Today is Monday. I have not taken a photo for #100HappyDays since Friday. Because nothing has made me happy.
I have therefore decided to terminate my participation in the challenge, quite simply because I tried searching for daily happiness, I tried real hard, but it just doesn’t exist where I am at the moment.
I posed the question a few weeks ago: How long can a bipolar sufferer be happy for? It appears that my personal answer is 23 days. Then comes the inevitable crash, the inevitable burn.
I have been being silly with my medication. I have not been eating, so have not been taking my meds in the evening with a meal as I always do. So I’m suffering from medication withdrawal really badly, the shakes, the sweats, the nausea, the unbearable, the unstable. I feel totally messed up. Need to go to the chemist tomorrow and get some more Valium and Lithium cos I’m all out. As of tomorrow, medication resumes its normal course.
I have lost 7lbs in 10 days. I have bitten all of my nails off. I am stressed and tired and anxious.
I do not know what I want.
I am really struggling with my uni work. There is too much to do and not enough time. Not enough words. Not enough energy.
You will have noticed that I haven’t published a poem for over 3 weeks now. That’s because I haven’t written anything. Nothing. Not a single verse. And for that I am sorry.
I cannot write. The words don’t come. Everything has been said. Everything has been done. There is nothing left to write.