Productive June

Assalamualaikum...

Hello, readers. How're you doing?

June is about to end yet here me writing my first post for this month.

Not actually sure what to write here. Guess, just like usual.

I'm going rant about how my life is going on.

This month is kind of difficult to describe. Many things happened. Maybe? First, about my medication. The pills are reduced from 2 and 1/2 pills to 2 pills. I'm not sure where did she (a doctor but not my usual psychiatrist) got this good idea to reduce my pills. But the last appointment I had, I had been asked to range percentage for my current condition. I actually hate this question. At some point, it made me anxious and this wasn't my first time. So I bluntly put the range - 80%. Hah! How impressive. Actually, I have been less sharing my thoughts and feelings with doctors I met during this pandemic. I just didn't had the courage and strength to be vulnerable. I only answered the basic questions and leaved.

Now, it's already my second week with this reduced medication. Unexpectedly, it seems my brain had reaction to it. During the first week, I experienced my hypomania after long not had one. Like usual, it lasted for 3 days. 3 days passed, I somewhat doing fine. But it only lasted for 2 days because later, mild depression came to me. It only lasted less than 48 hours but the feeling exactly how I used to feel when I was depressed. Almost every 10 to 20 minutes, I would had tears in my eyes. The first night when it hit, I suddenly went berserk with my long lost vulnerability. I texted my best friend who I had long not sharing anything with her. My text started with, A Letter To You.

After long not crying, no mentioned at late night, I wrote my text while crying so hard. I confessed, expressed, and shared whatever I could in my text at that time. My words were a big mess but I sent them anyway. I told her about the bad things I thought and felt as well as the good things that I tried to fight for yet I still could not escape from my own insanity. That night, I had both swollen heart and eyes. I felt pain that had not came for visit too long. The next day, the rest of my tears entertained this visitor. When night went late, only then I felt a little bit recovered.

Until today and now, I think fine is not the wrong word. Just I often running around my own feelings and thoughts in cycles like usual. Sometimes, I'm like that bulb which the light goes bright and dim almost every few minutes. It's worrisome yet still fine. Feeling confused is already my daily anthem. I can sing but not dance to it. I know what's all the mess there but I cannot figure how to tidy up or where to start yet end up feeling overwhelmed. Like right now, just a few seconds ago I took my own words seriously but later all seemed bad excuses I made to myself. Yeah. Just like that bulb I mentioned above.

Look. Know this. Some patients like me, we go up and down drastically. When we try to take it slowly, do it slowly, make it slowly, we still can't escape from the pressure. It's just like that moment we try to move forward while the strong wind is blowing towards us. But for us mental illness patients, this wind could be tornado, typhoon, mix of storm and rain, gloomy sky above with deserted land below, simply anything massive and destructive that to feel safe is like impossible. We're in survival mode, about to make something worthy, but we still feeling our life is at the last edge. The insecurity is too extreme at its maximum. We hate this word but still can't escape from it -- INSANE.

Enough. I make a long long write again.

But it feels good realizing I write this calmly

even though it is not actually match to what's inside.

In short, I'm not ruining the keyboard haha.

Until here, I end this post. See you later.

Take care. bye bye =)