Nearly 1 in the morning, while my children and sailor sleep peacefully up stairs. Im sitting alone in my carport, sipping on a hot chocolate taking a drag on my ciggy, the wind whipping around. The sound of tree branches hitting tin fences. The waves crashing loudly in the distance. Wishing sleep could come to me. Knowing my choice to come off medication has physical affects as the drug slowly leaves my system. Knowing I need to give my body and mind the time to adjust. To learn how to sleep unaided. To form new routines. To accept I can not force or control this. I have to roll with the punches and hold on to the hope and knowledge that I’ll get through this and be better off. To accept I’m no longer the person I was the last time I came off them. That I have my children. I have my supportive amazing sailor. Who know exactly what I’m going through. Someone to reassure me when I’m doubting my decisions.