His mind is in a different place.

  Happy 2022. Somehow, I’m still alive.

The final leg of my Pregabalin tapering schedule was 25mg every second day, landing the final dose on Monday the 3rd of January.

In an unprecedented feat of emotional stability, of which I am inclined to accredit the overall lack of anti-convulsants:

The month of December was entirely devoid of inconsolable crying!

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The sleigh this year is heavier.

  Work allows staff members to wear holiday themed aprons in December, as long as they’re made out of the seasonal fabrics which are sold in-store.

In previous years I’d been too fucked up on anti-convulsants to feel anything other than apathetic about the idea, but motivation has come back online in their wake, so this year I took the offer to write-off a slice of gingerbread homespun and go absolutely ham with the tartan scraps in my stash.

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You’re split and uneven.

So, like…
I’m not saying tapering off pregabalin has cured my depression…

Pills that straightup make you wanna die.
Pills that straightup make you wanna die.

But it is entirely within the realms of possibility that I may have been experiencing one or two Side Effects™.

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