Staying in the clinic

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Saw Lisa. She’s going to try to get me valbenazine samples until we can figure out how to pay for it. I feel so much gratitude. For even partial relief of my TD. It’s overwhelming.

Now I’m sitting in the clinic lobby, crying, letting the frozen pizzas get warm. I don’t think I can ride my bike right now.

Drove home, talked with Davina. Talked over gratitude, over feelings of mortality, of giving up into writing over searching for programming (which Lisa says might push me/keep me manic). She reminds me I’m not going to lose my disability, asks me to keep with the writing. And she points out that my bipolar is part of my disability, that it’s federal, that it won’t be taken away.

I certainly will keep with the writing. I owe Lisa an in-person thank you sometime, though.

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