think that there's a soul somewhere thats leading me around

Did the People Magazine this morning, then came home and slept for an hour and a half because for some reason I can't seem to sleep at night. I also couldn't escape the vain thought that perhaps I should be out in the world taking advantage of the beautiful makeup job they'd done on me instead of smearing it all over the pillowcase but just as I was reconsidering my choice I fell asleep.
Woke up to Sarah calling in crisis, about to do her Sierra Tucson intake interview, and I talked to her for awhile. As lucky as I am to not be in that pre-treatment surrender space of knowing you're about to go into a voluntary prison and feeling the panic that the world will shift around you while you're in there, I can't help but feel deeply sad that I'm out, alone in this real world and feel about as much a part of it as I did in treatment. Its all shifting around me as though I operated from my own little vaccuum, like I may as well be in treatment myself. Guess its all just self-absorbed powerlessness, that terminal uniqueness thing. Feel like I'm living in a Ben Folds five song