I forgot my meds yesterday morning, should it have made such a difference?  Went out drinking to cure the boredom and restless feeling in my chest. Drown in libations for the Bacchanal of fortuitous noon times.  My tics have been getting worse, more frequent it seems or maybe I’m just more aggravated by them. Every twitch and head snap is a rusty pike in my being thrusted by the hard Kimahri hands, a traitor to myself. Yesterday was the worst of it, bad dog day and night biting its own collar. Everyone saw, again, no control yet I sort of tried. Jerking head, hard blinks, turn turn turn repeat and shake the lily. No screaming this time, doesn’t happen much thankfully,  but the alcohol can make it worse but not having it sucks too. Being empty and coated with emotional bandages that prevent you from feeling and loving is not a life to be cherised, it is not happy joy joy time, it is a rift needing to be walked past and you can’t help but look in. You throw a light in the dark void hoping it will catch but other times you just wanna stumble in the dark and fuck the consequences.  Had enough of those risky business days though, reckless recluse hurting every moment of kindness or open ear. Self-medicating yes, but having none does not yield good times it makes for filthy neutrality and a creeping despondency that threatens to linger till your gray days.

Maybe the atheist agnostic AA group will assist in some detox and restraint but what to fill myself with? What uppers do I have now, I’ve grown past the other stuff and what’s left is mostly books and occasional drawing and that has its strains and anxieties of course. I don’t know how to live without anxiety.  I thought I had done so much questioning and soul searching to come to a point of acceptance and calm but more to learn I guess, more fear to mold into strength, more.

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