It’s 8:30p and I just want to go to bed. That’s me in a nutshell for the last week. Motivation? What’s that? Oh, and food? Gimme!
Yes, my upped-dose meds have kicked in and buddy, it’s a big damn difference. And I am not liking it not one single bit. Not happening. Not going down like this. Done.
I officially dropped my meds back down last night. It will take a week or two to get back to where I was, unfortunately. The hope is that the manic goes out the window with the rest.
I haven’t gained any weight – which truth be told is a miracle because I am constantly starving. Trying to stuff my face with protein and fruit, but I promise I’m only winning half of that battle. I have run or KB all week. Oh I’ve gotten ready, dressed-hair up-but nope. Started a couple of times then just stopped. I don’t have it IN me. So hard to explain. It’s like you’re a walking zombie who’s hungry all of the time.
I was afraid of this exactly. And like I told my BFF tonight-my gut instinct has never, ever been wrong. Proven over and over again, it never fails to be right. Why didn’t I listen this time? I should never have done this. But I thought, it’s for the greater good! Bullshit. I’m still in manic- only now I’m also a cast member for the Walking Dead – with peanut butter on a spoon in my hand!