1-27-2002 | 2:30 a.m.

Enough. I can't talk to anyone. I don't want to be locked up in some psych ward again. It's always the night - well early morning. I can't sleep and all these crazy ideas run through my head. Too much. How I am so undeserving of my friends and family.

I think I'm just going to stop the Wellbutrin. Sick of all these meds that "will surely keep you stable."

And the Xanax - I don't think I can stop on my own. I just had another prescription of 90 pills filled.

If anyone is listening and considering Xanax, Valium or any other benzos - don't start! No matter how many times I detox, there comes a time when I need it again. And too many doctors are eager to put those pills in my hands.

You know what pisses me off even more? JANE magazine had this column listing ways to relax and rates the effectiveness. A few months ago they praised Xanax. This month they spoke of the amazing feeling Vicodin provides. What the fuck are these people doing? I see reader letters in the mag, in which people ask where and how they can get Vicodin. And it's all about being 'trendy' - the editor/writers of "JANE" want to seem cutting edge.

Jane Pratt let me write an article on Xanax addiction. Nah, they wouldn't want the truth.

Fuck, I need a drink so bad. It's sick, I can taste the vodka. Taste bud flashback? hmmmmm. Weird. Man, this entry will most likely be ridiculed and I'll seem whiny. I read a comment in someone's guest book - judging me on my layout. My "disneyfied crappy page" - not even worth writing about.

Why am I writing here? I need to get back to a psychiatrist. But no, Dr. Plotkin yeah you just try to push ECT on me again.

Maybe I'll be able to feel if I'm off the meds. Feel more than anger and crazy highs and lows. Something like that. And I am not spell checking this entry - so just deal with my errors. I'm far from perfect.