Things are going well. They've been good for a couple months now. I've been almost afraid to write about how well I'm doing for fear that this feeling would go away; that it would burst like a bubble and I'd be lost again.

I've been cleaning like a woman possessed. I've been driving around with no destination, with my windows down and my music playing. While it was warm, I sat outside and listened to the birds in the trees by my apartment. I bought a cheap chair for my patio and read in the warm sun. I've been hanging out with my neighbor, and I've had some very interesting discussions. I haven't had a panic attack in months. I'm sleeping, really sleeping, for the first time in my life. I had no idea what it's like not to have to take a nap every day. I'm rested, my migraines are under control, and I am getting things done.

I am happier than I've been in years. I feel like myself for the first time in ages, and it is good. It is really, really good.