at my worst i spent entire days on the couch. my symptoms so bad I couldn't operate. i didn't want to deal with life, I couldn't. I had to stay half-asleep so I could get through the day. existence was a terrible nightmare. slowly i forced myself to do things with my parents. I saw friends when i could. i held on to some kind of demented hope that things would get better, though often i couldn't see farther than the cushions. so much pain, I recall. so much confusion. unable to call people for fear of talking on the phone! it's a dark place we can go to, but you're going to have to keep going because there is hope for you.

hope is such a stubborn thing to me. even when it seems the world has been lost, and the center has fallen out I continue on. I don't understand it. i don't get how we can continue sometimes, except for that damn stubborn thing that tells me "it'll get better, it's got to, just hold on."

today i can operate fairly normally. there are things i want that i don't have. but i have my stability, today. i don't know where it may go tomorrow. start doing this... see how many days in a row you can put in the plus column. positive days, see how many you can string together. build some momentum.