I woke up at 8 this morning, having gone to bed at midnight. Seven and a half to eight hours is just what I need on a normal day, so this was a perfect setup for a good day. Get up, play some idle games, eat some breakfast, and then get in on streaming. Instead, I rolled over and pulled the covers tighter.
I wake up again, look at the wall, and it's 10. In a thought as clear as day I wonder if I took my drugs yesterday. I think that maybe I should get up and check. If I did, I should get up and take today's drugs and start streaming. If I didn't, I really need to get up and take today's drugs as soon as possible. So I should get up.
I wake up and look at the wall. It's noon. The dog feels me stirring and wakes up in a start, jumping off the bed and prancing back and forth. It's been over 12 hours since he's been let out, so obviously he needs to go pee. This is a good thing, as if he didn't it would mean he peed on the floor somewhere. Knowing I need to let him out finally makes me get up.
When I get to my computer I check and, as expected, I forgot to take yesterday's drugs. In retrospect my question at 10, while a good one, could never have a positive outcome. Any world in which I forgot to take my drugs is one where I'm not going to get up and check. My brain on paroxetine withdrawal is simply never going to get out of bed to check on anything. I'm too lethargic, and the dreams are too interesting, to ever expect I'll voluntarily choose to get out of bed.
So now, instead of a good day of streaming to follow up on yesterday's good day of streaming, it's midnight again and I haven't done a darned thing all day. I'm exhausted, and have been all day, and if it wasn't for being alone with the dog I probably wouldn't have gotten up at all. What was looking like a good sleep schedule is probably screwed.
I hate my brain is what I'm trying to say. Stupid brain, needing drugs. Stupid brain, forgetting to take the drugs. Stupid brain, being really stupid as a result.
