I've been back on my meds for 2-3 months straight now after a very irregular stint in 2012. For most of that time i have not for the life of me been able to get up earlier than 9am. I also kinda fell out of the habit of writing music, which sucks. It's not that i'm not interested, i'm just not motivated. I get to work late because i wake up so late. I work late to make up for it. By the time i'm home and have had dinner i'm exhausted. Then i lie in bed and watch TV till i pass out. Then it happens again. My life has taken on that very blah sheen that is precisely the thing i hate so much about being on medication. I don't feel like i'm about to flip out. I'm not about to kill myself. But one day blends into the next and i'm not motivated to do anything, even the things i made a list to do at the beginning of the year. It's worse than depression. Or it's a more insidious form of depression. It's like being married again. When i talk to friends i bitch about my job or this or that, but then i don't do anything about it because i'm comfortable and in some weird rut of "contentment", yet so far from happy. I'm not emailing anyone, but this isn't the not-emailing thing where i'm so absorbed with or excited about filling my life with other stuff that i don't wanna sit down and type (like most of last year). It's the not-emailing thing i've spent most of the rest of my adult life doing where all the passion has been sucked out of me. I'm not sure what happened this week, but i've actually been waking up around 7:30am, even on those nights i lie in bed unable to fall asleep till 2 or 3 in the morning. But instead of showering and heading into work early for a change, i just keep lying here. Now i'm writing a journal entry and will be late again. I don't know what to do. Only escape is the bottle, and the longer i'm on my meds the less appealing that even is, which should be a good thing, but instead it's just taking away the one excuse i had left for not getting shit done. When you are sober and sane and life is still slipping through your fingers you wonder why you even bothered in the first place.