It’s just been slow. That’s what I keep telling people because I don’t know what else to tell them or how else to describe it. I get up about 7. At the end of January to wake up brought instant anxiety and what I described as my equilibrium being off. I dreaded having to get up and use the bathroom, because to do so seemed to tick off my body and cause it to throw some sort of neurological fit. I was able to stay in bed, journal (Lord!), text, and occasionally get up to talk to my parents or sister. I was at their house.

Today I woke up at 7, in my own house. My body did not feel gripped by any kind of nasty frozen tension or anxiety. I got up and made myself breakfast. I could comfortably eat. Using the bathroom was a normal and unremarkable experience. I energetically greeted and interacted with my husband and children, just as we had done the night before having a wonderful time during my daughter’s 14th birthday dinner. I went downstairs and started a load of laundry. The little boys and I came upstairs to clean.

After filling a garbage bag and helping them sort out some things in their bedroom, I was ready to lay back down again. That’s kind of where I’m at right now. I feel so much more normal, but still not normal. I can be up for a little while, but rest for much of the day. I’ve been outside going for walks again, no longer than five minutes, but a lot farther than I was able to go at the beginning of February. The past two days I’ve gone up and down the small hills by the side of our house. It has been slow, but I’ll take it.