Well, I've been officially discharged from Home Treatment and so far I'm none the worse for it. Still in pjs, however, but that's a career choice, not from depression. The dishwasher is on and I have to do the washing, but I might do that tomorrow. Just had a smoked salmon sandwich for lunch - sadly, no lemons with it. I've a massive tidy up to do now that I'm better - the kitchen table and the study are in a right state and I've got people staying next weekend.
I can't believe how fortunate I am to be better - that Black Dog is a bastard and should be shot. The trouble with being bipolar is that you absolutely know it will happen again sometime - maybe soon, maybe later, and the pills won't stop it. There's usually no rhyme or reason to the episodes, although I'd been doing too much before this one. Stress is a trigger as well. I used to wade through stress as though it didn't exist, but I can't do that nowadays.
I'm off to unstack the dishwasher.
I spent 16 years in the RAF defending the Free World , then got bunged out unceremoniously for being bipolar. I and was subsequently diagnosed with PTSD. Funny old world, isn't it?