Stability is not always a given for me.

I don’t think it’s a given for a lot of folks out there.

I fluctuate back and forth between being lucid and not.

And back and forth on my ability to be able to be stable.

Being stable is a big change for me.

And it looks different for everyone.

What could be stable for one, might not work for another.

There are layers to all of it too, mental, physical, all of it.

I’m much more stable than I ever have been.

Today I stand here, quietly.

My mind is calmer than it ever has been.

I can start to lean into this silence a little bit more as these quiet days pass.

I’m seeing it as a part of me again, not some foreign feeling anymore.

I feel like I can finally say that I’m stable.

It’s tough because I’m grieving too right now.

For my grandmother still, and my dear friend who passed away the other week.

It’s a lot to be able to say I feel stable even with these things co-occurring.

Before the Haldol I would’ve expected a huge burst in my paranoia, delusions, and auditory hallucinations with the stress.

Before this medication, they would’ve taken over right away.

Oh, and, the steroids that I’m on for my arthritis right now, they usually stir up shit too, but hasn’t been an issue this time.

Not yet at least.

I’m actually pretty shocked by how good I’m doing.

It absolutely feels like something else will fall and break soon, but that feeling of impending doom is nothing new for me.

I wondered if everything would pick up symptom wise, but it did just the opposite.

Which honestly makes me feel pretty alone.

Maybe that’s why I’ve been wanting to be out more in public this week.

I feel like being in a crowded restaurant or something to almost distract me from the quietness.

Not that I don’t like the silence, it’s just at times it’s a bit deafening.

It becomes engulfing and before I know it, I’ll start dissociating and lose hours at a time.

It’s like the silence can suck me in, just in a different way than hearing the voices do.

Maybe it’s because I don’t get much silence so it’s like this odd sensation to me.

It’s special, and limited, but I don’t always welcome it.

It’s not that I’d prefer to hear voices – that’s a nightmare and missing the point.

More on, quietness is the absence of everything, and I’m used to hearing heaps of things every second of every day.

They’re very different, practically opposite situations.

Almost incomparable.

But usually when things are quiet like they are today, I’m content to sit here and write and watch Star Trek.

Some days I go out for a drive.

Sometimes I’ll just take Bruce on another walk.

It’s just a lot.

Some days it feels like it’s too much trouble.

And then other days I’m super content in my little world.

It’s troublesome in the morning – not knowing what word I’m waking up into.

Will I be hearing things right off the bat?

Will I get one walk in before I hear someone narrating what I’m doing?

What was that?

And it continues throughout the day and is tiring.

Very tiring.

I’m always too tired still.

Oh, fuck, the exhaustion is real.

I just finished up “The Next Generation”.

So I started in on “Deep Space Nine” just yesterday.

Epic jump.

Love this new perspective.

I’ve been hooked since starting with the original show this March.

That’s a lot of television.

But who cares.

I’ve always got the picture box on – helps me think.

Or maybe rather, drown out other things.

Today, stability looks simple, but was extremely hard to get to and even more difficult to keep.

Especially since I have no control over my mental illness and it could spike again at any given time.

It’s unpredictable.

– Keren