Yesterday was my birthday, & due to a history of individuals ruining MY day & having to plan everything myself, I don't particularly care for birthdays. Yesterday was only slightly different, because I had been running out of meds (over the weekend I couldn't get a refill). It was surprising how quickly my thoughts reverted to their old ways. One minute I would think, "I hate birthdays because no one thinks about me...I work really hard to make everything special for others, yet I get nothing!" then the next minute, "It's not so bad. I'll just do things for myself." It gets really tiring from being ok one minute & wanting to cry the next; an obvious reminder of why you should not stop taking meds just because you don't remember what the worst moments were like.
On the upside, a friend that I've known since 2nd grade sent me flowers in the cutest vase. My husband also made up for not making the time to get me a present earlier by buying me two charms for my bracelet & a new necklace.
During the brief time I couldn't take the right medication I also felt very motivated to write a lot, but I didn't (partly due to lack of time) because I knew where it was coming from. I always feel the most creative when I'm on the top of the curve. But me at my most creative is still not good enough most of the time. I do understand, though, how artists sometimes choose not to seek help....even if I don't agree with it, since it can lead to a world-wide tragedy.
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