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We watched Prozac Nation last night. All i knew about it was that Jonathan Rhys-Meyers was in it. It was painful because it made me think about things i didn't really want to think about. Like, you could see this character doing things and they're fucked but you already know that's what they're going to do because it's what it's like and your brain just doesn't work properly. I try not to talk about it or think about it because just doing that makes it worse. Last night i ended up in tears in bed and fell asleep but really anxious or restless or something.

Because i try not to talk about it i guess i haven't mentioned i have this horrible anxiety about falling... It sort of seems like it's been pretty stable over the past year or two and each day longer that nothing terrible happens i get more anxious that something will. Sometimes when i'm alone in the dark, in the bathroom at night or something it's like fucking breaking down like somehow holding back waves but they probably aren't even there it's just the fear that they are.

There's this great line in Drugstore Cowboy (re-watched it last week) that goes something like: a junkie has a pretty good idea of how he's going to feel from one moment to the next, he just looks at the label on the bottle. I guess it's one of the main reasons people do drugs because you know for the next 8 hours you're going to be THERE, wherever there is - as long as it's not HERE. Since i've been in Melbourne all my money is food, rent, transport and that's it. I know it's pathetic but it frustrates me that i can't have my little escapes, even if they're only occasional these days. I can't really afford alcohol. It's even a bit of a splurge to pay cover charge and cab fares for a night out. Hence the movie weekends actually. And starting to read books again. Art is cheap drugs, i guess.

I don't know. I'm not really depressed i don't think, just frustrated that i don't have a job which means i don't have enough income which means i can't do the things i want to do. I'm also lost because i don't even really know what i want to do anyway. I'm also in this strange city that's a wonderful place to be but it's cold and they don't have kebabs and i miss little stupid things. And also i'm anxious, getting more anxious every day and with no work or weekends to take my mind off it sometimes it's spinning like into nothing.

What really kicked it all off this week was having to do a medical for a job i applied for. The job is in the bag, they just needed results from the medical and to do a criminal background check. Little did i know the doctor would zero in on 700mg sodium valproate per day. I need a letter from my current GP to say that i'm stable, that i'm not fucking crazy. My current GP has only examined my knees so first i need to get my records transferred from Brisbane, then the current GP has to read them and then produce a letter. I know it's all just bureaucracy but it just drives the point home when i need a fucking letter from my doctor assuring my employer-to-be that i'm not crazy. It's been four, five years now and i have to keep taking these fucking pills the rest of my life? Fuck. That sucks.

I shouldn't be defined by the pills i take, you know. Usually i'm not. Some of the people reading this probably didn't even know i have to take pills. But it's one of those things i guess that never goes away, and even if you try not to talk about it or try not to think about it, it's still there ready to fuck with you when the chips are down. Blah.

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