matilda36

I am not feeling well.

It started last week, when I had an adverse reaction to chocolate, but it got worse this week.

On thursday I went to work and I was silent, yesterday I went to work and I was angry. I have been a bit confused most of the week, with OCD like symptoms (I have this irrational urge to count things. It's not a compulsion like in full blown OCD, just an urge for the moment) I had a near meltdown while trying to help Jake with his fic. I know the idea of writing always makes me panic but this was something worse than that.

I am a bit worried. It's the first time since I started working there that I am not well. I am content with my life. I am getting all the rest I need. I am off sugar and coffee and while I have been enjoying a glass of wine only in my not working days, I'll avoid even that. I am even trying to eat more healthily and exercise a bit.

I am taking care of myself. So why now? Why risk everything I hold dear? Well because I have a fucking mental illness that's why. One that doesn't care about me. One that has fun playing with my brain's chemistry and leaving my life in tatters.

Time for some countermeasures. Now if only I can think of what those countermeasures should be...