I had another binge before bed. As in right now. While I type this. Fuck this shit. I feel like a fucking crackhead. Fuck this goddamn shit to hell. Last night I slept for 14 hours. I came home and went straight to bed. Didn’t eat for almost 16 hours. My mother, needless to say, noticed. I feigned “I’m just tired,” but man alive, it was rough. I literally wasted two-thirds of the day. It gnaws at me all day at work. I can function, that’s the scary part. I can go through my required script at work, I can talk to people, I can drive a car quite well. I can interact with people. I’ve tried too. I spend time with my family, I’ve gone to the movies, I go out with friends, I’ve been working my way through some thoroughly enjoyable Sherlock Holmes audiobooks (David Timson is marvelous), and I have to say, for a while, I felt like I’d made some progress. A week or so I finally felt more or less “normal” again. I actually managed to work my way through a movie (Which isn’t much, but given how this took away my ability to enjoy much of anything, it felt like something.), go out with some friends. I keep trying. But it’s six of one, half-dozen of the other. Either the constant fighting against it, or the constant giving in to it. Even when I give up, I still can’t lose. It’s just fucked. I HAVE been looking at OCD specialists nearby (as I said, no fucking clue if this actual OCD of any kind, so maybe I’m self-diagnosing), and have found a few who take my insurance. None are very close by, but I can only go through so many of these before it seems like a viable option. But even if it is, It takes time to set up. Sometimes, I feel good after one of these rants for a few minutes, before it creeps back in. I just don’t know what the fuck to do. I can’t even think my own fucking thoughts.

Fuck. I’m sorry. I just need to get this out sometimes. I wish it would help.