00.40 AM, Falköping, Sweden
Dear diary.
Sitting here alone... Erik went out with some friends and I'll be all by myself all night. Still not feeling well, even after todays notification from Borås Bostäder that I'm getting the apartment. I'll be moving in on June 5th, and then I'm finally, after years of waiting, living exactly where I want to live, surrounded by people I trust and care about... and some I don't trust and rather would see dead. But hey, you can't get everything perfect.
I just realized that I started writing this post with my head full of stuff I wanted to write down, but now it's just gone... am I getting alzheimers now as well or what? Ah, hell, it's no use... I'll get back to y'all.
Later
02.40 AM
I wish there was someone here. Someone who can silence the voices screaming inside my head. Someone to hold, someone to touch. But I'm alone. All alone.
Opened a fresh bottle of triazolam today... I promised myself to keep off the pills, but they keep me from falling too deep down in this bottomless pit I'm in. They turn the screams into whispers, and I silently drift away into sleep, hearing only the faint sounds of my heart slowing down. Sometimes it feels like it stops beating, like I'm in a coma, but can see and hear everything going on around me... I can't defeat this monster.
Heaven, where is my angel?
I need her now, holding me
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