So what the hell do I do now? How will I even know how I’m feeling if I don’t have a routine? If I’m not drudging through the concrete up the stairs, how will I know I’m depressed? I feel like an old Victorian woman who has taken to her bed. If I’m not under stress…Jesus, I feel like SUCH an idiot. I HATE free time and here I am with twelve weeks of free times on my hands. How dumb am I? If I could, I would take it all back, but then I would feel like I did last week and next thing I know I’d be suicidal. It’s maddening. And what if this mouth thing, which seems to be getting worse, is permanent? When I get stressed, it happens. When I wake up in the morning my teeth are clenched and I don’t even know why. Dale says that my hands have been shaking for six weeks. I am going to my doctor tomorrow and then my shrink on Thursday. I am just at loose ends. And I have that terrible depression thing where I should do things, like clean the house, but it just feels too overwhelming. And I could so submissions but FUCK submissions. Or I could read which would require concentration. Or write, which is so hard right now. Damn.