ducksarecrazy

I won't jinx anything just yet, but today was pleasant. I've had a solid week of some anxiety and panic attacks on top of a serious bout of depression and what was uncomfortably (to say the least) close to a psychotic break. Such fun times that aside from work (an exercise in people avoidance) I stayed in my apartment the whole time, self-quarentined, aside from a two trips for cigarettes.

But right now I feel coherent, I seem able to type more than dozen words clearly, and the people outside being too loud for a Wednesday at midnight are not in danger of being pelted with kitchen utensils.
I had a very long, very good conversation with the SO, which was a huge help. I had dinner with my parents. I actually managed to mail bills properly, with the checks enclosed. At no point today did I feel a compulsion to curl into a ball on the couch, or the bed, or under the desk, or hurt myself with sharp objects, or drink until I passed out for a lack of other options.

I functioned like a normal fucking human being, and it feels like a blessing.

Mental illness: NOT FOR PUSSIES.