It hovers just outside my peripheral vision. It taps on the door, wants me to let it inside.
Two weeks ago, I would have already crashed by now. I can recognize the signs. The pressure in my head, the urge to just cry, to hide, the apathy, the anhedonia.
SSRIs must be working, because I don't seem to be crashing. I haven't gotten all that much done tonight — but after almost a week of solid all-evening work, working through the weekend, pushing for our paper deadline, it's probably just good that I drop off the grid for tonight.
But this here, this is a novel feeling. Almost crashing, but never quite. Feeling the lead-in to an emotional breakdown without it going all the way.
I can live with this.