It's hard to pound out an entry, something to remind you guys that I'm still alive and kicking, when I'm feeling this run-down. I've never been slapped upside the head with a 2X4, but I would imagine it feels similar to this. I actually slept not 8 but 12 hours last night. 12 hours. That's more sleep than I had gotten in the last 3 days combined.

Needless to say, my trigger is slight. A whisper, almost. Small things turn my blood to ice. I won't be told how to act, what to say, how to behave and how to feel... I simply won't. When my base level returns to normal, when my ability to reason resumes... then I'll continue my regular relationships. Until then, consider me a ghost. I'm not quite the meek, mild girl that my alter ego is so good at pretending I am. Underneath this all lies a caged tiger, waiting to get out. I may be a vegetarian, but when I'm not feeling good all I can smell is meat. I want to bite, attack, worry, kill; my mind doesn't let me forget or bury my carnal instincts.

So, for the good of all involved, I'll be scarce until this illness is over. God help everyone I come into contact with in real life.

This entry was posted by Mellie, on Thursday, August 24, 2006.