room, the pool area was COMPLETELY vacant, save one lifeguard. Wow. Whole thing to myself.

I dipped a foot in the water. Not cold. Not hot. Perfect.

(It had been a LONG time since the last time I swam. We're talking on the order of years here.)

I decided upon my entry strategy. Climbed up to the diving board, put hands together above my head, and... splash!

The shorts almost slipped off in the water. I managed to keep them on.

Ducked under the rope, and swam a few laps. I was quite happy with myself, given the total lack of practice I've had since ages ago. (From an outsider's perspective, I probably looked like an idiot, but that's okay.)

Then I went to the general non-lap swimming area, and wandered around playing in the water a bit.

That was one good dream.

After the pool, I went into the sauna for a bit, then got dressed, tried out some of the weights, walked a few laps, etc. Then I decided I was done, and went home for the evening.

My internal negativity took a downward spiral.

Happily, I did get to spend some time talking with Jaeger, and then joined various other people in irc.

A break in the storm.

When I decided I was too sleepy to pay attention anymore, I parted company with them. Destination: Bed.

That journey did not turn out so well.

The patterns of self-abuse experienced a couple weekends ago returned last night and this morning with an awful vengeance. No suicidal stuff, but damn, that wall can leave a nice bump on the head when you hit it with full thrust. I hit my head against the wall again.

It has to stop.

Fortunately, my appointment to see the doctor was scheduled for this morning. And damn, was I ready for it!

I hadn't planned to until do so this morning, but after an exceedingly early alarm-less wakeup, many moments of contemplation, and a long shower, a few more slaps to my own face, and... ugggggh. I decided it would be better to take just one more day off work. But come hell, high water, or demons in my face, I will go back tomorrow. I will.

I attempted to go back to sleep until it was time to leave for my appointment. I had moderate success.

Went outside to find a whole ton of snow on the ground. Brushed off Tobias, and got my ass to the mental health center.

Filled out paperwork, and got my visit with a therapist. (Their system has all new patients see a therapist first, and if it turns you need prescription help, then they hook you up with a psychiatrist.)

Had a nice long -- sometimes disturbing, sometimes lighthearted -- chat with the nice man. Told him about.... everything, pretty much. Well, not everything, but the basics. A full session, which I think must have lasted almost 2 hours according to the clock, not counting paperwork time, although it didn't seem nearly that long.

I felt better after that. He arranged me an appointment with a psychiatrist to start getting my prescription shit straightened out. There's no normal appointment slots available until another week from Monday, but he told me that, given my circumstances, he would try to arrange something sooner with the emergency doc. I'm expecting a call back today or tomorrow.

I went home, spent a good deal of the afternoon in bed. I considered making an impromptu appearance at work in the afternoon. And quickly dismissed that idea. I'm not that much of a masochist. There will be plenty of opportunity for that tomorrow.

Partly because of my therapist's recommnedation, and partly because it just seemed like a generally good idea, I took a brief jog around the neighborhood a few minutes ago. Wore shorts and a sweatshirt. The temperature was a bit chilly, but I remembered the technique I had learned years ago (and somehow forgotten) which was also described in my Buddha book to become one with the cold. Don't shiver. Don't fight it with your body. Absorb it. Allow it to flow into and through you. Accept it.

Little tangent: The reason my therapist suggested exercise (specifically jogging or biking) is because of what I had told him when I described my self-inflicted abuse. He asked why I hurt myself. I was able to think of two reasons.

(1) self punishment due to internal feelings of extreme guilt and wrongdoing.

(2) An attempt to drown out emotional distress. During times of extreme mental agony, it actually feels better to be physically hurting. The physical pain overrides the mental pain. The worse it hurts, the more effective it is. In a way, it could be considered a relief.

For the second item, my therapist suggested that exercise might help, because for some people who have experienced similar things, it helps "get you back in your body", especially if it's something where you can feel the muscles and bones crunching in a healthy way.

So... for me, more exercise. I want it to work.

So anyway, right now, I'm feeling moderately well. I can only hope that things don't deteriorate. I do know more nightmares may lie ahead before things get better. All I can do is endeavor to deal with and live through them as best I can.