Happily Manic

I lied to my psychiatrist today. Most people would think that would be a bad idea, however I think I'm right where I want to be. The last time he adjusted my meds, I decreased my downers because I was complaining I was always tired. Since then, I've noticed a few more manic spells than usual, which makes sense given my decrease in downers. But I prefer it this way. It's annoying to go back and forth and find what medications work for you exactly. I'd rather be too happy than too sad. Me being manic just means me talking more and maybe being a little more excitable. I'm not overly manic or crazy, but it's nice to have that rather than depression. Today I actually accomplished every chore that had to be done. I started washing my bed sheets but only got halfway done. I forgot to do the other half, because I'm just that forgetful. But I feel accomplished. It didn't take me long to get everything done, and then I looked back and thought how awesome it is to be productive. I want to clean my room and live like the person I want to be. I'm organized everywhere else but in my own personal space. I made brownies at Josh's house and was cleaning up after myself. I cleaned every dish in the sink, wether it was mine or not. I like being clean and neat. But for whatever reason, my room has always been a little crazy. It isn't like I'm living in filth, but it could be cleaner. Josh and I both have to clean out our closets. We have too many clothes. I can barely fit all of my shirts in my drawers. I have a slight hoarding tendency that I inherited from my dad and his dad. I just hate loss, so I find it so hard to let go of things. Even if it's just a soda tab, a shoelace, broken headphones, or old boxes from whatever I ordered online. As my therapist tells me, I have to do one thing at a time and not get intimidated by the entire picture all at once. By doing several of those baby steps, you could end up walking a mile.