Why do I think I'm going to actually start doing something (or not doing something) that I've been telling myself I'll do time after time after time and each attempt ends up being aborted because I have absolutely no will power. I am totally powerless to my own lack of will. The momentum builds and a work myself into a frenzy thinking I'll finally be able to do this. It starts with a bang and then ends will a fizzle, with my will power having been totally squashed and wondering how on earth I'll even make it through the next hour, let along the next complication in life. Mind you, I'm very good at zoning out and detaching completely if I think that being otherwise would tear me apart.

Is the only heartache in life loss? Loss of life, loss of love, loss of who you thought you were, loss of who you thought someone else was. Love, life, and loss is amazing, powerful, complicated and wonderful.

Sleep tonight and worry about the greater sorrows tomorrow

I did not know it would be so hard that it would in turn be so easy (unintentionally) to shut off. It can be a great way to deal with things if you can shut it off forever.

• I wonder if people you don't even know can look at you and know you are grieving or tormented. It's a matter of the right two people meeting at the right time when a glance that lasts a second or two account for a life time of whats going on in your mind. I remember being able to look at a certain person and feeling completely and utterly connected in a way that I didn't think possible.  Imagine finding that more than once.

There have been days in the past week where I've felt I couldn't even get out of bed. But something has made me get up. Some days I feel like I could stay at home for a week and stay in my warm bed.  I absolutely detest getting out of bed when  it's cold.  Some days I fear for the person I think I might be and wonder if I already am that person.  I look at myself in the mirror and depending on the day I see a different person each time. Some days when I see the refelction I really think it's me, but then it becomes kind of like a hologram and a version of me is transparent and begins to disappear. Quite indicative of how I feel or want to be some days.

I feel like my mind has two distinct parts that choose, or maybe deny, to recognise each other. It's a little like, if the two identities simply ignore each other, then they can pretend the other doesn't exist. But I'm not sure that it works that way. How long can one ignore the other, how long can they exist in their own little worlds? Will they become so adept at ignoring each other that they actually forget that they are not supposed to meet. One day they will collide, staring at each other, not wanting to acknowledge each others existence. Then they'll be forced to merge and try and find some kind of common ground, rather than pretending the other doesn't exist, living in completely different worlds, switching on and off as needed. It's easy to simply use one or the other, rather than trying to find a way that works for both of them. I suspect in time I will be forced to find a way to make the two parts malleable and merge them together, so that I can get through the rest of my life without having to pretend any more.

I've not idea where, why or how the feeling invades my mind and body. But one minute I'm living what I think is a standard kind of life and the next minute I'm jolted into hell as that sense of impending doom floods my body and seeps into my mind. I try a deep breath and if spreads a sense of calm through my veins, but it only lasts 1 or 2 seconds and then a sense of utter despair spreads through my veins. It won't leave me alone and I detest it being there. It leaves me incapable of carrying out the mundane tasks of everyday life, yet instils a sense of frenzied need to wallow, or possibly indulge, in random crazed thoughts that come into my mind. It doesn't matter if the thoughts are right, wrong or indifferent, at the point when they come rushing from my mind and surge through my body, I cannot claim I feel any sense of judgement, just intense dersire.

When another day goes by and I haven't done what I intended to, do I think it was a failure. Perhaps. It's a little like ground hog day. Each night I think about what I need to or want to do the next day and then sometimes I get up the following day and pretend in my head that I'm going to follow the plan concocted in my head the night before and then simply proceed to follow a different plan. It's like my body is acting out one thing but inside my head I'm mentally doing what I'd planned the night before. Like I'm pretending I'm doing it, physically aware that I'm not doing it but mentally I'm completly denying what's really happening. I'd like to think that what I've planned for tomorrow might actually happen. I wonder how I'll feel if I actually do what I pretend I'm going to.

I would like to think that it shouldn't take visuals to make one feel better, or even good. But then I must take into consideration Alain DeBottons 'The Architecture of Happiness'. I believe what he says about dull surroundings make people feel dull and depressed. It's no surprise that people who live in horrible housing estates, full of concrete and low brown brick buildings are bored and angry at the rest of the world. I know I would be if I had to live like that.  Most people when they think of green lush surroundings or stunning old architecture feel good. It's depressing when things are bland and boring. So I wonder then if I dressed in bland boring clothes all the time if I'd then feel dull and depressed all the time.  People comment on how much black I wear. I like black. It's dark and that's how it makes me feel. But that's not always bad, just different and sometimes I need it to get myself into a particular head space and state of mind to work on specific paintings, drawings and other art works. However, maybe, after today (a day spent with someone convincing me of the virtues of structure and colour), I should start to wear some more colour and see if I don't turn into a stepford wife.

I wish I could not care about how hard it would be to not be like this. Familiarity, even when the situation is not 'good' brings some comfort. If I keep going in this direction, I'll end up in a place where I thought I wanted to be.  I fear that once I get there I'll suddenly realise I don't want to be there. It will feel like wasted effort and energy on something that I put my faith in, and then it failed me. It's kind of like someone giving you  directions that you believe to be correct and then once you arrive at your destination you realise you're in the wrong place.  The longer you stay at your destination before figuring out you're in the wrong place the harder it will be to get back to where you were.  The longer the journey is the more fearful I am.

Yesterday brought about another episode of such inense feeling makes if feel like the world around me has ceased.  When I'm in that moment I'm unsure whether the world has actually fallen away from me or if I have been carried to an entirely different place where I'm totally protected. Only people in the know can see inside my head and read the thoughts that are spinning around in there. It's like the rest of the world doesn't even realise I'm there, they can't even see me.  I wonder if this is what it feel like to be no longer alive.  I'm walking around with me mind swirling and my body is almost floating and I'm sure that no one can see me.  If they did see me they would surely realise I'm mad. But when I have these moments that are intense, and I'm alone, I feel completely connected to myself and to the people in my head.

I'm watching the sun stream across a range of mountains that descend into tiny hills in the foreground. I feel like I be could or actually am in another world, far away from what is a mundane life. No matter how fast you go or how much closer you think you're getting the mountains can still seem a world away. If I was sitting or lying on one of those distant hills it could possibly feel like I'm in a completely different world, away from the mundaness and the spiralling madness. I would be loved, secure and safe with sun streaming through clouds and warming my body, making it tingle. I would feel like someone could lie with me, perhaps someone no longer alive or someone who has taken their place and we'd mould together, like soul mates, and be totally protected from a world we (or maybe it's just me) no longer want to take part in.

I cannot even attempt to describe how I might feel should everything in my life stop, or worse go away. Would I attempt to be a new person or would I yearn for things to be back the way they were. I don't know whether my heart would stop, plummet or soar. I have a plan, a visualisation of how things might go but I've know idea if it could possibly happen. Problem is, there are too many mind states I want to reach, mine and others. If you were given the opportunity to go back, and have no idea of what all the events were like, and never know any different, then I wonder how many people would do that. I think there is a part in all of us that yearns to go back. If just we could pick and choose particular events. I don't know if I could say for certainty that I wouldn't. If I could choose just to eliminate the lows, then it's an easy choice. But if I had to forget all the highs, even the out of control ones, then I simply could not do it. I would never ever give those incredible intense amazing feelings up for anything. Even if it meant my life had to stop.

