Last night I discharged myself from hospital- technically I'm on a 'weekend pass' but I know I'm not going back.
Today I am enjoying the very simple pleasures of which I have been deprived and which are rather lame when I think about it, namely cups of tea when I want them and a little bit of housework.
I am aware that I am in great danger of overdoing in and the elastic between myself and the hospital is probably a little overstretched right now.
I need to get better, I need to be well again but I need to allow myself to recover and that's very different from making myself recover.
I have a great team of friends and health professionals "in the community" and I think between us we can do it.
The next few days, weeks and months are going to be very challenging but I have plenty to keep me occupied, not least the hundreds of letters I need to write to the Cabinet Secretary for Health and Wellbeing, Nicola Sturgeon.
I'm glad to be home, I think and as usual I crave external validation for my decision but at the moment I'm aware that in spite of the tears the hitherto unseen anger and upset I displayed in front of hospital staff last night, no-one tried to talk me out of going.
My blog has proved to be a source of great comfort and support and now that I'm back in the lovely land of Wi-Fi I can update it more easily so I'll let you all know what's going on.
And finally, the treatment of Mental Illness in this country is shameful. I am many things now but I still remain political and when I'm back to full strength I really hope to do something about it. I started yesterday with my own very ignorant relative who enquired whether "the rest of the people in here are *circles finger round side of head*" I replied "no they're all just like me, mentally ill".