What if... I wrote a book... called... ambien adventures? And the whole book was just filled with pages and pages of me rambling while on my nightly dosage of ambien, with no short term memory, probably delirious, and rambling about electric bear arms and the meaning of the universe being in the caverns of the carpet?
--
...that was my initial intention, but I have this little problem. I sleep type. This is what actually happened:
So, under the influence of ambien, this was my first attempt at writing:
Night one, eh? What should I expect to manifest out of the deotee dead memories are haunringmrwrww
i HAVE the weirdest sensation tonight as I try to thinksas
~~~~~~
... yeah, I don't think I'm going to do that again. Apparently I didn't stay very task-oriented.
--
Things don't always go according to plan.
This isn't the first time I've ended up sleep typing on ambien, but I can say I've experienced much worse. One night, after experiencing several traumatic things sequentially, I did something I never would have thought was possible: I attempted to kill myself while my conscious mind was sleeping.
The only thing I can say to that is, wow. I really must have hated myself at the time, although it wasn't my first attempt.
See, something you're going to find out about me is that my mind doesn't work in order. These things you read, they're going to reflect to you the way the mind of somebody clinically diagnosed with the curse and blessing of several mental illnesses.
I have several ways I'm fucked up, including, but not limited to: Bi-polar (Not Otherwise Specified, Ultradian Cycling and Psychotic Depression), Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Panic Disorder, Convulsive Disorder (with at least two forms of seizures), Attention Deficit Disorder (how that works with OCD eludes me, but somehow it does), Schizoid Personality Disorder, and I'm on the autism spectrum.
The last part I completely rejected when my therapist suggested it.
That in itself means nothing. Nothing to you, nothing to me, nothing to anybody; not without the back story. I'm going to take you on a journey through my mind... someplace that doesn't exist in heaven, nor hell, or even anywhere in between.
I'll warn you now: I've been through things such as substance abuse(more than fear and loathing), self-harm(not the attention whore variety, either), suicide attempts(so close, dammit), being 51-50'd and put on hold in the psychiatric ward several times, been homeless, and have been clinically dead at least a couple times. The things I've been through that led up to the event horizon that triggered this bullshit can be disturbing... I have PTSD for a reason, and I feel no obligation to hold back. I've held back my who fucking life; this is where I cut lose, no obligations, no strings attached. In fact, I don't give a fuck if you're reading this or not.
Maybe you want to see just what it's like, maybe you want to make sure you, yourself, are not crazy, maybe you (heaven forbid) relate, but this isn't for you. Quit being such a selfish bastard. Yeah I'm talking to you, reader. Why haven't you stopped reading this bull by now? I don't even.
But if you're still sticking around, then you're going to learn things that have never once escaped my mind and been known to the world, and very possibly, even to me. This will be a travel through the past, present, and future. I hope you enjoy your trip.
You see, people tend to think that the only warriors are the people who physically fight in a combat zone, attacking or defending a country for one reason or another; some willingly, some forced by their life situations, but they fail to realize that mental illness is, in many ways, very much the same. You'll come to see that war heroes are victims. These are some of the lame spoilers I'm giving you. Unfortunately it gets worse. Much worse. Try to keep up, and maybe you'll manage to find it. Maybe whatever would be hidden between the lines is not so hidden as one may think. Jerk. Yeah, I'm an asshole. Deal with it.
--
...that was my initial intention, but I have this little problem. I sleep type. This is what actually happened:
So, under the influence of ambien, this was my first attempt at writing:
Night one, eh? What should I expect to manifest out of the deotee dead memories are haunringmrwrww
i HAVE the weirdest sensation tonight as I try to thinksas
~~~~~~
... yeah, I don't think I'm going to do that again. Apparently I didn't stay very task-oriented.
--
Things don't always go according to plan.
This isn't the first time I've ended up sleep typing on ambien, but I can say I've experienced much worse. One night, after experiencing several traumatic things sequentially, I did something I never would have thought was possible: I attempted to kill myself while my conscious mind was sleeping.
The only thing I can say to that is, wow. I really must have hated myself at the time, although it wasn't my first attempt.
See, something you're going to find out about me is that my mind doesn't work in order. These things you read, they're going to reflect to you the way the mind of somebody clinically diagnosed with the curse and blessing of several mental illnesses.
I have several ways I'm fucked up, including, but not limited to: Bi-polar (Not Otherwise Specified, Ultradian Cycling and Psychotic Depression), Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Panic Disorder, Convulsive Disorder (with at least two forms of seizures), Attention Deficit Disorder (how that works with OCD eludes me, but somehow it does), Schizoid Personality Disorder, and I'm on the autism spectrum.
The last part I completely rejected when my therapist suggested it.
That in itself means nothing. Nothing to you, nothing to me, nothing to anybody; not without the back story. I'm going to take you on a journey through my mind... someplace that doesn't exist in heaven, nor hell, or even anywhere in between.
I'll warn you now: I've been through things such as substance abuse(more than fear and loathing), self-harm(not the attention whore variety, either), suicide attempts(so close, dammit), being 51-50'd and put on hold in the psychiatric ward several times, been homeless, and have been clinically dead at least a couple times. The things I've been through that led up to the event horizon that triggered this bullshit can be disturbing... I have PTSD for a reason, and I feel no obligation to hold back. I've held back my who fucking life; this is where I cut lose, no obligations, no strings attached. In fact, I don't give a fuck if you're reading this or not.
Maybe you want to see just what it's like, maybe you want to make sure you, yourself, are not crazy, maybe you (heaven forbid) relate, but this isn't for you. Quit being such a selfish bastard. Yeah I'm talking to you, reader. Why haven't you stopped reading this bull by now? I don't even.
But if you're still sticking around, then you're going to learn things that have never once escaped my mind and been known to the world, and very possibly, even to me. This will be a travel through the past, present, and future. I hope you enjoy your trip.
You see, people tend to think that the only warriors are the people who physically fight in a combat zone, attacking or defending a country for one reason or another; some willingly, some forced by their life situations, but they fail to realize that mental illness is, in many ways, very much the same. You'll come to see that war heroes are victims. These are some of the lame spoilers I'm giving you. Unfortunately it gets worse. Much worse. Try to keep up, and maybe you'll manage to find it. Maybe whatever would be hidden between the lines is not so hidden as one may think. Jerk. Yeah, I'm an asshole. Deal with it.
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