To follow a path that you think feels amazing only to be momentarily jolted by a pang of doubt and intense fear makes you begin to wonder how much trust you can put in yourself.

I'm not sure where I begin right now. Thinking about something that seems so enticing yet many people would view it as wrong, or even worse, totally sickening. It's really just a change in attitude, expanding one's mind to contemplate something different, that doesn't hurt anyone, well possibly oneself but is that so wrong if it's desired and makes you feel amazing.

A wise friend said all of our experiences are totally neutral until we place a negative or positive emotion onto that experience.  I say the same. It's a lot to 'un' learn.

Today a friend quoted Oscar Wilde to me, "we are all lying in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars"
There are so many people and attitudes in this world that don't see the stars and do their utmost best to beat down the people that do look at the stars.  They try to beat down the spirit and passion that the people looking at the stars have.

Today was peacful and productive. Most people would be happy with that. But not me.

I wish music would come from the sky every day. It would be like having permanent inspiration filtering down through the rays of light and sound.  Music is so motivating and emotional.  When I listen to music I feel like I could acheive anything and I think about all the wonderful things I want to do.  Then when the music stops and I have to start the mundane tasks of everyday life, the inspiration dissapates.  I wish I knew how to keep the feeling of the motivation with me all the time.  Perhaps I should picture a future me looking down on myself playing out my life, acting out all the things I want to do.  When I'm at the studio painting I always need music to keep me going.  Music is like air for me.  I can't live without it. It keeps my mind and heart full of feeling, propelling my thoughts and desires into action to live out my dreams.

I don't know what sort of 90 days to start. Maybe it's just a desire to have something to follow and try and stick to. Everything in my life seems stuck. I have no motivation to get anything done. It leaves my mind dry and my heart heavy.  There is only one thing that seems to make my body react, makes my heart skip a beat, to feel something stronger than nothing. How do get it to feel like that all the time.

It could be the right time to start another 90 days, yet sometimes I feel that is just setting unrealistic goals that will never be reached. But maybe it's an easy way out, by pretending that I have a time frame then I have the option to return to past behaviours once the 90 days is up. I need to see the whole thing as a 'life' change. If I don't make the change then perhaps I won't last as long as required. I'm not sure why I'm required here though.

If only I could take some moments of my life and make them static, forever holding the intensity of the feeling.

I cannot stand it when my heart sits in my throat longing to swallow the feeling of passion.

Alas, the time passes somewhat seemingly quicker than I would like it to. There are so many things inside my head that I want to do. I have an idea in my head of what I'm going to do and for some reason think I'm going to get it done mighty quick. Now I realise things take time. One step at a time. I resent the practical mundaness of everyday getting in the way of the madness. On one level it brings my madness to a grinding halt, but I really hate it. Hate it, hate it, hate it. There is no reason not to revel in the madness so long as it brings creativity and productivity. Tomorrow (or rather today) should bring that. I will spend a day in the studio finishing a painting and fully intend to begin another. Perhaps it is time to look to the old masters and learn a little.

I'm so tired. It's been a tiring day but I've also inflicted extreme sleepiness upon myself by letting myself lose control, or maybe willing myself to lose control. I love it when I'm this tired and if I let my eyes close I feel like I go straight into lucid dreaming, or maybe it's just a hypnogogic state. It's such an amazing feeling because I feel like I have the control to take myself in and out of a sleeping state, yet there is a feeling of the whole thing being totally out of control. So much of what I do seems to stem from an unwillingness to let my body thrive. There is a sense that if my body is not in a mild state of suffering then I am not learning or experiencing something worthwhile. I wonder how it feels for the body and mind to be connected in a calm and gentle state.

I would love to wake every day feeling excited about the possibilities of the day. Sometimes I do feel like this, but often not. It takes practise but it can be done. People often expect to be able to change the way they think but repeating a few silly 'mantras' to themself or reading a trendy self help book. I don't believe it works that way. It takes time, reinforcement and practice. Yes, I'm sure you can read a book and it may have a profound affect on you but I don't believe you will suddenly be able to change your thinking. There are two books I've read in my life that had a huge impact on changing my thinking. I remember finishing those books and realising that taking on the advice would help me deal with things better. But it didn't mean that I was able to suddenly take on a new style of thinking without ever reverting back to my old style of thinking. When something happended that made me angry or upset I had to consciously try and remember what I'd read in the books and try on get into a headspace where I could use the techniques to try and understand what was happening and how I could change my approach to it. It's quite true what I've heard many so called 'self help gurus' say, and that it, you may not be able to change what is happening around you, but you can change your reaction to it.

Such a bad time of the year to be like me. I'm surrounded by everything that both repulses me and brings me much joy at the same time. It makes me feel both useless and determined at the same time. I long to get up on this day and look at the things around me and make a 'normal' decision about how I will digest the day. I often get to the end of a day and become frantic with promises to myself that tomorrow will be different. I've no idea why I think it will be different. Sometimes it is different from the day before yet it is not different from anything I have done before. From one extreme to the other, I seem to thrive on swinging wildly from one end of the spectrum to the other. I cannot slow my body or my thoughts down enough to let myself naturally balance in the middle. The thoughts are too frantic and my body too traumatised to allow itself to believe it deserves to be sitting beautifully balanced in the middle of the pendulum. Why I believe I don't deserve it remains to be fully recognised but as I let my thoughts fall into oblivion it becomes blindingly obvious to me that I deserve to feel the pain and my body punished.

There are days that I turn right around and consciously go backward (perhaps even deliberately) and I've absolutely no idea why. I know I am at a point where I have to battle the bad thoughts on a daily basis. Yes no, yes no, yes no. Back and forth they go, each one trying to win. Sometimes I momentarily forget what I'm supposed to be obsessing about and then it hits my like lightening and I panic that I've gone too far and while I try and convince myself to back track there's a little rational thought in my brain telling me not to worry about it. But when push comes to shove I always worry about it.

Alas I have one more day of freedom. In my head, I toss around the idea of surviving another 90 days. I imagine myself laying down, somewhere I can watch clouds and make pictures out of the completely random shapes that clouds are. I could lay there for the entire 90 days and see if I don't get hungry. Could I live on air? Possibly not. I can't even explain why I think another 90 days will work. It's never worked before, yet this time it feels slightly different. Perhaps I can change the way I think about things, close my eyes and let the thoughts spin around and around. Sometimes one of the thoughts overrides all the others and becomes an obvious point of contention battling it out with my conscious mind, each one trying to win. But I see myself laying there with little white socks and red patent mary janes. Yet I cannot see how old I am.

I wonder if I should be trying to start 90 days again. But I have no idea where it all begins and where it ends. At least I found today society is going to give me a helping hand, but no one should know that, so don't go telling anyone. I sometimes wonder if one day my body will just decide it's had enough. The problem is, I've no idea if it's just going to sneak up on me and I'll have no warning, so I keep on abusing it no end, and perhaps I'll wake up one day to find my body completely wrecked. Lest it be my mind.

How can it be that I feel like I am in multiple worlds. Crossing back and forth, trying to remember how to fit in each time my mind jolts back to where my body is. It feels somewhat surreal and kinds of like I'm floating with my eyes closed. Behind my eyes a scene unfolds and then I wake to find I am somewhere else.

