Three days out of treatment, two days without sleep. I think and I think and I think, my brain refuses to shut down, the insanity grows every waking moment. I couldn’t even tell you what I’m thinking about except for one thing. That one is that I wish I were still in treatment due to the fact that I would have someone to talk to at any moment, night and day. I need or at least want someone to tell me that my thoughts are far from rational and that my fears about the distant future are something I shouldn’t waste my time ruminating over. It’s 2AM and I just want to hear someone tell me that it’s going to be okay and I’m going to be okay. I want someone to hold me and assure me that I’m safe, that in this moment I am okay. Instead I am alone and the feeling of being alone is record breaking in the current moment. Netflix, books, music, and Amazon.com can’t fix it and Diet Coke is probably making it worse along with chain smoking. The voices are getting louder and the paranoia is more prominent and the less I sleep the stronger they will become. hat one already. I don’t miss being locked inside, I don’t miss the food, I don’t miss certain therapists, I don’t miss the lack of control, I don’t miss the few and far between cigarette breaks, and I don’t miss being treated like I’m defective (I do a pretty good job at that already.) I do miss the people, I miss them a lot, more than I could have counted on. I miss the special bond I had with some, the connection, the trust, and the example that life doesn’t have to always be so difficult. I’m now sitting in bed with tears streaming down my face and lighting another cigarette. I just want to be okay, something I don’t think I have ever felt even if I was okay I still lacked the feeling. Time for another Diet Coke as I finish my cigarette and then back to Netflix… am I expecting a different result while doing the same thing? I suppose.