Sunday

In the last few months I have learned something about Sunday...it's almost always the worst day of my week. No matter what I do or don't do, how planned or unplanned it was, how happy or sad I was during the week, it is nearly always a horrible day. And even when it's not a horrible day, there are at least horrible hours within the day. I have yet to figure out why it's such a bad day for me.

Thursday I got my med change. I think I mentioned that in a previous post. Friday and Saturday I had a little hope of feeling better, but I wasn't quite feeling as good as I wanted to. Still some depression and hopelessness, though not as bad as it was before. Plus, it was a long weekend. Ever since I've been in school I've cherished long weekends, so there was that to look forward to.

Then Sunday came. Oh Sunday, what am I going to do with you? You know what? It wasn't as bad this week as it usually is. Yay! By Monday I was really starting to feel better, with fleeting moments of residual depression.

Here's what I've noticed about my med change:
1. My outlook has improved
2. My mood has improved
3. My appetite is no longer insatiable and out of control
4. I don't feel the need for 12+ hours of sleep per night
5. My anxiety is doing a little better

Two things I'm hoping for with this med change:
1. Things will only get better from here and it'll stick
2. I won't be thrown into a manic episode

I was a little worried about the manic episode thing this weekend as I had a few moments of overwhelming good-feelings. But I'm feeling pretty calm, pretty relaxed, pretty content and not agitated, hyperactive, indestructible, or any of the other scary manic feelings.

Here's hoping!