I feel uneasy tonight. Like a bomb is going to fall out of the sky and I'll have to deal with the aftermath. It would be better to die if that were to happen.

Today I received the equivalent of 20 peoples blood, in the form of gammaglobulin. It takes 10 donors per unit. The two units I have every four weeks equates to 20 people. Perhaps that's why my mind is so scrammbled. I literally don't know who I am. At the very least, I can tell you those 20 people must be somewhat verging on mad. When I feel that first cold flush of medicine pulse through my veins, I really do wonder whose blood, or rather blood product, I am getting. Was it a woman or a man, how old were they, are they boring, what do they like to do. I can only assume they are reasonably healthy as otherwise they probably wouldn't be able to donate. I can also probably assume that they are a somewhat altruistic, having wanted to donate blood in the first place. I have a lot to thank them for. All 20 of them, every four weeks. I realised today how having continuous medical treatment is such an everyday reality and experience for me. I met another lady who was so obviously a first timer. Her whole family was there to 'support' her. I don't even think of what I have done as being a big deal. It's just what I do to live. Mind you, that doesn't mean I haven't had times where I just want stop everything and see what happens, if I would die, even if it be by my own hand. However, the last few weeks have been so good. I haven't felt so good in years. Suddenly I have more energy and a much more positive outlook on life, even if it is somewhat screwed up.

I have an intense fear of Sunday afternoon. I have a fear of the fear. When the clock strikes 12pm I start to worry and anticipate the dread and fear that will arise and increase as the afternoon ticks by. Sometimes the actual happenings of the afternoon are kind of ok, but before I've realised that I've worked my mind into a state of worry and my stomach into knots of dread. It doesn't help when what started out as a sunny bright day has turned into a grey cloudy sky by the afternoon. One of the Dr's told us that drug addicts feel a sense of relief when they are simply anticipating a hit and their body starts to physically respond as if they had actually had the drug. My body is responding this way to Sunday afternoon. A fear of fear. Something that nobody wants to deal with.

It is with great amusement and revelation that I come to realise I am obsessed with the numer 3. Number 3, number 3, number 3. Three three three. 3 3 3.

It is with great amusement and revelation that I come to realise I am obsessed with the numer 3. Number 3, number 3, number 3. Three three three. 3 3 3.

It is with great amusement and revelation that I come to realise I am obsessed with the numer 3. Number 3, number 3, number 3. Three three three. 3 3 3.

How amazing is this; I have made it through the day without my mind becoming too fragmented. However, it doesn't mean that I chose the harder path to take me through the day. I chose an easy and familiar pather, a path that would often twist and turn. A path that messed with my head trying to decide how intense and complicated things could get before the end of the day. Choosing an easy path in not always a good answer. The longer I choose an easy path, the longer and harder it will be to walk down a hard path. The problem is that the hard path is the one I really need to be taking, the easy path is a cheat's way, a way of denying what's really going on.

The studio is a little haven for me. I'm trying to paint a water scene. It's quite hard doing it close up because it's only when you stand back from it that it merges to create what looks like water. I like being there, listening to my favourite music, drinking lots of coffee and totally focusing on getting creative. Today was a really positive day, not even a rush of bad feelings in the afternoon. I need to figure out how I can sustain it constantly.

I wonder how different the world would be if nobody could think beyond a single moment. Beyond a desire for immediate satisfaction. Would we eventually learn to try and visulise the future. I don't like it when peope cannot think beyond what is in front of them, superficial scenes, like sets from a play. There is nothing behind the facade, everything is one dimensional with no depth and hence no substance. If there is no substance how could one possibly feel anything that gets to the core of who they are. I want to feel like there is so much more beyond my tiny existence. I don't mean more in the sense of bigger, better and far reaching. I mean beyond the scope of anything I could ever imagine, something that explodes into your mind to force you to consider how amazingly deep and complicated the mind is.

Today I was so intrigued to hear and know that there are people who think the same way. People who seem to understand that there is more to life than just getting through the day on a practical level. I met people who have the same desire as me to feel the most extreme and intense emotions possible. When I say 'possible' it gives it a beginning and an end, yet that is not what I want to portray. Despite how happy one has felt and how low one has felt, I don't believe that means there is a definitive scale with a beginning and an end. The scale one works on today may change in time. Perhaps the more one thinks, the more one explores and discovers in the world, then the beginning and the end of the scale will change over time. I don't want the scale to stay the same. If it stayed the same it probably means I'm not expanding my world. No one should ever limit their capacity to feel.

Every now and then in my life I feel what is probably a deep sense of displacement and uneasiness. Caught out. A fraud, or rather a freak, who somehow landed in the wrong life. Actually not the wrong life, but the wrong world. I want a world without a sense of order, no rules that simply serve to preserve employment. In my idealist world there would be no need for 'jobs'. People would simply do things because they needed to be done. We wouldn't need food or medicine. My world would be based around satisfying and exploring the deep deep burrows of the brain, and how we think. I hate having to be practical, it only serves to make people more and more numb. When you hear a song that brings incredibly emotional feelings flooding back, well that's how I want my whole world to be. I hate the mundaneness, it sends me even more mad than I already am. Let me lie back and feel like I'm free falling with music throbbing through my veins and heart, sending deep emotions swirling around around my body. In my world everyone would feel that, everyone would look at each other with such intensity there would be an incredible connection between every human being. The only problem one might encounter is that rage and jealousy and as equally strong emotions as is love.

Sunday afternoon so often brings that impending sense of doom and here it is again. The light is fading and has that eerie bleakness about it that haunts me and twists my stomach into knots. I baked a cake, started the ironing all in an attempt to get rid of the bad feelings but it' s not working. There is something I could do and it will momentarily bring about something warm inside, but then I know it will be pushed out of the way by the feeling of doom wanting to invade my mind and body again. Tears, tears, tears.

Today I felt no pain.

A woman and a female child once set out to discover something new. But they discovered something old, that they had long forgotten about. It shocked them and it thrilled them to find that something they thought had been buried was still there. It had been there all along, it just hadn't occurred to them that it needed further attention before it could be buried. They tried to give it a name, so they could both see something in it that connected them to it. They argued back and forth until they were worn out. The woman left and never came back. The child kept looking at the thing and decided it didn't have a name, that the child could not even decide exactly what it was. It grew and the child could no longer carry it. She had long tried to understand it, but decided it could no longer be carried by her. The child had no choice but to leave it, despite not understanding it and not having quite finished with it yet. I don't know whatever happended to that child.

Where does time come from and where does it go. Why does all the fun I have disappear into a void. But likewise all the bad things go there to. I'd like to think I could follow the time or more forward into it, but no matter how 'fast' or 'slow' it appears to go by it apparently always stays the same, no faster, no slower. When you're little everything seems to go so slow and when you grow up we always think it goes by too fast. I like to think that the time that has passed us by is now in someone else's world. Somewhere slightly smaller and then it goes on through to the next world, getting smaller each time until it is just a fragment of it's former self, denying someone the pleasure of using it slowly. It's gone all too soon.

But here lies a problem. Today I deliberately let a time slowing substance sink into my mind, letting my mind hear every single slow heart beat and every single slow breath beneath the surface. If I let it get loud enough every other noise disappears and I can hear and feel my heart beating inside my ears. Then there is a slight ringing and I can take myself back to all the external noises and then back inside my head again. But as it all wears off to see the end of another day, I realise it was just a slowing down of the day, a tick tock tick tock that prolongs the agony of another night. Prolongs the agony of another nightmare.

