even st.patrick can't save me

The past couple of days I have been off, so off.

I don't sleep or I can't stop sleeping. I can't eat or I can't stop eating. I do both at odd hours. My mind and body are confused.

I walk around light headed. Look at people nervously, bump into strangers, don't know who's talking to me.

I don't know if it's my mind or my health I need to worry about.

Called the health clinic, they're booked. Called a health service number; the nurse told me to go get myself checked up. But I'm too tired to walk down to the hospital. I don't feel a doctor or drugs are what I need right now. So I cry. I cry because I have no voice to how I feel.

I create my own remedy: an old comedy on DVD and a few bowls of cereal. I feel much better. I feel I might possibly be insane, but at least I feel better.

I have an art history essay due tomorrow. I left a confused message on my teachers voice mail. I will attempt to write the essay tonight, and go to class tomorrow. But if I lose late marks rather than my mind, that is okay.

I need a break from school and am glad I have planned Paris as a temporary escape. School has never been a strength of mine. I have very poor concentration and the hydrogen lights of classrooms make my head spin. I've spent many years trying to heal my bruised self-esteem that was damaged in elementary school. I was never as quick as other students. Always lost in class. Always lacking common knowledge. Always near tears in math class. Hiding tears in gym class.

University is different, but at times I still struggle. At least now I know I have a brain.

At the moment I just need to find my head.