To feel like I belong would be nice. To feel like I'm wanted, divine!
I saw my T this week. I spilled everything I could then asked, "what to do about it, or what?"
His advice was fairly simple, "stay the course and try to maintain. Watch yourself, be careful."
I don't have a problem talking to most people. There are a few I can't stop listening to, so I'll nudge her to talk more, but I've noticed aloof is very effective with this one, so I'm playing that role for now.
I'm actually a lot more open than I used to be.
My ex tried to bait me on a social site. Eff that. Not looking.
I wrote this morning like a madman, which is appropriate because I started a play/book about life, love, mental illness and physical illness and all the pains in them all. I got about 1500 words in under an hour before I realized I hadn't taken meds. I took them, and poof! The spark was gone 15 minutes later. I don't think it's safe for me to know that my creativity is being so much dulled by meds. I'll not stop taking them. I wonder what else is being blocked by meds?