Such a positive day. But am I denying the spiralling downwards that sometimes scares me to the bone. I think about how one little thing could bring everything undone and send me back to the worst I've ever been, or even worse. I try and imagine how it would be if I'd chosen to to retreat and deny myself the pleasures that I've had. Perhaps I'd be in a better state of mind, albeit a stagnant and boring state of mind. All I want to think about is how I can sustain the pleasure and the pain all in one hit.

A day without pain? No A day dedicated to pain? Maybe. Not the whole day but part thereof. Having days with pain helps remind you that things either will get better, or tragically they were once better, but no longer are. How do you get yourself into a head space where you hope, believe or even know that things will get better? Actually, I'm pretty good at this. I've taught myself how to let go of things and simply move forward. I love that I can see the good in everyone and in every situation. It's such a beautiful thing to be able to do. It frees up my mind to concentrate on other things and know that I can always find a way to be calm and happy. It's just that sometimes I deliberately choose not to do this. Why? Because often to write what I want to write or photograph or paint I need to be in a dark place, otherwise I just can't seem to create what I want to. The more intrinsically connected I am to that dark space circling around within and not knowing which way to go spurs my creativity. It's as simple as that. Spin, spin, click, click STOP

What a bitter pill to swallow. Just wish it were only just a little pill, down the hatch, all over and done with. But it's not to be.

Why do I seem to need to replace one bad thing with another. Uh oh, it's a way of continuing, or revelling in the denial. Who said that? Someone who believes in psycho babble, and today, that is not me. I sat in the studio today, mixing paints, trying to find just the right colour to add to a painting that has been sitting untouched for a while. I finished the painting, finally happy with how the colours blend into one another and merge from green to blue to grey to aubergine. I know a certain person who will really like this particuluar colour combination. Its that smoky grey that with the right light has a sheen of aubergine about it. Tomorrow I go back into vampire phase. Get the blood that so regularly gets sucked out of me. I shall take my journal to pass the time and document the innner bizzare workings of my warped mind.

I can't believe that I let myself go backwards today. But something good did come of it, I decided I didn't like the sliding back, in fact it made feel physically sick. Once you've got that connection it's really hard to go there again. I feel sickened by the whole thing and I think each day I'll wake feeling a little less desperate about things to come and forget that I ever wanted something spectacular. I hope to wake to a day where I simply get up and get ready and don't think about how much 'better' I could feel. Time is a great healer, and I think time will be kind to me. In fact, who knows, perhaps tomorrow will be a count down again from 1 -90.

I finsihed a painting today that I'm really happy with. I'm yet to see what might become my distinctive style. I hope it does evolve to that. My head space was coasting along just fine until mid afternoon, then it seemed to plummet. I wish I knew what it was about the afternoons that often fill me with dread.

What a roller coaster of emotion today. I keep being told there is something more to this and I keep getting told I need to 'tune' in to it. So so so sick of fucking psycho babble. I'm to the point I don't believe it anymore. There is a time in my life where I need to forget and if I find myself in a situation where it all comes flooding back then I simply need to push it aside, to compartmentalise it, and put it to rest. If it continues to haunt me, then I must continue to compartmentalise it. There is no reason, and perhaps no benefit in revisiting it, again and again and again. I haven't felt so teary for such a long time. I lay on the floor with 6 females looking over me, staring into my eyes. Examining my eyes and telling me how they look. But the intensely bright light overhead bought back a rush of fear from many years ago, being rushed into surgery, bright lights overhead, doctors and nurses hovering over me explaining what was about to happen. It was one of the moments in my life where I was chilled to the bone, flooded with absolute fear. Then the rush of anaesthetic pumping through my veins, quickly and quietly, and that was it. When I woke, I couldn't believe that pain could be so so bad. Frantically trying to find the morphine button, so comatose aned groggy, the nurse telling me and guiding my hand to the self administering button. I struggled so hard to keep pushing the button. If I couldn't find the button for relief then I may else well die. For a week I lay there in pain I've never known and perhaps will never know again, wishing I could die. The serious look on the doctors face, telling me I was losing blood at such a rate, it was either surgery, or or, dare they say it death. I wanted death so badly, yet the faces looking at me were either saying, don't die, or accept what was coming to me. I so wanted death, many times, but it never came.

Things are not always what they seem - what an obvious line. Sometimes you see people who you think can't possibly have any real problems in the big scheme of things, but then you dig a little deeper, or something comes up and you find out they too are different. But how many people does it take to be 'different' before their circumstances are now considered 'normal'. Most people think they want to be 'normal' but how boring would it be if everybody were. I'd like to be normal if, but only if I could go back in time and erase every detail from my mind of what it's like to not be normal. The problem with existing in a space where things are warped, is that a lot of the time it's wonderful and surreal, and I wouldn't want to have missed that. Perhaps there is something to envy in people who have never had any thoughts that deviate from a basic brain structure that is totally perfunctory.

I have that strange feeling in the pit of my stomach when suddenly everything feels 'not right'. That gut churning feeling like something really bad is about to happen. The day started off really well and everything went smoothly and I felt great and happy all day. But then in the last half hour my heart has plummeted rigth down to the bottom of my stomach. I don't know how to fix it, other than try and go to sleep and hopefully wake up with a better feeling tomorrow. This is what people like me describe as 'impending doom' and I hate hate hate it when it arrives, sitting, starting at the top of my chest and throat and then moves down to the bottom of my stomach making me feel terrible. Not just terrible, like everything is suddenly scary and bad.

I woke today feeling somewhat refreshed. It's not that often that I feel like that. The day went too quick and before I knew I'd peaked to a high point and managed to sustain it for the afternoon. But now it's fallen, and there is nothing to bring it back up. I am lost.

This could be a continuation and therefore it would be day 94. But if it's a new start it would be day 4. I don't really care anymore. Does it really matter how many 'days' it takes, as long as things head in the right direction. The problem is sometimes that direction is not always what people might consider the 'correct' direction. I'm torn between taking two paths. Somedays it's easy to convince myself, or rather stay on automatic pilot, and take the correct path. Other days I deliberately want to take the path that leads me away from normality and away from the rest of society. At least this path has no end, I can keep going, meeting amazing people along the way who themselves have often taken the wrong path too. On the 'correct' road I do meet some amazing people, but there is something restrained about it all. Sort of like, don't diverge too far or attempt to go a long way because this normal road ends. For me, it's like there's a road block at the end and that's it. That's it! Is that it for life, nothing more, can't push your mind to think on consider other options of what could be out there. Life would be much easier if I'd never discovered the 'incorrect' path, then I'd never know what I was missing out on. The problem is I do know what I would miss out on if I took the correct road, and I most certainly do not want to miss out on any of it. No matter how dark or painful it might be, it's an incredible experience that I need need need to have.

