Yesterday and today, my whole life is defined by medication changes. It’s all-consuming. I step back and look at myself in surprise, noticing

  • I sleep in 15 minute increments, then wake up
  • I can’t stop trembling or twitching, and it’s much worse in bed, when my muscles are more relaxed
  • I’m cold, no, wait, I’m hot, no, I’m freezing cold; I’m sweating a lot
  • The right side of my skull feels as though it’s being crushed
  • I can’t concentrate
  • I have somewhat more energy even though I’m tired
  • I don’t feel depressed

It’s bizarre. It’s hard, but the fact that my mood is lighter gives me hope. The trembling is so bad that I can hardly type. But underneath all strangeness, there is that sense that I might be okay emotionally, and I’m grasping at that, reaching to pull it through my foggy brain and tuck it securely into my heart.