I’ve been quiet lately. It’s unlike me. And it’s because I’m depressed as fuck, and I don’t know what to do about it.

I didn’t post about it because I loathe myself when I’m sad and mopey. I’m annoyed at myself when I’m off kilter. And right now, I’m mad as hell that I let things get this bad before I said anything about it.

Also, I’m blogging about this at all so I don’t accidentally click “purchase” on the MacBook Air I’m eyeballing. Because that would cheer me up, for sure – but to what end?

Don’t get me wrong, I really want a laptop (and incidentally, I’m selling my iPad 2 – email me if you’re interested). I just can’t tell if I want it so bad because I think it’ll fix all my problems, or if because I am tired of the limitations with the iPad.

But I’m stalling again, so I’ll ignore that train of thought for the moment. I am really, really fucking depressed. Like, dangerous levels. Bus tire levels. Thinking maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I just wasn’t here at all levels. This terrifies me – more so because I orchestrated a day at home alone just in case I decided to see how long it would take to draw blood with a butter knife. Yes, I’m mostly embellishing for effect – but I planned it out. Started thinking about who I could give all my stuff to so Ed wouldn’t have to deal with it. I have a lot of stuff; it would take time to divvy it all up .. but then. What then? Where the fuck is this coming from? And how do I make it STOP? I don’t want to be like this. I don’t even want to be inside my own head right now. Things are so, so, so bad inside here – my safe place; the one place I could always retreat to because it was filled with cotton candy and ponies – but it’s all dark and scary and there’s NOTHING. Great heaping fields of terrible, terrible nothing. I would welcome wolves.

I upped my meds once this year, and that caused all new exciting problems. Dialed them back, was fine for a short while. Darkness started creeping in again; so I upped the dose once more. It’s not helping. I don’t know what to do. I miss myself; hate this brittle shell of a Kimli sitting in the dark waiting for a house to fall on her. I miss seeing the good in everything; seeing the fun in every square inch of my existence instead of this oppressive wall of nothing. I’m scared for myself when I can think logically enough to be worried. I don’t know what to do to fix this, so I’m going with angry: I’m mad as hell about being mad as hell, and something has got to change and it has to change NOW before things get fucking stupid.

Where do I go from here?

Help.