I'm not going to try and predict the future but I do have to say that things may be a little unpredictable around here for a while.
The highs and lows are really draining me. This is typical benzo withdrawal behaviour. Sometimes I even question my quest to come off the nastier of my prescription medication. Why not just have a quiet life? I also question being in therapy as I think I'm hitting a rough patch. Then I realise I only have my therapist to talk to and I chicken out of stopping. So I swing from mania to exhaustion and back again, punch drunk and directionless.
But I do remember what a quiet life was like. A living death. And I realise that even though days like today leave me feeling utterly defeated, exhausted beyond crying and as emotionless as a zombie, that I must persevere. Ride out the nightmares, breathe through the panic, rest my eyes from exhaustion. Ride out the nightmares, breathe through the panic, rest my eyes from exhaustion. Ride out the nightmares, breathe through the panic, rest my eyes from exhaustion. Repeat ad infinitum.
The highs make it worthwhile for one thing. Going out, or even staying in, and feeling alive and happy is something I haven't felt for a long time. Now there are windows of it.
And I hope that even if there are more bad days than good for a while, the end result will be more good days than bad. More feeling in my life, more clarity in my life. More life in my life. Better writing.
Today I cooked an ommlette and a baked potato. And I wrote this about how I am feeling. And a friend came over. I could barely concentrate but I wanted to see her as she's having a baby anytime now. Loved her bump. And yes, I did pat it. I tried not to, as I remember just how bloody annoying it is. But I couldn't help it.