It wears on you, y'know? The nausea and deep resentment when you pour those five pills of kryptonite into your hand, lift your hand to your mouth...
I'll do a post about the good stuff later - there has been much Good Stuff this weekend, oh yes. And that shouldn't be tainted by this. Is why the separate post.
Monday is my final bump-up on the Trileptal. Thursday I end the Lamictal. Then it's a waiting game.
I try to keep my chin up. I do well. I have really good days... I have lots of days where I'm not even *trying*, where I'm just having a great time.
But twice a day, every day, I have to look at a handful of pills and make the conscious decision to effectively cripple my brain for several hours. Not just baseline-with-the-meds-in-my-system. But really nuke the fuck out of my brain. Twice a day. Every day. I know what it does to me. And I look at that handful of pills. And I swallow them.
Even on the good days. It is never easy.