Automatic Writing

I didn’t really get up early enough for automatic writing. I woke up with my heart fluttering in my chest again and took a beta blocker before going back to bed for a little while. The quetiapine is giving me palpitations - my heart rate is slow enough but it feels like it’s beating strangely, too strong in my chest and not quite regular. J. is in the shower, very hot the way he likes it, and long. I need to make myself have a shower this morning, his parents are coming over to help with the house. I don’t feel like hosting, telling them what we need help with, being dressed and presentable. 

I’m feeling alone, nothing I do matters and I have these images in my head of people who know me, their indifference. Maybe I need to find a way to be comfortable with my own mediocrity, with periods of not doing anything special, so I’m not constantly doing everything I can to avoid the emptiness, to pour anaesthetic on the pain. But I’ve been doing nothing for long enough, it feels like. I suppose that feeling is symptomatic.