I’m currently not on any medication, as the paroxetine has to be cleared from my system before I can start my citalopram.

This means that I am mentally all over the place, have been severely cutting myself and was closer to committing suicide than I have been for a very, very long time. I was up one night nursing my new prescription, and considering taking it all at once just to make this endless emotional pain stop.

There is no logical reason to feel like this, but I do. It’s a horrible reality I have to face – I will be spending the rest of my life trying not to kill myself. And that’s okay. This is who and what I am.  Life is a rich tapestry, and I am one of the frayed,  black threads.

This is an upbeat post. I survived. This is thanks to my loving partner Stephen, my soul-loaf Rob and my ever-practical sister Lesley. I can’t thank any of them enough. Without them, I wouldn’t be here. I need constant help carrying my burden, and these guys are rock solid.

I may be incomplete, but I am all the person I need to be – because I have such wonderful people picking up my fragmented being.

* * *

After surviving my weekend in hell, I discovered that the wonderful Karen at Luciole Press has decided to republish my article on manic depression in the Spring/Summer 09 edition. I am still amazed at all of the feedback I received from that essay.

I am still looking for another publisher. Perhaps it is just my vanity speaking, but I really want to see the article put to use. Preferably in hard copy.

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