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BAD! BAD! BAD! BAD!


The increase to 2.5 milligrams of diazepam did not make me feel better.  Worse, in fact, and made even more so by my anticipation that I might feel better.  And when I didn’t I felt even worse because of my inaccurate expectations.

Very tired.  Easily agitated.  Noises from construction (and the cat who is becoming senile) make me want to jump out of my skin.

Am certain that people are avoiding talking to me.  At club.  This is purely projection and a signal that my psychological state is not good at all.  Maybe not entirely projection; the elderly are generally not thought to be very interesting.

Disassociation part of my mental fog.  Also not good.

Sitting on toilet gave myself a talk to in effect, “OK, so this is hard.  What did you expect.  You have come this far.  What’s the point in turning back.”

Blah, blah, blah.

Still I need to keep in mind that I am going through something for a purpose;  but that is getting hard to remember.

Did 20 minutes on bike, 30 on elliptical and swam .5 miles.

Tonight will continue with increased dose of diazepam, and–for the first time–take out three whole tablespoons of water.


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