I had nightmares last night and this afternoon, Claire woke up early from her nap and yelled at me for several hours. This wasn’t as bad as it would have been before the advent of my wonder drugs, levothyroxine and sertraline; I confined myself to remarking that she was hurting my ears. Eventually I bought her off with some Kettle Chips and an episode of Teletubbies. After she’d calmed down we had a bath and she washed my hair: “WASH. MUMMY. AIR.”

It’s amazing the extent to which my metabolism has just calmed the heck down. These days I tend to have appropriate, proportional responses to things. My car got broken into, and I was bummed about the expense, and relieved that the car itself wasn’t stolen, and I had the window replaced and then I forgot about it. It’s fairly safe to say I won’t be having nightmares about that in three years’ time.

Looking back I can appreciate how utterly batshit crazy I was before I went on the meds, and how excellent my friends are who put up with me all this time. Champagne and/or Martinelli’s Sparkling Apple Cider for all!

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