Hiccuping along

I forgot to take my medication the other day.

I felt fine throughout the morning but in the afternoon I felt tearful and when I tried to shake it off it wouldn't shake, it just slipped and sat in my stomach like a lump of lead. I was talking with my aunt and I was pleased by what she was saying but when I tried to smile it felt like my face was contorting. I went to my bedroom and saw my pill box (one of those ones old grannies have with the days of the week and compartments for morning and night) and I couldn't remember touching it that morning. I looked through the little blue plastic window and sure enough there were my pills, the things that stand between functional me and a quivering mess.

The next day was still average, the half life of all those psychotropic little circles having expired with my skipped dose. At least I knew what the problem was. But it was sad to get a glimpse of what my unmedicated self is like right now. I'm fiercely independent so the acknowledgement of my dependence on drugs, albeit legal ones, made me a little flatter than my already flat self.

I also haven't been sleeping all that well the past few nights. I lie awake ruminating about my trip and that somehow leads to ponderings on ex-boyfriends and the scenarios surrounding how they became ex, deep thoughts on whether I will ever finish my uni degree and last night, the mystery of which Gilbert and Sullivan musical the song 'Modern Major General' is from (at 1am I caved and googled it - it's the Pirates of Penzance. Of course.)

I've also been waking during the night, sometimes too hot, sometimes too cold and last night from a nightmare that my Mum had been diagnosed with cancer. She's been in hospital for a few days with a mysterious GI infection and while she, my Dad and all of her doctors had been reassuring that it wasn't anything serious, it was obviously weighing on my mind.

The good news is that she's out of hospital now and she and my Dad have gone down to our beach house. I'm joining them on Friday evening and it's honestly been one of the things that has been dragging me through the week. I'm looking forward to lounging in my pyjamas, doing jigsaw puzzles, reading a book (I'm without a current book! I finished the one I was reading, A.M. Homes' May We Be Forgiven, and it was brilliant. I've got this book hangover now where I'm still in the world of my last book but also fearful that the next one will not be as good) and I'm also looking forward to eating fish and chips. I suppose I could go to the beach too. It's not really my thing though. Too much sand.

Not everything has been bad this week, but nothing has been particularly good or noteworthy either. I'm still liking work, my psychologist is back from holidays, I made a good laksa for dinner tonight. I'm just getting along with these little hiccups.

I'm hoping that things will smooth out a bit over the next few weeks as I'd hate to fly off to the U.S. feeling unsettled. I've almost done all the possible planning I can do for my trip too so it's just a matter of waiting for it to roll around now.

Anyway, sleep now and in the morning I must remember my medication. Goodnight.