How do you know what’s working is working in the highest degree possible? You can’t know absolutely that the medication you’re taking for major depression or bipolar disorder is the best for you, and that drives me nuts. Whenever I’m feeling better — right now, for instance — I tend to get greedy: But I could be feeling so much better than this, I reason. Because getting better always involves a gaining of perspective, it invariably follows that, getting better, you look around yourself, see the devastation that the disease has caused, and think, I have to run from this as fast as possible. That’s when you start questioning your medication choices. Are they doing enough? How happy am I supposed to be? What’s my baseline? Am I getting better quickly enough to gain some ground, to gain some momentum to get me over the next hurdle? Because getting better isn’t good enough. What’s well? Greedy thoughts again. It can only be measured by time, how much time you get to feel better. Quality of life questions come into play — is my life so much better than when I was depressed, or am I just fooling myself into feeling better about things? I tend to forget about stressful questions, like how I’m going to do my taxes now that I’ve set myself up as an LLC, and just begin to float, so thankful that I’ve Gotten Better. It’s like a vacation: don’t bother me with the tricky stuff, I’m feeling better and I’m going to hold onto this sensation for as long as possible. Sensation. That’s what it feels like, like a strange sensation, a rare emotion, this smoothness of mood, and I’m so sensitive to it that it only takes a good morning to make me think — hope — that it’s going to be the way I’m going to feel for the rest of my life, or at least for the rest of the day. And I start to wonder, again, is this the best I can possibly be? I make resolutions, plans, for how to maximize my time feeling this way. I’m going to start this and that good habit, I’m going to be like a better person from now on, I’m going to show myself a better time. Better and better. I suppose this is hypomania expressing itself again, or I’ve drunk just the right amount of coffee this morning, who can tell? I just want more. Now I’m thinking that I should be more self-sufficient. Wait — that’s not the word. I’m just thinking that I shouldn’t be mentally challenged, mentally ill, whatever you want to call it. I’m just tired of it, so I’m not going to be that way today. I’m going to be well today, and get some work done and be happy, or at least normal, average, level, sane.