And so after three days, the crash.

It started late last night with a quasi-dissociative episode, feeling abstracted and outside of myself. I had another of those dreams that I just know if I weren't on the meds would've been an awful nightmare. There's something off about those dreams. Even with the meds, there's a flavor of just teetering on the brink of a horrible black pit. I will never ever stop taking this medication. There is no way I am going back to that place.

Now I'm sunk in depression. Thanks to Patrick and all he's done to give me a stable existence and constant love source, I'm not in any danger of self-harming or killing myself, but the urges are always there when you're feeling really low. Mostly I just want to curl up in a ball under the covers and cry.

It's okay though, this will pass. I'm grateful for everything I have, and I just have to stick this out until it goes away again. It always does. Thank you all for being the wonderful people you are. I love you.