I should rename this blog “Sleepy Meow.” Again, another night without sleep. I woke at 1:30 and went to lay down on the futon in the front room. And I stayed awake for most of the night. I am guessing I got 3-4 hours again. This is going to kill me. Usually when I have insomnia, I crash hard the next day. I honestly haven’t gotten a solid 8 hours since I went on these meds. I am stitching together spots of rest between suddenly waking. Sometimes there is a reason, but more often there’s not. And all of the promises I made to myself this week, the research and exercise, have been broken. All I want right now is a frickin nap. And I won’t get that today because I have my first day of class.

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(four hours later)
I am awake now. I woke because I was sitting in the Dr.’s office, watching people line up for their meds and getting antsy when it takes too long. It did take too long today. My appointment was at 10. She didn’t get to me until 11:45. Surprisingly, I have patience with that kind of thing. After talking things over with her we are going to try a new approach. I am adding to my cocktail of meds. I  need something to bring me down from hypomania (which is why I haven’t slept this week) but not something I have to take all the time. It’s a game with my brain, but I don’t think I am losing anymore. She’s understanding about my fear of weight gain and some of the less happy side effects. So I get to play with the chemicals in my brain, yet again, and see if we can find something that sticks. If not, I am thinking about just exchaging my brain for a jar of pickles.

Tonight is my first night of my last summer class. There’s something surreal about it. I started, way back when, with Leslie Boles’s Intro to Art class, and I am going to end with her husband’s Films of the 80’s class. It’s a nice thought. I started 4 summers ago. This is my last summer (I graduate in December). It has a bittersweet taste to it.

Although I started the day in a slump, I am feeling better now. Think it was my veggie buffalo wings and iced tea. Or, maybe it was yet another mood swing, but I won’t analyze it to death. Instead, I will just sit here happily listening to DJ Krush.