Today is strange. Stranger than I've felt in a while. The strange light headedness of being slightly ill and recovering from a high fever the past week. It's a bit odd trying to figure out what's real and what's not. Right now it seems all to real that I'm trying to deal with the mundaness of domestic life but wishing I was simply going mad. Madness would be preferable to any sort normalcy and watching the world go by doing stupidly mundane things that do nothing to enhance their inner world. I would rather be committed and have my brain and mind work overtime channeling into a world where things are distorted and fanciful and fun. Where you have an absolute freedom to think whatever you want and to voice whatever you want. Who cares if the people restrained by a suit or a sensible dress think it's odd. It's not odd. What's odd is going through life never even contemplating a different way of thinking. A different way if doing things even if it doesn't get the expected result. I don't care about 'expected' results. I care about my brain being in a whirlwind of desire and fantasy, yet still within the confines of what I see, feel and hear around me. I wish I could more often feel like I feel when I'm in that hypnogogic state and I can't tell what's real. But it's such a wonderfully out of control feeling. If I'm going to be out of control then I want it to be grand.

Today is technically day 90 but I know it doesn't stop here. It doesn't miraculously get any better, or even any worse for that matter. I've been in bed for the last few days with a fever and a slightly delirious head space. I guess that makes it easier to belive I'm doing ok because when I'm genuinely sick I just can't be bothered with bad behaviour. It's a chance, however, to connect bad behaviours to bad feelings and hopefully sometimes that's just enough to brings up ill feelings when I think about undertaking certain behaviours. I don't think I should start 90 days again, I think I should just continue on a journey of abandoning reckless and stupid behaviour. But how do I stay true to that when I'm so on edge or my mind is in a whirlwind of of heightened desire to drift back into bad behaviour?

Day 85 and I've given up. Well, not given up, just decided that it's a stupid rule. I thought I might respond well to rules, but I am told otherwise. In fact, I was even given a bit of a talking to recently about not following the rules of 'fitting in' and following the right path. I don't want a straight path. I don't even want one long curvy path. I want to get off the path and go somewhere where I'll find all the other people that either lost their way or deliberately vered off course. Actually I've just realised it's day 86 because it's 2am which means it's now Friday. Freaky Friday, what will it bring. Maybe now with the fresh 2000ml of blood I received today, I'll have a little more zing.

Not long to go now, but I've no idea whether to actually bother counting down the days or start counting all over again. I probably need to start all over again but perhaps I shouldn't be focusing on getting this over with in a simply said 90 days. There are approximately 4 lots of 90 days in a year. I could spend a whole year pursuing 4 attempts at this and still not get anywhere. Over and over again I see the dark side of things, the side that makes me want to rock with laughter and shame all at the same time. Someone tried to explain the difference between shame and guilt to me. I vaguely understand the difference but it feels the same to me. If I close me eyes even for just a few moments my head starts to drift into a hypnagogic state where reality gets blurred into hallucinations. It's so hard to tell if it's real or not because enivitably I hallucinate about things I've been thinking of or things I should be doing. But then my body violently jerks and brings me back to the present. I love it yet am slightly scared of it. It feels vaguely like I should be physically going off to another world yet something brings me back at the last moment.

I wonder why I even thought that 90 days is some kind of benchmark. I have previously read that it takes about 90 days to break a habit, or form a new one. Perhaps I should have focused on forming a new habit, rather then trying to break an old one. I technically have 14 days left but I know I will probably need another 90 days, again and again and again. It's not that I want the thought process of it all to stop, I just wish I wouldn't give in so easily. Sometimes I feel incredibly strong and think I have control over it, but then I somehow convince myself that it's not a big deal and it doesn't matter it I give in. There are times when I remember thinking like this when I was a little child. It's like my thoughts have not changed and the older one gets you don't actually feel any older. Perhaps my thoughts are wiser and more mature but often they are driven by an inate desire to both lose control and stay in control. It's all or nothing, I cannot seem to find that middle ground. When I've had a really productive day it feels better at the end of the day than when I've not had a plan and flittered around not really achieving anything substantial. It doesn't need to be anything of great value or of consequence, it just feels better to have completed things. I hate that feeling of things being incomplete, and when that lingers day after day and turns into weeks and then months it's quite frustrating to know that the longer it goes on the harder it gets and I feel like giving up and turning to a new task. It's fine to have a list of tangible tasks that can be ticked off one by one. That gives a grand sense of satisfaction when you reach the end. It's harder to achieve that same feeling when you're trying to reach some sort of conclusion with subjective and abstract ideas. Sometimes I don't even know if I'm heading in the right direction. You think you've sorted it out only to realise that it's not the right direction and you have to go back to square one and decide which way to turn. It's hard not to get sidetracked along the way and sometimes the thoughts come so quickly that your mind has abundant ideas and they're coming quicker than you can even write them down or organise them into any sort of logical order. It's then that things start to whirl around and go so quick that you desperately wish you could slow them down, yet you can't bear to not be on such an exciting, yet complicated, ride. I don't know when to stop.

It is with both trepidation and relief that I realise I'm well on the way to what I thought would be 90 days. Day 74. Day 73 was not good. Today was somewhat better but then I hear that I look tired and drained. Told that I am running away again, self soothing with substances that were once enjoyed with friends and all was well, but now it's because I need to get rid of that mass of whatever it is sitting in stomach, creeping up to my throat. Told that I often ended up either in tears or left with a silent rage sitting inside me and not knowing how to get rid of it. Apparently there is a solution, or at least something akin to a solution. I'm not sure I want to dissolve the rage. Perhaps I find it quite cathartic letting the rage simmer away as it keeps me motivated to ensure that I do all I can to change how things are today.

Day 70 didn't go quite so well, thought about things alot and let it get to me, consequently fell down, but got back up again today wondering when the next time will be. However, I over compensated all day and now, tonight, I feel slightly guilty and annoyed that I keep letting the same thing happen. When does one learn to get their thoughts straight and learn to look at the facts rather then letting their warped thoughts of what they see inside their head drive the thoughts to be more and more strange. Funny, because most of the time I am brutally objective except, of course, when it comes to my own head.

Ok I guess it's really day 70 because once again I've stayed up past midnight. So it's already Thursday and I will probably only get 3 hours of sleep tonight as I have to get up at 4.30am to catch a plane. I don't know how I survive sometimes on the little sleep that I get. Perhaps it's one of my phases, which I know will pass and I'll probably sink down into a 'lull'. I know which I prefer, who wouldn't. Things seem great, everything looks good, I feel good, I am good, no actually I'm incredibly bad. Bad to the core and can't be trusted with anything. Ok, so I know that's sometimes how I feel but I don't think I'm like that deep down. I really just want everything to be good, and for everyone to accept the things they can't change and be able to laugh at themselves, for everyone to look at the positives and think the best of everything. Especially of me, because I know I can be good, but now I'm so confused I certainly don't feel good, just, well, confused to say the least.

It's technically day 69 but I've stayed up so late I feel like it's still day 68. My sleep has been so erratic over the past 48 hours that I really can't tell which day or what time of day it is. Today I slept until midday, but I woke with a fever early in the morning, almost delirious, and went back to sleep. Two days ago I said that I can't sustain what I'm doing and that is already proving true. A fever, early on Tuesday morning has been the only time my mind state has been altered, but that has not stopped the strange thoughts about what could be and what might come my way if I let it happen. But right now I feel I should go to sleep, try to shift my body clock, to fit in with the normal world. I wonder why, it's something that I've never wanted to do, something that I wished I didn't have to do. I don't know why I should, I don't want to feel forced to fit in where I don't and don't even want to.

