Yesterday wasn’t the best of days; I slept like ten hours (which for me is a not-good sign) and then felt exhausted for most of the day, as if I hadn’t slept at all, and multiple cups of coffee (and a caffeine pill) didn’t seem to help at all.

I also ran 4.6 miles. Yeah, and had I known it was 4.6 miles, I would have stayed out longer to make it an even 5.0. And then I stayed up for like five more hours, because night runs are way too exhilarating for their own good. Oh well. Guess I wasn’t actually tired after all, just more jerkbrain lies.

Trying to train myself out of saying “I can’t” again; as far as I’m concerned, if my brain can lie about anything, it means I pretty much have to test everything empirically, just in case. And no matter what it says, I’m never too tired to run, apparently.


Monday Miscellaneous

In the line of wtf no really, here’s a quill that writes with blood

There’s something creepily fascinating about this pen: maybe its the jaunty feather attached at the end, or those plastic mechanics squeezing blood out of the syringe onto the nib.

Fascinating and disturbing.

On serotonin…

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Lithium Update

I appear to be one of the lucky group who’s ~side effect free from lithium. I’m on a fairly low does (900mg/day), but the only (only!) things that have been happening have roughly been:

  • If I let myself get dehydrated (shockingly easy, this is better phrased as “If I drink less than 1.5L of water a day”) I will get some combination of: lithium aftertaste, nausea, and mild headache. Not really much of a problem, since drinking water pretty much prevents this.
  • Hunger has been doing weird patterns; I’m either hungry all day, no matter how much (or little) I eat, or not hungry at all (which is my normal state, afaik). I’m doing worse at remembering to eat than I usually do, which isn’t particularly great. Not sure why this is a thing again, though.
  • My memory is ~useless. Go figure. It’s like my brain just gets stuck in places where it shouldn’t. I completely forgot my own phone number today at CVS and nearly told them my phone number was 617-253-…. (ie, an MIT phone number.) Oops. Then had to look my actual phone number up. I’ve been worse at spelling things correctly, worse at thinking, worse at remembering words in general. Slightly scary, actually. Possibly part of the reason why I haven’t been blogging lately; words don’t come to me the way they used too.

And as for how much it’s working…sort of. It takes the edges off, I’d say. Like if I was at 4sin(5t) earlier, I’m around 3sin(t) now. Better, not perfect, but to a point where I can manage the rest. It’s amusing because I’m now back to cycling slowly enough that you can see the cycles in my sleep again – ie they’re longer than a day.

That said, I’m….not really okay with staying on lithium forever; I’m twenty, so fairly young, so I’d rather explore, let’s say, medications that are less toxic to the kidneys long term. Managed to talk pdoc into letting me see if a switch to Lamictal works. Hopefully it does 😀


There are three types of mental illness: the type that can be controlled without medication, the type that can only be controlled with medication, and the type that can’t be controlled at all.

And the only thing you can do is hope you’re in the first category, accept it if you’re in the second, and do your best to survive if you’re in the third.

Emacs M-x spook: Kh-11 ICE Belknap World Trade Center virus fundamentalist BLU-97 A/B cybercash underground pink noise Kosovo sweep Rumsfeld Medco Skipjack

National coffee day!

Caffeine, my antidrug....wait...what?

Caffeine, my antidrug….wait…what?

I just got informed it’s apparently national coffee day.

[Of course, it’s the day I forget my coffee at home so I can’t enjoy some. *facepalm*]


Back last summer, I was pretty much consuming between 1 to 2 grams of caffeine a day (approximately equivalent to ten to twenty cups of coffee), an insane amount by basically any metric.

And I won’t defend it as a good idea, but it did keep me alive at the time.

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[TW: Explicit suicidal ideation, explicit discussion of methods of suicide]

The dreams lately are fairly nonsensical. I’d never knife myself in reality.

Or at least, I don’t think I would.

But it’s these images that are filling my dreams lately, more often than they used to. Dreaming of feeling a long, thin, slick blade sliding between my ribs, going through my lungs, my heart. This should hurt, yet, in my dreams, it never does.

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