I keep thinking about how frightened I was when this all started. Genuinely frightened. Not just fed up or tired, actually scared that something was seriously wrong with me because nobody had prepared me for any of it. The sleep thing especially. Lying there at 2am convinced I was ill. I've got a follow-up appointment at the end of this month and I've been keeping notes to take with me, just jotting down sleep and mood, because my memory for this stuff is terrible and I want to actually describe it properly rather than going blank when she asks how I've been. Looking back at my notes from six weeks ago versus now is genuinely strange. The difference is there in my own handwriting and I still almost don't believe it. Evenings have got calmer too. I started making really simple dinners, nothing that takes much effort or thought, and that sounds ridiculous but the low-level stress of trying to cook elaborate things when I'm already depleted was not helping me. Less friction in the evenings seems to matter for sleep. For me anyway. To anyone who's in the really scared bit right now. it doesn't necessarily stay that bad. That's all I wanted to say really 💙