I'm feeling a little better.  A week ago Sunday I woke up and felt a tad lighter.  Last week I didn't have to talk myself out of calling in sick to work.  I ran some errands and didn't force myself in and out of the truck.  I caught up on a few things at home.  I smiled and laughed.  I lingered a little at meeting instead of bolting for the door as soon as they said Amen.

Every day isn't a good one though.  On Thursday I slept until 11.  I went to the butcher to pick up a quarter of a cow that we bought.  I came home and went back to bed.  I slept until 2:30.  I picked up Micah from school.  And came home and went to bed until 5:00.  Then proceeded to sleep the whole night through.

I was dragging on Friday.

But then Saturday and Sunday were fairly good days.

Today was better then most I've had in months.

 It comes in waves.  I will be feeling light and airy one hour and the next I want to hide and never see anyone again ever.  My mind races from I'm a horrible rotten person to I have some good stuff inside of me.

So I guess that is progress.  Because at least there are some positive feelings during the day.  And I tell you what, it has been so long since I felt normal that when I feel good it is almost euphoric. Even if it's only for a hour.   It's like  a high.  I want to hurry and get things done and enjoy every single second.  I want to soak in that good feeling into my bones.  I wish I could store it up and use it sparingly.  Spread it out a little.  Conserve it for the days that I'm really busy and need the energy.

I cannot even imagine feeling good everyday, all day.  Would I take it for granted after awhile?  I don't think so.

Try me.  Please.  

I'm keeping my appointment with the nurse at the psychiatric office.  I still think my meds need tweaking.

So I am hanging on.  Hoping for more good days then bad.  I pray every night that the next morning I'll feel OK.  That maybe this will last for awhile.

I am holding my breath.