Mental health
May. 24th, 2013 06:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lykomancerSo the drugs work.
And I mean, they really, really work.
It's strange. There's a small part of me that's actually unsure of how I feel about this change. It's unfamiliar enough that I almost feel like a different me-- I still live in the same place (not for long!) and eat the same food and like the same things...but emotionally, I'm not the same. If I say, "I feel settled, like the storm passed and now I'm in smooth, beautiful tropical waters", that gives the wrong impression because it implies that "I" am actually still the same "I". But that's not right. I feel like that was another life, or another character, or another story. I don't know. It's difficult to explain.
I'm full of restless energy much of the day, chatty and cheerful, humming and giggling. I'm not quite giddy, but damn close. I feel a need to do things-- not in the sense of obligation or the "this HAS to happen" sense, but just because I need something to do. And so I do things. And I don't feel bitchy or grumpy about it; doing stuff doesn't wear me out, or quickly siphon that shallow, murky pool of energy, motivation, and patience dry.
Maybe this is temporary. I don't know.
It's all very strange.
And I mean, they really, really work.
It's strange. There's a small part of me that's actually unsure of how I feel about this change. It's unfamiliar enough that I almost feel like a different me-- I still live in the same place (not for long!) and eat the same food and like the same things...but emotionally, I'm not the same. If I say, "I feel settled, like the storm passed and now I'm in smooth, beautiful tropical waters", that gives the wrong impression because it implies that "I" am actually still the same "I". But that's not right. I feel like that was another life, or another character, or another story. I don't know. It's difficult to explain.
I'm full of restless energy much of the day, chatty and cheerful, humming and giggling. I'm not quite giddy, but damn close. I feel a need to do things-- not in the sense of obligation or the "this HAS to happen" sense, but just because I need something to do. And so I do things. And I don't feel bitchy or grumpy about it; doing stuff doesn't wear me out, or quickly siphon that shallow, murky pool of energy, motivation, and patience dry.
Maybe this is temporary. I don't know.
It's all very strange.
