Escitalopram

I woke up really slowly today, curling into various positions as I attempted to wake up. I don't know why it's been getting harder and harder for me to get out of bed, but I suspect it's because the medication I take at night makes me drowsy. After I finally woke up, I continued staying in bed as I read David Mitchell's Number9Dream for a while. A knock on the front door from the mailman finally got me out of bed, as I raced out to the door to see him struggle to cram a package for Zoe through the little metal mail flap.

Now I am finally up and about, but a terrible feeling has sunk into my core. A feeling of 'Don't Go Out Today, Something Terrible Will Happen'. Except I can't. I need to go to the National Archives, a one hour ride away from my place, because I need to do research. 'Don't Go, There Is No Meaning', something in me screams. Another thought comes, 'You're Alone, All Alone In This World', 'You Will Come Home To No Dinner And An Empty House'. I feel the unmistakable feeling of panic begin to bubble in my chest. I feel very strained and tired, and it's only 10:50 am.

I was fine yesterday. Perhaps it's the thought of going to somewhere so unknown, I've never been to Kew before. Perhaps it's the thought that for once in a some time, I have no definite dinner plans today. Perhaps it's the thought of exams looming over the horizon. Either way I feel very tense today, with some dark inner side of me chiming "There Is No Meaning To All Of This" repeatedly in my head.