I should be sleeping . . .

If you only knew
What I'm trying to do
Trying to prove
Keep my head high
Remain alive
Take it in stride
If you only knew
The turmoil inside
Exposed by my eyes
Hidden with lies
If you only knew
That this would lead me
Back to the start of this
Always
Back to the start of this
This is
Not the end of this yet . . .


Bit of a random poem. Haven't written poetry since high school. That's, well, 15 years. But it's been floating around in my head, so I figured I ought to get it out.
And yes, I should be sleeping. But I'm not. Insomnia setting in, racing thoughts again. Quite lovely. That's sarcasm, by the way. If you know me, you picked up on that though.
I've had a couple of "normal" days. Thank god for that. Less manic symptoms, no real depressive symptoms. I'm hoping my lithium levels are becoming therapeutic now. Because the racing, the not stopping, the shaking, lack of concentration, the nervousness . . .all of that is getting old. It's slowing, leaving. Seemingly. And away it should stay, locked up in the recesses of my mind, a tidy coffin of black and red with gold filigree . . .
I don't think I'm making sense. I've taken a klonopin to help me sleep . . .so I may ramble. Who knows really. This is more stream of consciousness anyway. And my own blog. So I'll write how the fuck I want. That was rude. Oh well.
I keep getting nervous about my next therapy session. I dropped a bit of a bombshell 2 posts ago. I had printed that post for M to read, to better understand my confusing thoughts . . .and, well, those bombshells? We're going to be talking about them. Yes we are. And it's terrifying. I've never told ANYONE ANYTHING about them. Ever. At all. Not even my hubby knew. He found out by reading my blog. Sorry hon. Thinking about it fills me with dread like I never thought it would. I always thought, hey, no big deal. You got through, you moved on, it doesn't affect you. And I truly thought it didn't. And then . . .it randomly comes out in a blog post. Which must mean that it affects me in some way. Maybe it's through my relationship with M that I somehow now feel comfortable enough to talk about it. But I have to admit, it had been on my mind for a couple of weeks before I wrote it. Like I was looking for a reason to bring it up. A reason to get it out in the open . . .but what the hell do you say? Oh hey, by the way, I was raped and sexually assaulted. Have a good weekend! It's not something you bring up in casual conversation. Or, if you're me, then you do. Because you're an idiot and you don't have proper filters or self control. (I mentioned my nervousness about talking about my rape to my 2 best and trusted friends. In casual conversation. WTF, self? Obviously, they didn't know, and didn't know how to react. Whoops.) I should also mention that this was after it was decided by M and I that we were going to discuss  this topic.
So yes. I will talk with M about it. we'll see how it goes. And then, if I'm comfortable, and J wants to know what happened, then we can talk about it. Which is equally, if not MORE, terrifying. I don't even know.
Kick in klonopin. I should sleep. I need sleep. No sleep makes the racing worse. And I had a busy, overstimulating day at work. An almost full resuscitation on a newborn in a delivery I did. Gets the adrenaline pumping, the mind moving . . . Though I kept us from having to do chest compressions. Go me.
I don't think this post will make sense in the morning.
You're welcome.