A Routine.

I felt the sad come back.

I keep pushing it away… ignoring it.

I’ll pretend I never knew that feeling, that it never possessed me.


I checked my grades online, bad idea.

All my anxiety came back and drowned me in itself.

I remembered… How I felt. And why I felt that way.

Couldn’t stop myself from crying.

But I stopped quickly as I thought this would take the magic ‘limbo” feeling I have since the hospital.


I decided to do something… that defied how I felt and my anxieties.

((As stupid as it may be… it was calling a guy.))

I confronted my anxiety.

Then ignored the crap out of it.

Last night I was safe from it all.


For how long ? What will it take to drag me right back down where I was ?


I don’t know and I’m scared.

So… I’ve been doing this morning routine. The same we did in the hospital… as doped up zombies.

I’m waking up early.

Opening my windows and letting the light in.

I quickly get dressed, as if I had something to do.

I even have a mouthwash…

Then I take my pills and proceed to eat.

Then I just sit in my bed and stare at the wall… wondering what the fuck I’m supposed to begin with to get my life together again. (Or a least, less messy)… Just as I did back there.


If it got me stable last week.

Maybe it will do me well ?

Who knows… It’s stopping me from going to the laying-in-bed-crying-all-fucking-day area.

I just hope the bad feelings don’t come creeping out from wherever the fuck they are hiding…

. – . – . – .

So… people from my country visit this blog ?

That’s fucking creepy.

This country is small.

I hope no one knows me…

If someone does, please tell me that you have been here so… I censor myself.

Like, does my mom know I have this blog ? Fuck.

How the hell are people getting here ?!


And… just lurking.

Clean Clothes Campaign – Sign Petition

Clean Clothes Campaign – Sign Petition

Please enter these webpages. If you can, donate, if not you can sign the petition for an appropriate wage for these workers that are being exploited and have been for a long time. I don’t know if signing can help (it’s all I can do), but at least to get informed, know what’s going on and tell people about the fight to achieve justice for workers in the garment industry.

“Pay garment workers a living wage

I want the women and men who stitch my clothes to earn enough to feed their family, pay their rent and live a decent life. A living wage is a human right, for all people all over the world. I say it’s time to pay a living wage to all garment workers.”



More information about what is going on:  http://www.costoffashion.org/

It’s quiet and calm… for now.


I have a magnificent oportunity, and it is that I’ll be having some (probably a lot) of free time to get my life sorted out.

Most people that are hospitalized, they have to go back to their old lives… the same way, same shit.

My life is mostly the same.

I have changed… but it can be the constant medications I take, the limbo state in which I left the hospital or that I my mind is relaxed and my thoughts are calm.

I hope it’s the last one.


I plan on using this time on:

Researching about what to study, where to study it, if I can study it or if I will study.

I also have to get a job. Not any job. A job that doesn’t make me go insane… preferably in an office or online. Just put a computer in front of me ! …

Then… I want to start sketching more, letting my creativity out… maybe even paint ? Acrylics or watercolors… It’s been a long time.

I can’t stop writing. Either here, on a sketchbook or on Word. It helps me get a lot of mindfucks out of my mind.

Short stories, those need to start happening again. Fuck.

And… I want to read a fucking LOT. I am trying to get to 50 books this year, instead of the 25 I had planned before. I hope I make it ! (Right now I’m reading: Fight Club)


Let’s see if this works out.

I hope I don’t go back to how I was before.

I don’t want to feel that way anymore.

Or at least be able to control it.


My new morning routine. (Yes, morning, I am waking up early)

I open my windows first… let the sunshine in.

Instead of sulking in the dark.

And put some pants of, instead of laying on my bed all day watching tv series without knowing what day it is.

I’ll still watch tv series. But now I’ll separate time to do these activities.

Maybe I’ll fucking even start doing Yoga again.


I hope this way I feel, remains in me and isn’t the weird state in which I always leave after hospitalizations.

Let the sunshine in ! >;O !!


Attempt at getting better. Failed ?

So… I spent a week in a psychiatric hospital.

I went voluntarily for the first time ever.

Oh boy did I regret it.

I came back home today, well, actually it’s tomorrow already 2:00 am


This time was different.

I knew what to expect.

It was worse.

I knew all the therapies already.

They included religious themes…

And there were a lot of aggressive and impulsive patients, most heard voices.

This made me anxious at first, but then I just … sat there and read while they randomly screamed or started talking to themselves.

It also made me think, shit, I hope I don’t get there.


I puked in front of the door of my room because no one would open it …. and no one believed how bad my gastritis was.

It was pretty humiliating.

It got worse and now my stomach is really fragile and I’m back on the pills for my stomach.

I also became quite unstable for a couple of days because they took my Seroquel off.

One night I had, for the first time, a pychotic episode (or at least that’s what I found on the internet because no one explained to me what the fuck happened.)

They gave me some pills and it didn’t happen again.

Other weird shit happened… Maybe someday I’ll write about that…


But …. Somehow I have come stronger and weaker at the same time.

I was able to handle myself by myself in there.

There wasn’t enough staff for the quantity of patients there were.

They also had no empathy towards us, the patients.


I finally did what I felt like, not suffering through stupid therapies.

I read… tried to get my stomach well by eating, showered everyday, woke up everyday early.

Tried to be as social as I could…

As my last day came I really thought about what I felt had changed… I don’t feel my depression has gotten better, but I feel a in some way stable.

I feel… my mind, in some way, a little bit clearer.

I’m thinking more rationally.

And fucking stopped doing coke.


And I come out.

This time I just smile.

Because I’m fucking out, I made it.

But, how long will this feeling last.

I’m scared it will go away.

I’m scared I’ll get like I was before.


I get to my apartment.

Which was filled with flies…

And I read The Flies by Sartre while I was hospitalized.

Which is fucking weird.


My mom helped me get my room organized.

She left, and I felt really strange, like I was somewhere I didn’t belong.

I had… the choice of what to do next… and I didn’t know what to do with it.

My housemate wasn’t here… so I had no one to talk to.


I felt as if I had been in a bubble and now it wasn’t there to protect me.

I just sat in my bed, not knowing what to do.

So, I decided to distract myself by smoking weed and watching series.

I had planned to do this for a couple of days… going outside everyday a little more time that the day before.



One friend calls me and I answer.

She asks me how I am, then proceeds to tell me she broke up with her boyfriend.

He was horrible to her and hurt her feelings a lot.

But then, I start feeling the problems… everyone’s problems that make me have less hope of ever feeling better.

Then I remember my own problems.

Then my cousin visits me… and he starts saying life is shit, that he’s mad… and well, tells me his problems.

How he doesn’t know what to do with his life, what to study.

So… My housemate gets here and asks me if I want to go out drinking.

I am an alcoholic, I have told her a million times.

Just mentionin drinking makes me want to drink.

She says she’s sorry, that she forgets.

But mentioning beer… that’s enough for the thought to be invading my mind.


I just sat on my bed, listening to them about how shit life is… and I’m so overwhelmed… I don’t know how to react.

And they seem to have no consideration about the fact that I just came out of the psychiatric hospital…

Then… I get anxious and grab a beer.

No one stops me.

Then another… then another.

Then I took like 10 klonos.

I did everything I wasn’t supposed to do.


I should have gone to my parents house for a couple of days… but I thought people would at least pretend to talk about happy shit… or news… or whatever the fuck.

But this is reality. We all have problems. There is no break.

And me being locked up and turned into a zombie for a week didn’t stop the rest of the world from continuing being shit.

I expected at least a day of tranquility.


You cannot find peace by avoiding life. ” — Virginia Woolf