Memories like a freight train

The hospital let me preserve my nerd status by permitting me to have pens and a small notebook in my shirt pocket. Other patients couldn't use a Q-tip unless a staff member was present, but I had a blue and a red pen. I didn't write a lot of notes - I was in the hospital as a patient, not as a reporter. The notes that I did write were mostly reminders of things that I could do if/when I ran into hard times again. For example, you know those Atomic Fireball candies? They can help you break out of a spiral of downward thoughts by moving your attention away from the thoughts in your head and toward the fiery sensation in your mouth.

There's no question that I'm feeling better. We've gone back to an antidepressant, Imipramine, that I first used years ago, when I was in high school. I had to phase out one of the other meds while increasing the Imipramine dosage, so it's taken a couple of weeks to get everything in place. Each of the medications has its own set of side effects, peculiar not only to itself, but also for each patient.

So, I'm feeling better. Now what? There's plenty to do, but it's still difficult to pick something and get started with it. Dunno if this has happened to you, but, the other night, I was lying in bed, thinking to myself, "I've forgotten how to go to sleep." That thought tumbled around for quite a while. Eventually, of course, I did fall asleep, although I don't remember how. The same kind of thing happens during the daytime. I didn't used to need to think about what I was going to do; I just knew and then I went ahead and did it. Now, I have to think about what I'm going to do, but I've forgotten how.

What's that got to do with a freight train, the title of this note? I've got boxcars full of ideas, memories, and stuff, but they're on different tracks in the railyard, waiting to be connected to something, waiting to go somewhere.