The Bloody Doors Off

Last night got kinda dark.

Harold came for a visit.

Normally when he drops by, I get a very strong feeling of despair. Last night I felt. Nothing.

Which I’m gonna say is worse.

Obviously, it didn’t last. Never does. And I’m able to recognize it, even when I’m dancing on the serrated edge.

This morning fared better than earlier in the week.

Harold was gone, for one. And I wasn’t stuck. The past few days, I’ve had moments where I’ve felt paralyzed, standing/sitting in place, desperately willing myself to move.

I’m beginning to think it’s the lithium.

There’s one way to be sure. But I can’t just stop taking the medication.

Gotta consult with my psychiatrist first.

It’s after-hours on Friday.

Which means I wait until Monday.

And keep track of any further episodes.