Okay, it has been a few weeks and I actually have something semi-substantial to report.

I have stopped taking my medication. I am on day 6 and I am probably the biggest fucking idiot ever.

I told my mom I would restart last night, but I didn’t.

Let’s bring it back. The last couple of weeks I had been back in Kansas. This was a very hectic time for everyone involved. We had plans, we had a baby born to the family, I was sick literally the whole time I was there… lots of other shit to worry about.

But I did well. I took my calories along with my medicine as per usual.

And then it started with a party in which I said I wasn’t going to drink but it was a party thrown for me so I was totally going to drink. Alcohol + medication= bad, apparently. I’d left them at my mom’s that night so I wasn’t too worried about it.

What will one day of missed doses do?

Well, let me tell you. That one night ruined my routine. The next night, I didn’t take them. The next 3 days we were on the road back to Cali, I didn’t take them. Last night, my first normal night in weeks, I didn’t take them. I broke a habit in one night.

Then I started drinking again. I drink very rarely due to many nights of complete blackouts. But I have had a drink at least every other night since I stopped medicating.

Sure it is easy to say, ‘just take them, Courtney.” But I have always struggled with medication. I hate popping pills. And that one night of missed doses forced me to remember the freedom associated with irresponsibility.

And the creativity. Seriously. In the six days that I had stopped, I began writing. More and more. Better and better. Relevantly.

Which has to be the reason I am so subconsciously against my medication. This is my career and I struggle with it while I am busy popping pills to regulate my chemical imbalances.

So what do I do? Tell my psych that I feel so much better without them?

Because that is not the case. I don’t feel better. I feel worse. But it is fueling my work in ways I so desperately need.

I feel like my work is so much more important than my mental health at this point. I am publishing my first book in October so I am kind of on a deadline.

I don’t see my psych for another week or so and I am at the point that I really don’t want to see her at all anymore.

What do I do? How do I maintain a balance?

I guess we will find out. Until next time.

We can figure it out together.