The meds, they've been good. And by good, I'm not sure that I mean they're working as they should, but instead that I feel slightly below manic all of the time, which is, well it's fun, but I feel it might also be dangerous.
It takes the edge off, the anxiety, it's much improved, I still have panic attacks, but I've always had to deal with them so it's not so bad I suppose.
Everything is sort of floaty, and quite numb, but its not unpleasant. I don't really care about much, I don't really have any motivation, but I get flashes of feeling good which haven't been present for quite some time.
I have a lot of physical energy, I can't walk to the kitchen, I have to jog. I don't appear to need sleep, the insomnia has lessened, I sleep most nights, but only for 3 or so hours.
I've been wondering what would happen when there was finally some pressure put on me, how I'd cope. Well this morning, the sky fell in and the answer is: not very well. I lost a few hours to crying, shivering and whatever else I get up to in my dissassociative state. The rest of my day will be pretty shaky and tonight I'm certain to dream of razorblades.