Day 67. I cannot continue like this, I don't think I can sustain this without it being self destructive. Part of me wants that because it brings about the feeling that I'm in a kind of altered state of reality. When all you see in the real world is people moving around simply because that's what you do, with no thought as to what they really might like to do, it's quite oppresive. Somedays it's necessary to play out the mundane routine tasks that have to be done, but one migh hope there is some sort of repreive at the end to let you indulge and sink into another world. A world where you don't need to think about how those mundane tasks are slowly driving you insane. It's quite ironic that when you can't handle these everyday tasks or absolutley detest them, that's when people consider that you have possibly already entered the zone of madness. It's just a shame that being in an altered state of mind is so good, but certainly not sustainable.

The day thus far is good. Of course some of the first thoughts are still as present as ever and I wonder what I'd think about if they were not there. My mind would be free to explore so many other things, or I might simply transfer the intensity of to other issues. Day 64 and it was yet another day that I woke and the same thoughts seeped into my head. I tried to rationalise them and tell myself to stop it and concentrate on something else. Sometimes it works, other times it completely useless and I may as well wallow in the thoughts until it passes. Sometimes the thoughts do pass and I temporarily forget what's been invading my mind. Inevitably though, the thoughts come flodding back, usually quickly, as if they are an answer to my problem, whatever the question is. I have accepted that I might get trough this day being somewhat normal but I'm sure this afternoon will bring more thoughts.

How an earth did I get this far into this and not really have travelled beyond my capabilities. Sometimes I just keep telling myself it's not worth it and it will only bring about disappointment. Day 63 and I've gone way to far to think yet seem to have covered little ground. Today the same feelings all appeared again. It's often at certain times of the day and I really should distract myself but the thoughts come in waves and I want so much to ignore them, yet I let them flood my body, like a sensation of relief. It's a solution to a problem, except I'm never quite sure what the problem is. How does one conclude an answer and even begin to try and solve a puzzle when the question presented is ambiguous or not even understood in any why what so ever. Some days I just push all the thoughts away and perhaps there are times when I'm totally unaware that they are even there, entering my head. Other days I let them invade my head and body and give in to them. I give in, just when I think I've forgotten about them or thought that I had them figured out, but alas they invade with a passion and send convulsion like shivers through me. I don't know the question and that means I've a long way to go before I can answer it.

The day just got better. Indeed. This might be as good as it gets, which is a shame, because this means that the rest of the day probably won't feel as good as this.....................

Today was not the best of starts to what could have been, or perhaps still could be, an uncomplicated day. As soon as I woke I couldn't stop the flood of thoughts about how I much I could deceive myself. It's still early and not too late to consider trying to think normally for the rest of the day. I can but try.

I am two thirds of the way through what I thought would or still could be 90 days. Today I felt my mind easing back into familiar patterns, and I like it somewhat more than I have in the past 2 months. That's not a good thing. I seem to sway back and forth between thinking that there is nothing wrong with being this way and knowing or believing that it shouldn't be this way. Today I started of thinking that it doesn't matter, there's nothing wrong with this, it's just that most people don't see it this way. Perhaps they just don't understand, can't see beyond the constraints of what society says it 'good' or 'bad'. So much of what swirls around in my brain is frowned upon. But how do I know that everyone else doesn't have the same thoughts and are just not saying anything. I expect there are a lot of people who's thought processes are just as strange or yearning to be different. But they just won't admit it.

I got through the day better than intended. I momentarily wondered about heading back but the feeling came and went rather quickly. When I realise I'm not going there, where I would be giddy with false happiness, it makes my heart plunge slightly with desire for lost feelings. But part of me wants to prove things can get better, be better. Another part of me doesn't care for moving forward with such abstinance, I long to lay there all day with my mind coming and going whenever it suits me to be part of the real world, or not.

Day 58 and I found myself momentarily back in the head space I've been trying so hard to get away from. The problem is I like the thoughts in that head space, I just don't like the consequences if I act. I knew straight away though it was a mistake and I was able to stop myself from taking further action. I guess that's a good thing. It's true that the longer this goes on the easier it gets. I always expected that there would be blemishes along this path, blemishes that will perhaps remind me of what a long and trecherous journey it is. It's not just going to be 90 days. I only wrote that because once I read that it takes approximately 3 months to break a habit. It's hard to break a habit that rewards you in many ways, even if only you think so. I yearn for the feeling of being able to wake up feeling and want to face the day. I yearn for that feeling I think I'd get if I were to lay in grass and look up at the sky, perhaps a night sky and feel the air swirling around me, making everything seem blurry, but making my body feel light and awash with feelings of nothingness.

Day 57 and I haven't been to sleep yet. Have been frantically working on things all day and still not tired. Maybe it's a new phase coming on or maybe it's just because I slept late this morning after a late new years eve. I quite like the quiet of the night when I'm the only one awake in the house. It comforts me to know there are people here yet I'm all by myself.

Day 56 and it's the first day of 2010. Surely 2010 will be a better year than 2009. There are such great expectations surrounding a new year. Everybody wishes for a new start, lots of luck and all the other somewhat stupid things that people write in the Christmas cards they send out with photos of their children on it. When I finally purge the Christmas cards some months into the new year I feel slightly strange tossing our a photo where a child or children are smiling up at me. I remember their faces, I don't need a photo. I slept quite late today after a drunken evening. Everybody seems to be on holiday and outside on the streets it reminds me a little bit of a movie where something awful has happended and the streets have been abandoned. Like a nuclear holocust where everthing seems left to perish and the landscape terrifying. I can't wait for the world to get back to normal and it's business as usual. I feel an astonishing sense of fear when my world has been abandoned.

Day 54 and today was a great day. I can't explain truthfully why so, but it just was. Perhaps I could be honest with myself but then I wouldn't know what to say or do to anyone who asked for the truth. The last couple of days have been busy but amazingly boring, boring to the point I wondered why I didn't just sleep through the past 48 hours. When I don't want to get up in the morning I know things are probably taking a down hill slide. Today though I woke with that little feeling that's condensed in a little ball and bouncing around in my solar plexus that incites pleasure. It's a good feeling, where by everything feels fine, even good, and then every now and then it peaks into anticipated excitement. I wish I could feel that every day. I don't know how to achieve it though. Perhaps just by pretending each morning when I wake up that the feeling is there it might make it actually happen. The power of belief can be a great thing, so perhaps it is possible. I wonder then if it's possible to change that intense impending doom and fear that often comes on toward the end of the day. That fear feels so so real, but I don't know what I'm fearful of. It's just an intense dread that started in my throat and continues down through the solar plexus and into my stomach. It's the only feeling that I can describe in detail and how it sends my brain spinning with fear and loathing of myself and what I might be capable of doing.

