When I wake up in the morning my sensory responses and my bodily functions seem to respond with too much hypersensitivity.  It explains why I sleep at such long hours and wake at such late hours because the moment I try to wake up at an earlier account, I am back to resting on the pillow.  I can barely breathe at times.  For the most part my ears pick up on the sound of metal cans clacking but the ferocity of the noise sounds as though it is at a dangerously high decibel.  I am queasy at times as well too, especially when I wake up, just a little too groggy for my liking.  I want to get up and do something but that seems to grotesque for me.  Eating is one such example, even laughing is another that I seem to have lost.  Too much of it only hurts the damaged brain that my decapitated personality can take.  I lost a lot of who I was, the joy, the pleasures in life that I use to respond to so well, but I can’t help it.  You see, I also am pushing hard for stability.  I currently take 80 mg of Latuda, 1200 mg of Lithium, 25 mg of Metaprolol and 1 mg of Clonazapam.  I don’t know what is occurring.  I feel so much better with the reduction of lithium as I missed a dose on accident one time; to only find out without that extra dosage I was left feeling like a gummy pile of garbage.  It is quaint, really is, well at least I use to believe I had something quaint in me, now it feels like rubbish.  But supposedly it is doing me some good.  I am getting volunteer hours in between 15 and 20 hours within the last 2 weeks, plus payment for $15 / hour helping to renovate my Grandparents home.  I am sad to see that my long 10 to 12 hours of sleep is going to affect me from obtaining any jobs that would grant me the greatest access to the jobs with the most potential.  Most jobs ask you to start work from 5 AM to 8 AM.  And after tracking my time I barely get myself awake at 9:00 AM on most days, often my average sleep time is 9:45 PM and average awake time is 10:00 AM, give and take.  Oh, yes, about eating, I have lost 24.6 pounds because my body can no longer salvage a taste for great home cooked meals.  I don’t know what gives, I am just not hungry or I just feel too guilty to eat.  So thus I don’t eat.  I use to weigh 148.0 pounds, but now I weigh 123.4 pounds.  I feel volunteering has gave me some purpose but even up to this day with a dual diagnosis of schizophrenia and bipolar disorder, things have got increasingly more difficult to deal with.  People would consider this schizoaffective disorder, but my current psychiatrist hasn’t placed that label on me yet.  Her worry was strictly the psychosis that I was experiencing.  I don’t think I am that happy with it but, without further ado it is the direction my body is pacing at.  I can’t be that person to get out, have many friends, meanwhile having a lack luster stable life with a stable job, while at the same time the times I can’t also be that person where I am more manic, and more promiscuous, and when I don’t give a shit about stability, just a good time and good fun.  But I know if I don’t take my life more seriously it is going to bite me just as bad as bit me when dad had a pulmonary embolism and almost died.  I hope it pays off in the end, with whatever choices I may do because my father isn’t going to be here forever to pave my way like he always did or to watch over us like he always did, pay bills, go and get food, get oil on the vehicles changed, look over the mail and so forth.  In essence of this all, I am struggling just to do the basics.  I mean my basics was using a kitty litter box for a while and a funnel urine bottle.