From Carla

I felt like I went through today with glass eyes, barely participating in anything. I even laid down on my futon and slept there in my clothes for two hours without moving. Clouds came by but never got around to raining, and I went on my bicycle down the street only for a few minutes. I’m not sure how comfortable I am talking like this but I think I’m feeling like this – listless, walled-in spectator – because of my anti-anxiety medication. I take it so rarely now that I forget what it feels like. Granted, I was able to function, lead, laugh and coach instead of being a quivering mass of nerves like last week. But at what cost does this functionality bring. It isn’t that I don’t feel like me, its that I don’t feel like I’m here. I’m not sure I feel like writing either, but I’m doing it just the same. I think you can tell that my brain isn’t working the same way. The imagery is missing, my sentences are shorter. Everything comes out so literally. I am fortunate not to need these meds often, because I feel I would never be able to get through the rest of my life if I did.