Steady State? Or...Unicorn?
Ah. The coveted steady state. This is the mode of being towards which all psychopharmaceutical regimens aspire. Or some other phrase, maybe with a dangling preposition.
I've had a couple of good days recently--not that I've been having especially bad days, really,certainly nothing like last month, where a good day meant not fleeing the office in terror. This past Saturday was the first full-on, 12-hour plus stretch I've had of "feeling good" in about a year. Followed up, of course, by two days of crap. But then there were some days where the crap was balanced out by goodness that's had less mania than usual, which is also good.
Today was one of those. I blame the buspirone. It's the newest pharmaceutical mercenary I've sent into the lawless, tangled mess of axons and dendrites I am pleased to call my brain. Seems like it's hooked up with the bupropion, and together they're kicking some serious neurochemical ass.
Details are sketchy, and good information is hard to come by. There are multiple factions, all vying for power, and it's difficult to predict the eventual success or failure of the surge. Thuggish gangs are planting improvised catecholamine devices in calcium channels. Neurons that are cooperating with the reuptake occupation are being kidnapped and turning up dead, floating in the lateral vesicles. All the negative media coverage certainly isn't helping matters. WHY DOES THE MEDIA HATE MY HAPPINESS?
But we will stay the course.
Because if we give up, the neurotransmitters have won.
And we don't want that, now do we?
