THE WORLD is icy cold and snowy and my heart feels cold as midwinter London. All the excitement (over nothing) of the past few weeks has gone and now I'm feeling gloomy and down. And tired, and achey. And I've been making up for lost sleep ~ snoozing round the clock, rather than spending a day and a half or so up, then going to bed and STILL not really wanting to sleep. I'm fed up of feeling like a road accident. Some days I went to bed feeling like I'd been dragged through a hedge backwards and was covered in scratches. No pleasant drowsiness at all. Just a feeling that I'd totally overdone it, and now I was ill.
These days, when I have been felt "high", I have avoided moving around too much or pacing, because that makes me exhausted and the whole process worsens. You know a lot of people feel there is nothing wrong with me and, in a way, so do I.
Looking back, apart from wanting to know the name of whatever it was that had been bugging me for years, the One Reason I every chased a diagnosis was that I was so fed up of having to deal with the consequences of SOMETHING, which was far in excess of ordinary drug-addiction (I'm the only person I know who ever let my benefits which could pay for drugs RUN OUT ~ not once, but twice ~ because I felt too depressed and unworthy to claim them)... My life in a mess. Bills not paid, debts not sorted out. Most other drug-addicts I know were like this to an extent. But in me, things reached an extreme. I don't know what it's called except DAMN LAZINESS. Then I find out Laziness is actually a symptom! And so I find I've got my "Excuse". Except that psychiatric labels excuse nothing. I still have to cope with life and I'm still not coping. I don't think that I will ever be OK.
All in all I can't wait till this is over ...