I'm alive. I've been awake over 35 hours and counting. I didn't sleep on the long haul flight, not one wink. It was a full flight and we were packed in like cattle. It was a long and uncomfortable flight. I couldn't sleep, so I watched about 5, maybe 6 movies. I can't remember what they were now.
I landed in Auckland and had to wait 4 hours for my connecting domestic flight. It was a gruesome experience. I'd been awake over 30 hours by then and realised that between losing an entire day and the odd sensation of crossing the international dateline, I hadn't taken my meds.
By then, I was in a bit of a daze and wandered accidently into a security area and had to be detained briefly. I was a bit paranoid and kept hearing strangers talking about me. I finally found a quiet corner and curled up there for the best of 3 hours. I knew then I should take my meds, but I didn't dare to because I was so exhausted I couldn't eat anything and I knew that Seroquel on an empty stomach - particularly when I haven't slept in so many hours would knock me out and who knows what I might do. I didn't want to get into any serious trouble.
But I made it.
I made it.