Cryptic snea
It has been a tough time. With a minimal dosage of haloperidol, and yet no paranoia. I think i'm moving towards bipolar. I relied on the voices so much, for so long, that now, without them, I feel a void inside me. Whenever I needed some help, I would start talking to him. And I would get my answers. It gave me whatever I needed to know, be it good or bad. It was there to help me chalk out my plans, to accept survival and how, or whether to reject it. Without it, without him, I couldn't even think about doing anything. I knew I had someone to fall back on. That fight is no more valid. I needed to be myself and work things out. But that too, seemed ironic. I'm in a state as I was earlier, when I had just joined college, living in the hostel. No friends, no contacts, building up new relationships, and most importantly, being with myself.
My friend has been helping me get over this dilemma of no more voices. I know now that there are friends and family to help me out, but I also realize the extent to which they can help. Ultimately, metallica again "...[I am]by myself, but not alone..." ...."no one but me can save myself but its too late..." I don't know whether the Bourne is still alive in me or not. I don't know if it can ever be laid to rest. But with or without myself, I know that life must go on.
Posted by puzli at June 23, 2006 06:34 AM
