(Or: At Home – Day Fifty-Seven)
I’m losing time. Just little things, little bits, but I can feel it. It’s usually the harbinger of worse things to come, but I’m going to remain optimistic because why the fuck not. Maybe I’ll be okay. Just a few days of weirdness and I’ll return back to normal. My mental health re-stabilises and I become a fully-functional human.
Or, you know, a few weeks pass and I wind up back in acute inpatient.