Christmas 2023—which direction do I go?

It has been so long since I have written a blog entry. Too long! And it has been a bit of time now that I feel the fire of paranoia and the choking of my mood blast through me. Treated, watched with care, quiet.

I’ve been floating lately. My mood seems good, buoyed by the three antidepressants I take every night. Any hints of paranoia whisked away by the three antipsychotics that are firmly in the mix.

But right now, today, where would I be? Where would I be if I didn’t have those six medications? Would my mood drop, and how quickly, how far? Would my voices rise up and never let me be? Would they comment on every action, alert me to every person holding special radios in their hands?

Because, actually, to be honest with you, I don’t feel so great. I feel an itching in my skin that tells me that if it could, my mood would get me. It tells me that accurately read, I would score well in the depression quiz. And the voices: maybe they are there right now, but they are smothered in such an unpleasant fashion. Are they yearning to come out? Would it come down to one missed dose to bring me down in a stew of paranoia?

Christmas Eve is tomorrow, and I am not very steady. I look forward to the gin and the mulled red wine that help me get through the visits and the visiting. And how I look forward to being with all these friends and relatives, to turning my nose at the German herring salad as a matter of principle?! It is such a pleasure, to be with all these people, to enjoy the rituals that fill the week to come. Why mess it up?

Will my drugs hold me? The feelings running so close to my skin, one cut and it would be difficult to stop the flow. Is it down to that?

Nice and steady. Merry Christmas everyone.