Crash and Burn in hell

mania has come to an abrupt halt and the forces of mental gravity have pulled me back down into the bowels of hell. pain. so much pain. mentally. physically. I want to cry, but can't. I want to scream, but can't. I feel the need to vomit, also can't. touching the keys to type this is physically painful, but I must document. I must not let this disease rule me anymore. I cannot let it kill me. and so I strain my muscles to make small movements to get it out... to tell the world... I may look like a lump in the bed, but I'm still alive in here somewhere, and in spite of all the pain that I would give anything to be relieved of, I am not willing to give my life. too many precious people are counting on me to make it through this and get healthy. this is sufficient. rough. crude. arm will surely fall off if I continue to force it against its will. a broken arm would surely complicate things further. I'm freezing... need more blankets...wtf? it's June. Who the hell needs blankets in June? apparently I do...or else I might freeze to death.