Strife.

So I slept all day today.

I got so high the other night and was up until 5am roleplaying with Ryan, and that was great and fun and social and normal. Then I woke up this morning, by which I mean four in the afternoon, and I called Centrelink, and then I swallowed my pride and called my parents. Got abused, left in limbo and told they’d get back to me. Get back to me - as if making sure their child has enough to eat is the secondary consideration next to the name that he called me the other week, you know what he’s like, controlling little bastard. So they’re letting me stew, and look at my bank account, and sweat. They know about the new medication. They know why I need it. They just don’t care.

Dad stepped up to the plate, of all people. Finally agreed to send me a hundred bucks. It’s something.

I feel like a ghost in my own house. The weather was unseasonably cold and windy, and the cat has been hiding under the bed. Nobody else has come in and out all day aside from Sav - a breath of life for a small instant - and then she left again and I was alone. I keep walking the track between bathroom and bedroom, and the same fucking song keeps playing because I can’t bring myself to change it, and I feel like a ghost.

I think the meds might be starting to work though, so there’s that. It might be too soon, it might be a placebo effect, but I feel numb, and that’s something I’m thankful for regardless of the source.

The sun will come out tomorrow and I will fix things.