It hurts when I sleep

This week has been rough emotionally, as it feels like I was teased with a healthy brain and then it was promptly taken away again. It is so painful to have to feel like that, especially after having just climbed out of a very long severe depression. I would say it’s unfair, but who ever promised fairness?

The only respite I’ve had throughout this seemingly very long week had been during my period of sleep deprivation the other day. I hesitate to call it hypomanic; I just haven’t had certain needs met since late February. Needs that, whether I like it or not, I cannot meet with a battery operated device.


Even though I was deprived of sleep, I felt busy, busy enough up there in my brain that there was no room for a depressive state, busy enough that there were levees keeping the depressive waters from flooding in and drowning me.

And then I slept again. And I kept sleeping. And now I’m back on the battlefield again, fighting this sleep disorder that, at least for the time being (and that, that hope that I hold onto, the passing of time), does not nourish my fragile, recovering brain.

In the meantime, I lay on my back on the oceanic waves while my body gets used to the medication.

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