Coming back from the other side of my Bipolar Wonderland through medication, creativity, and moxie.
Days alive: 12,156.01
Headaches: 1
Hours slept: 3.5
Alarm goes off: 6:25am
I was really hoping for a good nights sleep. But alas, a headache.
Hopefully I can get back to sleep here shortly. The cats are being exceedingly cuddly right now. So that does help a bit.
I would read, but my eyes hurt from this damn headache.
Oh well.
At least I got to have some goofy adventures with J today. Never underestimate the power of faffing off at Target for a bit.
Days alive: 12,155
Words written: 2,045
Bright gold jacket bought: 1
Hours lipstick has stayed: 11 and counting
The orchids in the backyard is blooming something fierce. They’re a lovely color I am pretty sure my hair has been at some point.
It’s pretty. I need pretty things in my life right now. I’m feeling quite awful mentally. As to why I’m not quite sure.
Days alive: 12,154
MegaLoad washers in use: 2
Cost for one basket of laundry: $6.25
Cost for one box of soap: $0.75
Hours slept: 6.5 hours
Full hampers of laundry to be done: 3
Hey, look at that. There is post on Sundays!
I’ve slept, but my anxiety is through the roof so far today. I don’t seem to be able to do anything right. And Steph is somehow more sunburnt than I am so I can’t be affectionate at all without bothering her.
I feel like a colossal inconvenience in general right now.
I’ve been two days straight without sleep now. As in, two solid days awake. The new medication is really screwing with me.
Days alive: no clue.
Hours awake: lost count.
I still have barely slept. I think my total is less than six hours for this week. My hands won’t stop shaking and I’m so tired my chest aches like I’ve gotten into a bar fight and lost-badly.
I feel like the terrible ice cream cone that’s melting faster than anyone can eat it. Like I’m just dissolving into a pile of useless, colorful goo.
It me.I’m trying to power through. I’m trying to keep going. But I also called my doctor for help because I absolutely can’t continue like this.
Pray for me, and pray that sleep is no longer an evasive bastard.
Edit: typos fixed. I think?
Days alive: 12,149.5
Hours awake: 45 and change.
I was hoping to sleep well tonight. Not so, I guess. New med still screwing with my sleep schedule. Maybe I’ll get some rest tomorrow night.
It was a chill, restful evening after a stomach churning levels of stressful day at work. I’m hoping things will get better soon. I keep wildly vacillating between braking into tears and being so bloody manic/upbeat/cheerful I want to strangle myself just to save everyone else from it.
In other news, I found this gorgeous feather outside of work today. 
I don’t know diddly squat about birds, so I haven’t the foggiest what it could belong to other than “bird”.
Anyway. I’m going to try to sleep at least a little. Or just stare at the inside of my eyelids until my alarm goes off.
Days Alive: 12,142.
Pain Number: 4
Hours Slept: 4
Number of unnecessary notebooks purchased today: 1
Chicken nuggets eaten: 19 (I dropped one.)
Days Since Diagnosis: 0
I’m not doing great today. I’m not cheerful. I’m not well rested or ecstatic to be alive.
I got a diagnosis today that I hate. Not cancer. I guess I can be glad about that. And it’s likely the answer to the issues I’ve been having since I have been old enough to know I’ve had problems. Finally having a name possible name for the jabberwocky on my back is an interesting sensation.
Postmark Wonderland 