Day: 34

my thoughts below are just that, my thoughts and observations, and as such, as all thoughts and observations, represent only a part of the whole and when dealing in parts, one can be mislead as to think the part is the whole or even that the part is the majority--I write what I write without filter, without edit, in order to document--some of what I document is insignificant, but it is impossible to tell in the moment without the benefit of time to judge what is important and what is simply a passing mood state, normal as sunshine--what is written below is my thinking out loud, of trying to capture, as it happens, various mental states that may or may not be related to the meds--but all the same, for the sake of completeness, to the best of my ability, to capture, to document, to amass all data without critical or editorial influence--having said that, as of this morning, I feel as I have the last few days, which is to say perfectly normal with an expanding emotional range, which is both pleasing (a return to my old self) and a concern (a return to my old self)


odd and interesting start--I don't know how to describe what is occurring--there are very discrete, and short-lived, moments, these moments appear as an image in my mind and a hollowness in my chest, which I can only describe as staring into the abyss, of being on the edge of darkness as on the edge of a cliff, at night, wind blowing, everything shades of blue and there is a very real sense of being one step away, one step from the ravine, and there is swirling and my hair is longer than before, like a flag in the wind, pulled forward and I am wearing a greatcoat and it too is flapping in the wind, toward the edge, toward the bottomless ravine--these moments, and they are just moments, perhaps less than a second maybe a little longer, are as clear as memory of yesterday--when these moments occur, when the images appear in my mind, there is nothing else and the feeling is the same as when caught timeless within a movie, completely suspended from time as we know it, absorbed completely, in every literal sense--these moments are more lucid than a dream state, even more alive than just a memory although I am not sure exactly what that means other than to say, these moments, these images, experiences, are beyond the clarity of normal thought, as if something more than just thought

the second odd occurrence, and I wonder if this is not somehow related to the above, there seems to be some overlap--and the feeling is as a car that is starting and stopping--running perfectly fine one moment and then coughing and hiccuping the next, or simply dying, the engine cutting off unexpectedly, just dead, and there is an eerie quiet in the stillness, as when coasting or gliding--what I am referring to here, again, are very discrete moments, but so unlike anything I've ever, at anytime, experienced, as to be notable and noticed, to have turned down a street I've never been down before--I'm beating around the bush, no pun intended--the fact of the matter is, for the first time ever, a sexual thought occurs without any corresponding physical reaction and the only way I can describe it is the way music over the first thirty days simply fell flat, no emotional response whatsoever, rendered, it seemed, as if I was completely tone deaf--and in this way, these very discrete, very short-lived moments exist and I note them only by contrast, by contrast of all my life--and to note this change, or this event, events, after coming off the last thirty days, is frightening--not panic inducing, but as if hearing a siren, a tornado siren, wailing and one becomes alert, sober, concerned and there is that interminable plaintive wailing and the uncertainty of what is to come, if anything is to come at all, and there is nothing but the waiting and watching and listening as the wind picks up and the skies darken and trees moan, scratching against the house

the third event of note: sensation on the crown of my head--last night, waking as I did with restless dogs, slipping back into sleep, the sensation was more acute than at anytime since the very first night and the sensation felt more elongated than circular, more like a knife edge than dull pressure, more like fire than ice, as if the top of my head were about to erupt, as if lava flowed under my scalp--the sensation remains today, more acute than before, less benign or so it seems--a constant companion