More nightmares. Fml.
Posted March 29th 2011 at 11:43 AM by LlamaLlamaDuck
So tired. I dreamt that I was at the top of the stairs in my grandad's house. He was trying to hurt me. I thought he was going to kill me. I pushed him away from me and he tumbled down the stairs really quickly, hit his head off something at the bottom and skidded across the carpet. He was dead. I tried to call an ambulance or something but every time I dialled 999 it just rang out.
My uncle Tom showed up. I haven't seen him in years. Couldn't stop crying. Couldn't breathe. I explained what happened and he followed me inside. Then my two aunts were outside and I had to tell them what happened. Someone had put him in the living room. I still couldn't stop crying. I knew everyone hated me.
Then I was alone in the living room. Hitting myself. Scratching my arms. Punching my leg as hard as I could and hitting my head. Trying to wake myself up. Trying to convince myself it was a dream. But no matter how hard I tried to hit myself, it was like my hand was moving slowly. Like something was stopping it. It didn't hurt. Then my grandad was there. I asked him to hit me and he just slapped my hand. Like he was high fiving me. It didn't hurt. I couldn't feel anything. Started crying again. Asked him why he didn't hate me for killing his son. (I killed him and suddenly he's alive and it's his son I killed. Maybe I was actually talking to the great grandfather I never met.) He hugged me tightly and told me he didn't hate me because I'm his granddaughter. And that his (the person I killed) mum didn't blame me either. He said that people were coming to investigate it.
To see if there were air bubbles in his lungs because that would indicate suicide. Not murder. I finally woke up. Crying. Scared.
I don't understand why I'm having so many nightmares. They're really scaring me and I don't know if it's because I stopped taking the fluoxetine. I basically ran out on Thursday. I still have one left. Not sure why I'm keeping it. I can't get anymore until this Friday. My mum thinks I got more last week. She'd go mad if she found out I haven't been taking it for almost a week.
I can get it online, technically. It's a site that says if you have a valid prescription from your doctor, they can send you it. But you have to pay (I don't pay for any prescriptions just now) them and I'm a little iffy if they know you have a valid prescription, how can they know that unless they have access to medical notes? That's illegal. Only my doctors are allowed to read those and only if they're treating me. So I don't know. Guess I'll wait until Friday.
Placement tomorrow. Can't be bothered with it. Only thing keeping me going is knowing that I won't have to go on Friday because term will be done.
Keep picking at the healing cuts on my arm. It'll probably make them scar. Don't really care. Meh.
Today will be fun. Going for a walk later.
My uncle Tom showed up. I haven't seen him in years. Couldn't stop crying. Couldn't breathe. I explained what happened and he followed me inside. Then my two aunts were outside and I had to tell them what happened. Someone had put him in the living room. I still couldn't stop crying. I knew everyone hated me.
Then I was alone in the living room. Hitting myself. Scratching my arms. Punching my leg as hard as I could and hitting my head. Trying to wake myself up. Trying to convince myself it was a dream. But no matter how hard I tried to hit myself, it was like my hand was moving slowly. Like something was stopping it. It didn't hurt. Then my grandad was there. I asked him to hit me and he just slapped my hand. Like he was high fiving me. It didn't hurt. I couldn't feel anything. Started crying again. Asked him why he didn't hate me for killing his son. (I killed him and suddenly he's alive and it's his son I killed. Maybe I was actually talking to the great grandfather I never met.) He hugged me tightly and told me he didn't hate me because I'm his granddaughter. And that his (the person I killed) mum didn't blame me either. He said that people were coming to investigate it.
To see if there were air bubbles in his lungs because that would indicate suicide. Not murder. I finally woke up. Crying. Scared.
I don't understand why I'm having so many nightmares. They're really scaring me and I don't know if it's because I stopped taking the fluoxetine. I basically ran out on Thursday. I still have one left. Not sure why I'm keeping it. I can't get anymore until this Friday. My mum thinks I got more last week. She'd go mad if she found out I haven't been taking it for almost a week.
I can get it online, technically. It's a site that says if you have a valid prescription from your doctor, they can send you it. But you have to pay (I don't pay for any prescriptions just now) them and I'm a little iffy if they know you have a valid prescription, how can they know that unless they have access to medical notes? That's illegal. Only my doctors are allowed to read those and only if they're treating me. So I don't know. Guess I'll wait until Friday.
Placement tomorrow. Can't be bothered with it. Only thing keeping me going is knowing that I won't have to go on Friday because term will be done.
Keep picking at the healing cuts on my arm. It'll probably make them scar. Don't really care. Meh.
Today will be fun. Going for a walk later.
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