Withdrawal is well and truly kicking in (duloxetine has a ridiculously short half-life and is apparently worse than others to quit). I have spent most of today asleep, because I basically couldn't move. So, so tired.
Of course this brings the dreams. This one was one of the odder type where you wake up for a few minutes but keep going back to it every time you fall asleep. The same dream, without a break in the chain.
I was in a hospital on the banks of what was supposed to be Loch Lomond (no idea what that's like in reality, but that's where it was meant to be). I'm not sure if it was a regular hospital or, well, a mental health hospital, but I didn't seem to be there against my will.
I know I was very ill, but what I remember most about the dream is sitting by a window and watching the loch, and seals playing in the water. It was totally relaxed and peaceful and just... lovely.
As opposed to the turmoil in the waking world. My mind is chaotically worried about my job and the fact that I might lose it. On the other hand, I'm nowhere near well enough to do my job, so losing it is very likely.
I wish I really could just sit and watch seals frolicking in the water. Life isn't like that, though. Not for anyone.
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