I have a sneaking suspicion that after 3 weeks of being utterly depressed, I am flipping into a manic bit.
I did 60 lengths at the swimming pool tonight and still don't feel tired. I also keep seeing things running across the carpet and unless we have a sudden infestation of mice or spiders, I doubt they're there. I could call the crisis team, but I've lent on them quite a bit in the last few days and would feel weird saying "hi, you know I was depressed, well now I can't sleep and feel like I could go out and run a half marathon."
I did get some zopiclone off the psych, but they gave me an utterly vile taste in my mouth and I really don't want to take it. I'm taking everything else as I should be.
I want to go and catch a train to somewhere exciting and go and do things. I keep on thinking it would be a good idea to get a train to the nearest city and go shopping. This would not be a good idea.
Aaaah Fuck this stupid fucking illness and the horse it rode in on.