I didn't sleep until late last night, or rather early this morning. I woke late today but amazingly I woke feeling what could only be described as content, perhaps even happy. I noticed that while we were away over Christmas I awoke several mornings feeling this way. I don't even think I can remember the last time this happened. It could be the new medication, that I've been taking for the last 4 weeks and haven't skipped a dose (forgotten or otherwise). Some of the thoughts are still there and already I have to admit that the habit continued today. However I feel positive that while it's a setback, I am still moving forward. Moving forward in the right direction. I wish every day could feel this way. The weather is incredibly depressing. It's summer but a change has set in of cooler temperatures and non stop rain. Some days, like today, I enjoy hearing the rain and trying to feel 'cosy' inside the house. But sometimes the lack of bright light makes me feel intensely hollow and there is that familiar feeling of 'impending doom'. I had that precise feeling yesterday and for the first time in a long time a took a pill to help settle the anxiety. I try not to do this because they are so addictive and one needs more and more to get the same effect if they are taken continuously. Today I feel quite content just wandering around the house, taking care of little jobs and trying to make plans for the bigger jobs that need to be done. As I write this I glanced at my latest painting. It's an acrylic of my memory of the 1983 Ash Wednesday bush fires. Those fires evoked enourmous fear and anxiety in me. When it was clear that our house had survived, we drove home. I was too young to have any say in it and I was absolutely terrified of going home knowing that there were so many spot fires and while most of the foliage around our house had burned down it didn't mean that a spot fire couldn't still take to the house. Perhaps this is why I sometimes love the consistent sound of gentle rain falling outside. I know that everything in the natural and man made environment will be filled and soaked with rain. I like knowing that it would be hard for a fire to take hold when so much water has soaked the earth around me. I intensely fear the searing heat of a summer sun that threatens to engulf everything in flames.

Sometimes I hate the holiday season. When the shops are closed and families are tucked up inside their houses or off on holidays I feel like the whole world has disappeared. I feel so alone. Sitting here by myself waiting for my own little family to return. It's one of those days where I simply long to feel good or better. I'm up to day 51 and while I keep having little set backs I'd like to think I'm slowly but surely making it to where I should be, a better place where I can think like a normal human being. But the sky is grey and rain intermittently falls, making my mood plunge a little lower and I crave for something, anything to take away the gut wrenching feeling that sits just below the solar plexus. It feels empty and hurts.

Day 48 and I managed to vaguely keep myself together. I'm visiting family and when I go into town all I see are feral people roaming around and I wonder how on earth one would end up like that. It's quite good incentive for keeping a bit of culture in one's life. When I crossed the road some revolting guy made a comment about having been waiting for me. He and all the others like him can wait as long as they like, I'll never be going down their road, never. I'd rather die than live like that. Perhaps I should blame my mother. Right now feels like an endless road of trying to figure out what's about to come next. I have slept well the last few nights and I both dread and long for a night where I wake in the middle of the night from a dream where I can barely pull my mind and body from the force of the dream, a force that takes a while to overcome and realise where you really are and what's happening. Sometimes it's enough to put you in a particular state of mind, that keeps the bizzare and wonderfully crazy thoughts coming quick and fast enough to make you question who you are, where you are and where you're going. Enough to make you yearn for it over and over again. I wish I could get there again, hopefully tonight. Perhpaps tonight will bring that etheral state of being to me again.

Day 47. A small hiccup but nothing to atrocious. I do still wonder if when people look at me they can tell there is dialogue going on in my head that would not be understood by some, or maybe all. The words swim around so quickly it feels like that moment when you wake up and still feel like you are trying to pull yourself out of a dream that you've just woken from.

Day 46, a little unsure of how or which way to go forward, or perhaps even backwards. Some days it brings just a little more pain to realise that perhaps I'm stuck in the present. Some days I feel so invisible but there is so much inside me that wants to be understood. I'm never quite sure who would understand if I did start spurting forth with all the thoughts in my head. I quite like living in a bit of a fantasy land. To be otherwise would be all to boring.

Day 45, but for majority of the time I've stopped counting. I've not given in. But sometimes not giving in to it propels me in another direction of destruction so is it really a success? There seem to be so many things that my mind, and sometimes my body, craves. It needs to condense everything and let it come spewing out like an overflow valve. Things are most certainly mundane at present, mostly externally though. I think when things are particularly mundane on a day to day basis is probably when my mind feels the madness. I can't cope with the boredom of walking through the day, thinking and feeling nothing. That's when it starts to tunnel into a void of change.

Finally, she sleeps. I awoke feeling slightly groggy but rested. It's funny what I dream about. I did something last night that I was obviously worried about being found out. Then while I slept the scene kept playing out but I was so worried I'd been found out. In the dream everyone seemed to know that I'd done something but no one could actually figure out what it was. Yesterday was such a tiring day. Shooting wedding photos all day, but I'm happy with the results. I realise now that what I set out to do is slowly working. But how can destructive behaviour feel so good?

I thought lack of sleep might leave me in a confused state. But it seems lack of sleep and lack of food does something to the brain chemistry that makes one feel a little elated. The last few nights I've now laid down to sleep intil 4am or later and then I'm back up by 7am. Now it's 1am and I wonder if I should try and sleep. I'm the only one awake in the house. We are staying with family for christmas and all but me is sound asleep. Part of me wants to take the opportunity to stay awake all night so I can find some pleasure in being all alone with my thoughts, no one to interrupt and ask me questions. Tell me to eat, to drink, to sleep, ask what's wrong, what can they do blah blah blah. I know it's just a phase. Next week I'll probably be sleeping like a baby and craving chocolate morning, noon and night, but I hope not. Tomorrow I have to be up early to get organised to shoot a family wedding. It's going to be awfully hot. I hate the heat, but hopefully being fuelled by the elation of lack of everything one's body needs will make me fly. Now I will lay down and lay there thinking of bizzare situations and making little stories in my head. Stories that only I can see. Perhaps one day there will be certain people, or in particular a certain person that all will be revealed to. Wow, I can't even remember what number day this is supposed to be but all is well and I'm managing just fine. Problem is I compensate and substitute. It's not meant to be this way.

Right now I feel like I could stay awake forever. There's been so much to do and seemingly so little time to get it all done. If I go to bed now I'll be up in 3 hours doing it all over again. It's quiet in the night when you're the only one awake. The hum of whitegoods in the background and occasionally the sound of what I think is a possum outside. If I listen carefully I can hear the rush of cars going by up on the main road. I miss living in the hub of activity. This place is way too quiet for me. Strange that when I'm awake in the wee hours and struggle to hear the sounds of the outside world I feel kind of different and it reinforces what I think of myself. Yet during the if there are no sounds indicating life outside I almost panic. I feel a strange sense of loss and loneliness. I need to hear the sounds of daily life going on. It reassures me that I'm real and that people can perhaps see me, not through me.

These little thought bubbles, they come and they go, before I can even figure them out. Which means I sometimes find my mind working backwards trying to create some meaning or reason for the little thoughts. A good day but I can't say why. Busy maybe. I feel like everyone is in 'party mode' in the lead up to christmas. People seem to be a bit 'nicer' for want of a better word. Lucky they can't read or even sense what's in my head. It seems to be all too easy for most people to let the words tumble out of their mouth while an entirely different conversation is going on in their head. All for social ettiquete. Some days I just tell the truth about how I really am and people are shocked to hear that "I'm not good" thank you. Thank you, thank you for asking, but forgive me for telling the truth. The truth hurts and most people don't want touch it.

