witchalicious

surrounded by clutter, I am having a panic attack. I have done absolutely nothing today, and I have things to clean up. things to clean up and put away. phone calls to make and sedatives to take. no wait. I took one this a.m. after being unable to get back to sleep naturally after the daily co-habitant shifting of 6 a.m. right now I have slept but my eyes feel like they are rotting. I am attempting to cook, and hopefully I can start supper early this evening and bake what I planned to bake. my mind is jumping from one thing to another and I am having difficulty sticking to writing this entry. how can I handle all this? that is what I am thinking. my mind is meandering about the possibilities and horrendous realities that are now. why does it all seem so hard? I contemplated sending a commentary to a bipolar magazine, however I just feel that the magazine is too happy peppy and unrealistic. they would never accept my entry. I wonder if they have a reject bin full of submissions like my present feelings; of highdom, sadness, hopelessness. and then they take a nice few rare entries on how life is grand if you just have enough mind-numbing medications and such a great therapist and they edit them to pieces making it ultra-brite, to a point where I can barely look at the page directly. I wonder when I can ever function normally, I feel at a loss; for words, mind-body control, and a life. art projects are never going to get done at the rate I am going, what will become of me? I believed I would make it to where I want to be, but will the years just keep on passing to nowhere and here? what happens when you are already at wits end and it get worse. . .