torturing myself with cereal

The tremors are kind of awful today. So what am I attempting to feed myself? Cereal with milk. Because I mostly can. And I’m wearing a white shirt, so it’s all good.

Lancelot were out to eat one night, can’t recall when, and I was having so much trouble feeding myself that when we got home I cried all over him. I’m not sure if people realize that there’s more to mental illness than medicine and therapy regimes. The side effects are sometimes the worst.

Granted, this is more of a  nuisance than anything, but still. Not being able to get food to your mouth, or hold and drink out of a cup using just one hand and no straw, are thing most people take for granted. How about being able to sleep without taking 19 pills?

Sorry, I digress. The pity party is hereby over. You don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here.

L and I went out with my oldest and dearest friend on Friday night and it was wonderful. I needed the boost that one only gets from someone you’ve known and loved like that for more than 20 years. And she texted me afterwards that L meets with her approval. Yay!

Today is the first day of our semester here. In spite of the fact that I did not feel so swell yesterday I managed to get three lunches made, all of the laundry washed, dried, and put away, and clothes for the coming week laid out. I feel pretty fucking proud of that.

Gratuitous sleepy puppy bum

2 thoughts on “torturing myself with cereal”

  1. Mental illness is like dragging around an invisible ball and chain that you just can’t shake. It affects every area of your life and even though the meds help some parts, they make a mess of the others. No one can see what you are suffering from so they assume you are just acting out. I’m sorry anyone has to deal with it. I know way too many that are. Glad you are not giving in to it.

    Liked by 1 person

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