Like I said

Some days are better than others. I don't want to unnerve you, but I do want to talk honestly about what the bad days are like.

Some days I just feel like staying in bed all day. Some days I feel like a circuit that is having more voltage than it's equipped to handle run through it. Some days I feel like shedding myself and getting on a plane and starting all over somewhere I've never been, where nobody knows me. Some days I throw up part of my breakfast into the sink. (Gross, I know, but true. And then I have to worry if this means I've thrown up the Prozac, and if then it'll take that much longer for it to start working.) Some days I just want to drive somewhere with an ocean and float in it and stare at the stars and let myself return to a womblike state of innocent strength. Some days my thoughts chase themselves around inside my head in an ever-tightening circle of grief and hopelessness. Some days I understand exactly why despair is a sin.