Back on my meds.
Back in therapy.
Back to the isolation that I tried to escape.
My experiment with life off meds has ended. I guess I just have to accept the fact that I need them. I think one can only fake a personality for so long. I imagine that accounts for how tired I always feel. It is exhausting trying to be be a version of yourself. I’d compare it to an attempt at standing on tiptoes for extended periods of time. It’s still you, just a different version…one which is virtually impossible to maintain for any significant amount of time. It’s fun to try on here and there, but living like that just isn’t feasible.
So now I’m back to my regular height and trying to get used to being small again.
I’ll pop these pills, and talk to this therapist and hope for the best.