I had one hell of a time sleeping last night. My bed is taken by our guest here and there are no others, so I opted for the couch in the basement. The night before it worked well, but last night was different. I felt very paranoid and vulnerable out there, just feet away from the back door at the bottom of the cement stairs where Sam Adams and I had our rendezvous. I sat up, dizzy, and jogged down the hall to my stepsister's bedroom, opening the door with ease and climbing into bed beside her. She breathed warmly and steadily, and my back was against her gurgling stomach. Apparently she woke up at one point and poked me hard, but the Klonopin turns me to inhuman stone when I sleep.
This morning I got up, put on a semi-happy face, and pranced around sarcastically, a gentle cynic in the midst of booming Christmas music that refused to abate. I got money and a sweater and gift cards. I asked for no presents. Alas, I got some, so I was sincerely grateful/irritated.
So many people crowded my dad's house, what with the Greeks and all. Since I am no longer ingesting lithium, my piano and reading skills have returned from their vacation. That, in turn, was cause for my dad to "suggest" that I play some songs on the piano, which I did roughly but well enough that he cried as always. I even got a quarter glass of red wine for my compliance, which I savored and kept craving long after I had downed it. Why alcohol? What is it about that stuff that pulls out its hands and grabs my arms as my feet slide on the wood floor to the liquor cabinet? It is inanimate, yet it's so brilliantly alive with personality and vibrance.
All in all uneventful day. I'm getting manic. Perhaps hypomanic. I have the urge to grab someone and kiss them until neither of us can breathe. That's not good when there's no male around and all I have is my imagination that cackles and hisses and mocks. My imagination, winding around in circles and confusing the hell out of me. It has a magic wand that can make things seem real, then so unreal I want to run and hide in a closet with a lot of coats.
Speaking of coats, it's terribly cold in this house and my toes have turned into tiny ice cream chunks.