I have to accept the fact I can not live without medicine now. Yet medicine gives me both a life and insanity.
Someday, I could not distinguish between shampoo and soap. I was trying hard to recognize the shampoo, but I could not.
One other day, I opened the control panel in Windows and was looking for the control panel inside the control panel. I could not notice my mistake.
I had been trying to clean my room. But I can not find out what to do.
I want to cook, but I can not figure out what I should start with.
I have to overcome the crowded train, but currently I can never even think about it.
I have to try talking with the people, but I lose my words when I think about talking with somebody.
If I talk with somebody and hear some words with negative thinking, I feel like dying.
My soul is stark and desolated like Sahara desert when I try to do something new.
My heart is filled with too much tears but I never cry for myself. Because somebody will worry about me when I let my tears out.
Therefore, I have to fight against my evil and despair alone.
Is the cause of this insanity the medicine? Or is my sickness the very cause? I frequently stop any movement, when I have some problems.
Still I can not quit taking medicine. Quitting medicine is fatal to me.
I am so disappointed about myself. I am being useless in the public. Even in my home.
Past diary
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