Melancholy and mood swings

I have curtains now. My mom hung up the curtain rods for me, while she was here this week, and I now have curtains in the front room, and she taught me how to hang the rods, so I can put up the others in the bedrooms. I'll be hanging up the others shortly. I like them, and they make me smile when I look at them.

The increased dose on my meds is working, and it's making my moods more stable. I had to reverse the order on them, so I stop being awake all night, and asleep all day, but other than that, it's helping. Thank the gods, or I'd be even further over the edge than I currently am, and that's saying something for the few people who actually do come into contact with me.

If anyone actually views my Project Playlist arrangements, as promised, the choices are reflective of my moods, and those moods are melancholy, and I know it. There are reasons for that, and the holidays aren't particularly helping.

I have "My Immortal" playing right now, and I miss Kenny. I can't help but think of him first, whenever this plays. Kenny, laughing, and joking while we all played together. It makes me remember good times, with Brandon, with Danny, while we were all still happy. And then when he was gone, when everything seemed to kind of all go to shit.

And thinking of Kenny, and how long it's been, realistically, that he's been gone now, and I cry. And how wasted it was, and how much he was loved. Nothing will ever bring him back, and it's completely stupid. And that's enough of that, because all I am is angry at the loss of him.

Miss you Ssken. :( You were loved, you are remembered. You are *still* loved. By all of us.

But thinking of him, and that loss, makes me worry for others I know, and love, who have or had similar problems, and run those same risks when stress hits them. And I worry. And I am just as fucking powerless in their lives as I was in Kenny's, and all I can do is sit here, and wonder where they are now, and what they're doing, and it makes me quietly crazy, to think that it might be my fault, whatever might happen to them. And I'd never know, if something happened to them.

Kenny died, because of drugs he was using. I never realized in time, that he was using them again. And then he was gone, and I didn't save him. And he thought no one loved him enough. And I've always believed somehow we might have saved him, if we'd known, or if I could have helped more. Or *something*. And it eats at me, it always did.

I can't escape that, I've never been able to run away from it. So when I read Phil's blog, in July, I had an absolute panic attack, because it was like being hit in the stomach with a baseball bat, and watching someone else fall into that kind of pit. And even now, if he did something stupid, I still wouldn't know. Couldn't help. And it wouldn't make a damned bit of difference.

I hate the fucking holidays. It's been a pile of clusterfuck since the beginning of October. People dying left and right. Everyone is sick, or going broke. People in danger of losing their homes, or their jobs, or just one catastrophe or another. And things going wrong, and how much can anyone take, until they break?

And so at this point, I've gotten more and more quiet, and more and more withdrawn. I know it. Everyone has commented on it. I have no answers anymore. I have nothing productive to contribute. No good answer. I do what I'm supposed to do, to get through, one day at a time.

I gave up the fight. I did what was expected of me. I couldn't do anything else. But...now what?