i've been talking to some friends over the past few days, before i realized how sleep = amnesia and put myself to bed, and they've been calming me down. hoobey tells me that his girlfriend is on the same medication i am on and she experienced the same acclimitization i am. which feels good - to know that i am not alone.
j let me talk. this woman has known me almost half my life and been one of my best friends almost as long. i love her more than i can say, and the fact that she's been reading the blog and then called me to check in means a lot. she also just listened, without interrupting, to my reams of confusion. i wish she wasn't so far away.
wo reassured me that the medication i am on is a doozy - one of the big ones, and it's very difficult, apparently. i don't remember it being so difficult 3 years ago; that's why i jumped on taking it again, but it makes sense: it treats a variety of symptoms from social anxiety to panic to depression, so it's understandable that it would be a transition. she told me to be gentle on myself.
my godmother told me to write on a wall with a tube of lipstick, this too shall pass. and it will.

on a softer note, i love my cat. before i curled into bed last night, i grabbed him from the couch and brought him with me; where to my surprise he settled right in. he either spooned with me or lay by my head all night, and when i woke up intermittently he was always watching me, purring. it's funny because in the book i finished last week for class, oryx and crake, the crakers use a similar purring technique to heal their wounded.
i think atwood might be onto something.