Ron skipped his cereal this morning just so I could have the last of the milk. Even when he has to work on Saturday for fifteen hours he thinks first of his little wife who will be home all day having a weekend. That is something I never asked for because I didn't think it was possible, now it's all I can ask for. The most encompassing all I've ever had.
I woke at three in the morning and grabbed my darling legal pad where I wrote a whole page of things that make little sense right now. This whole thing is really weird, I may be the most productive thoughtful sick person on earth. Not thoughtful in a sweet way, thoughtful in the lot's of thoughts way. They race by me, ideas of us moving, I started job hunting online at 6 am. I don't know how to describe it, I think faster than I can think and process, I am jittery, my heart races but there is no happiness, no orgasmic euphoria like webmd says there can be. Damn, I miss out on even the perks of an illness. Back to another pill to settle me down enough so I can function like a human rather than a robot in a marathon. I can't stop. That's the main thing, not even for sleep, not even when I'm exhausted beyond words. I am the non-stop, I don't need to eat even, I just have to keep doing, doing anything, just moving to stop the beating in my head of thoughts like a clanging bell. And this is called a "manic episode" and yet I feel remarkably normal. That word alone "manic" means rubber rooms just because of all the movies I've seen. Now to getting up and vacuuming for I think the third time this week because I have to do something to expel this restless spasmodic energy. Oh Lord, to the dream of feeling better.
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