The good feelings have slowed considerably. I'm not feeling down, just...worn down. I have lots to do, lots that I've done, and I'm drained.

Mental illness is this incredible burden that so many of us bear, but a burden that is too often invisible or minimized. My coworker would be in her office at 8am prompt, all perky and awake. I'd stagger in at 8:35am and be like "Screw this sh*t- where's the coffee?" I know she looked down upon me for this- the lateness, the slugishness, the inattentiveness. And I began to look down upon me. There was a large part of me that was thinking, "Dude! I'm out of bed! I need some serious brownie points for that. I might be covered in fresh cuts, but dammit, I'm here."

I have come to accept that it is totally true. It's hard to understand when people don't seem to "measure up" somehow and we can't figure out why. My coworker was very judgemental (Faith, when you made the whack-a-mole analogy, she was one of the moles I was fantasizing about whacking. Gently.) and didn't really care that living and breathing could be an effort.

I made it through today. I had extreme urges to restrict, but I didn't. I might not have had everything I needed to, but I know I didn't let Ed in, either. I talked myself down from extreme anxiety. I will do it again tomorrow.

It's an effort. So much of living is an effort. Much of it is worth the effort, however, so I continue to push through. Some days, like today, I just get worn out. Tired.

So instead of rambling on as usual, I'm just going to close with lyrics from a song I've been listening to called "Get Me Through December." It says a lot of how I'm feeling right now. Sad, tired, and determined.

I've been to the mountain left my tracks in the snow
Where souls have been lost and the walking wounded go
I've taken the pain no girl should endure
But faith can move mountains of that I am sure
Faith can move mountains of that I am sure

Get me through December
A promise I'll remember
Just get me through December
So I can start again...