I went to pick up my new antidepressants yesterday, thinking that it would be the $8 that most of my 'scripts are.

It was over $43. I don't have that much money. I have $10 in my pocket and just over $8 in the bank. I don't know what I'm going to do if I don't get unemployment. I so scared that I feel achy, as if I'm getting sick.

Everything is falling apart and I don't know what to do about it.

Why is everything so difficult? I'd like to think that if you try hard enough, that things will work out and everyone will be happy again. It doesn't seem to work that way. All the forgiveness in the world can't make someone feel better if they haven't forgiven themselves. I might be making too much of this, it wouldn't be the first time that I blew everything out of proportion. And sadly it won't be the last. I just want everything to go back to when I thought I knew what was going on. At the very least there was communication.

I'm blowing off steam here. I don't want anyone to feel obligated to do anything that they aren't ready to do or that they don't want to do anymore.

I'm feeling so sad, as if someone has died. Where did the fun go?

I'm bored. Who wants to entertain me?

Anyone?

A song. A dance. Some selzer down the pants. (Tickles.) Tell me a story. Review a movie I haven't seen.

I've taken to watching Sunday Night Sex Show every night at 11pm. I'm learning stuff that I have no opportunity to use. There was just a bumper that read, When dealing with the clit, remember a woman wants to be aroused, not erased. Heeheehee. That is perfect. I like this show, the woman, Sue Johansan, looks like your maiden aunt but does hand motions like she's masterbating and what a penis does inside a vagina. It delights me not end that she says things that are blush worthy as if she is giving someone the recipe for apple pie.

I think she's Canadian.

Bless her and her important work.

I think she's on Letterman tonight. This I have to see.

Heh heh.

Singing.

All by myself, I don't want to be, all by myself, anymore.

When the Webutrion is out of my system, in three days according to the doctor, I'm going to get drunk.

I probably won't, but it feels good to know I will have the option.

I'm feeling better about what happened yesterday. We haven't talked, but we have exchanged a couple of emails, and I think things will be better than before. I'm hoping that anyway. Open communications is the way to go. At least I think so.

I'm embarrassed and a little hurt.

I received an email from a friend that was clearly meant for someone else. I say this because it was about me in a tone that threw me for a second. In this email, it was said that I wouldn't listen to advice that this friend wanted to, or felt like they couldn't, give me.

I'm embarrassed because I feel like I looked in someone's diary and discovered a dirty secret.

And I'm hurt because I wasn't given a chance to listen or not listen to the advice that my friend was talking about.

The email was sent from someone who I thought I had an honest, say anything you think/believe relationship with. Now I'm doing that universal reevaluation; what else did I get wrong?

I suppose that I wouldn't feel quite so bad if my antidepressants were working, the Welbutrion isn't working at all, (in fact I called my doctor today to be put on a new drug) and I'm being bombarded with old thought processes.

I can logically see that it was a mistake, my friend wasn't talking to me, and everyone has a bad day or feeling about someone that they care about, but I don't feel it.

Sad. I'm feeling sad now. Still embarrassed. Still hurt. Now sad.

I replied, because I don't like secrets, and let my friend know that the email was sent to me. I don't know what else to do.

I know I'm being obsessive, I haven't felt this way for awhile, but I remember the feeling. It's "...like a cut on the roof of your mouth that you know you shouldn't tongue, but you do." That's from Fight Club, I think I got it right. I know that it's the feeling, things I should let go but can't. I hope I get the new meds soon, I don't like feeling like this.

I've mailed off the DVD's to NetFlix. This means that Donnie Darko is no longer in my control. I watched it a total of 4 times in 3 days. It was so good.

Now I'm watching Hedwig and the Angry Inch, another favorite. I think I really enjoy the darkness and comedy combo. It makes sense to me in a way that nothing else does. When things are dark sometimes the only thing you can do to bring the light is laughter.

I laughed at my mother's funeral. I was looked at with scorn and hate, how could you laugh -- your mother is dead. My mother loved to laugh, I wish I would have been together enough to suggest telling funny stories about her. I think she would have liked that.

I hope that after I die there will be a party and stories will be told about how I made life a little lighter, a little easier, by helping those around me to laugh.

I think that would be fitting.

What do you want done after you die?