Hyped up but feel ready to lay down and try and sleep. I don't know how or why I make myself do it again and again. It's an urge that just doesn't seem to wane. Yesterday was the first day in a long time where I didn't desire to lay down and let my body melt away and my mind stayed stagnant for some time. I need my mind to keep craving things that remind that the world is not all insane. So many things seem crazy and insane and some days I just watch people moving around, wondering what they're thinking, if they think anything is odd in this world. I guess perhaps they really don't think about it. That can be the biggest downfall. It makes it complicated to think. Just don't think. Just pretend you can get up every day and not think. But what would I be without trying to see inside people's heads.

Today i woke late. Yesterday we had a party and I didn't stop drinking the whole time. Over the course of the afternoon and evening you really don't understand how much you've really had. I didn't know if I'd cope with the influx of people but the whole thing went smoothly and I loved it. It's funny though, standing around talking to people wondering if they can see into your head. Sometimes someone gives you a look and you swear they can see what the words inside your head are. They don't say what the words are though, they just give you a look. It makes you panic slightly, just waiting for if they are going to say anything. Always waiting for someone to say the thing I'm dreading people will find out and that I'll be sent flying back through time, back to a place I both love and hate.

I woke around 3am, tossing and turning, sleeping little. I rose at 5am and then of course had a flurry of activity getting everything ready for later. I made sure all the wine glasses where ready, the champagne cold, the strawberries cut and everything else ready to go. I could do with another boost but scared if I start this early then I have no idea how I'll end up when all the guests arrive at 3pm. I feel incredibly industrious, energy seeping from my pores, that will keep me going for some time yet. Scary thing about that is, if it lasts more than a day or two I know there will be a crash at some point. Who wouldn't want to feel great though. It's so so hard to look at it practically when there's a rushing through your body that sustains you and propels you forward to better and greater things. But then later, those better and greater things pale in comparison to how low you feel. Can't stop it today though. I need all the energy I can get for the influx of guests come 3pm. Cheers to champagne.

Two days and I've managed to get through both with little thought of relapse. Haven't even contemplated it. Good days will hopefully lead to more and more pure days. I can't even begin to explain how hard it is some days. But thankfully the last two days have been guilt free and my mind has managed to focus on the present. I've woken and my thoughts have not immediately deviated to bad thoughts and desires. I long for the day when it is all a distant memory and I have to to work hard to remember what it was like to indulge in desires I felt like I had no control over. Interesting how, ultimately it is you that has control over how you react and respond to situations but when your mind is not your own you feel like immediate satisfaction is all that matters. It's like a 2 year old who only understands instant gratification, they have no concept of the future. I hope that after two good days that many more will follow. I'd like to think that out of 90 days, majority will be guilt free, then I can tell myself that most of my desires follow the good rather than the route to evil desire. Sometimes I practice solipsism, as though I can not imagine anything beyond my own internal desires. Sometimes the thoughts in my mind are so insular and stem from deep fear and self preservation that I feel like a ball of solipsism up in the corner of a room watching myself complete tasks that mean nothing and contribute absolutely nothing to extending my self.

Today felt like the worst day in a long time. I couldn't control my impulses and let myself indulge way too many times. I'm at a loss as to why I do this to myself. I know how bad it can make me feel in the long term, but in the short term I can't see any other way out.

The buzzing is still there, still taking up my brain space. It's quieter now, but still buzzing away in the background. I had a terrible headache, but with a rush of relief it's now gone. I still didn't get through the day without being in a haze of emotion that I couldn't control. It's so hot today, when I sweat I wonder if the bad thoughts and strange things are being purged from my body. I feel like I'm knarled inside, like it would take a lot of strength to purge all the bizzar things from my body. The problem is the thoughts come and go so I'll never know if they are truly gone...............

There's a buzzing in my ear. Like there's a little bug flying around but the buzzing sounds like a siren. It started with a thumping sound and for a moment I thought there was music coming from next door. But no, it's in my head, bursting out of my ear. Today was not a good day, but it wasn't horrendous either. I slept a bit during the day. I thought I wouldn't fall asleep, but I lay my head down for moment and then I woke 2 hours later. I'm so exhausted. I wish the doctor would just give me another iron transfusion. It always makes me feel more energetic within a week. I hate being anaemic, I constantly feel like I just can't get enough sleep or my legs feel so heavy it's an effort to put one foot in front of the other when I walk. Tomorrow will be good day. The day is all set out and I don't have to think about anything. I simply have to just go from one place to another and do what's requested. Some days my head is just too foggy to actually think about what I might or could do. Some days I just need to be told what to do. If the day is too free, sometimes it hurts my head to think about what I could, would or should do. It sends all these little thoughts spinning around in and then I just don't know which thought it good or bad and whether it's a real thought or not. So many thoughts are strange and distant but other thoughts feel incredibly mundane and it would be so easy just to follow through on those thoughts. But I know I'll end up so bored, I'll get so bored that then my head will fill with grandiose thoughts that I think will make me happy.

One more day with yet another red cross to my name. The thoughts are all still there and I acted on them. I keep telling myself it's not worth it and I should just push the thoughts out of my mind and concentrate on something else. Oh, if only it were that easy! Today I feel quite productive and I'm not letting deeper thoughts penetrate into the brain. That way I can concentrate on the mundane stuff of everyday. But when my body is is going through the motions of mundane activities, that's when the madness can seem like a wonderful thing.

Too too many........thoughts......can people see it, maybe they can see it in my eyes. I haven't figured out why I make myself do it and keep letting myself do it again and again. There is one thing I know though. I remember how I felt when I first had the thoughts. The problem is, I will never get that back no matter how hard I try, no matter what I do.

I have that heavy feeling in my chest. Like something is crushing down against it and I have to work hard to breath. It's partly my own fault, partly because I left if open to feeling like this. The promise of the previous feeling puts me into denial about how I'll end up feeling. I wonder if this is how it would feel to die, if you had that crushing feeling in your chest. Would you get an adrenalin rush, pushing out to the extremities of your fingers and toes, and then rush back to your chest where it would beat so hard against your chest pressing down against you. Perhaps I'd get that feeling where everything around me seems huge and I lie there feeling small and like everything is heavy and enormous in comparison to me. I remember that feeling when I was little. Maybe around age 7 or 8 I remember lying in bed running my fingers through me hair. Suddenly each individual hair on my head seemed so huge that it was heavy in my little fingers, struggling to run my fingers through it. But I loved the feeling, loved how it felt so incredibly big, abnormally big, and it was cold, really cold. I would get a unique feeling in my chest, sitting right in my throat. It felt strange, but felt good at the same time. Every now and then something happens as an adult that gives me the same feeling. It takes me back 1000 miles and hour, straight back to being a child and how incredible that feeling was. It was like having my own little world, a world only I could escape into. A world for no one else, only for me.

I am such a horrendous failure, I seek failure. It's like I need to fail so I won't have to live up to any high expectations. Which is interesting because many might say I have high expectations, particularly of myself. I was in a mild dream state today. While I tried to physically write my mind kept plunging into a partial dream like state. I kept looking down at the page only to see I'd written something entirely different than what I thought I was writing. It felt like I was languishing in a state of intense emotions that I had no control over, seductive yet slightly scary. I kept wondering if I was someone else. At times I was able to bring myself back to the present with a clear head space of exactly who I was and what I was supposed to be doing. Yet, at other times I felt I was floating back and forth in a cloudy haze of reality and a dream like state. Tonight that feeling has been relinquished, partially through physical loss and partly through a desire to take in the reality of my waking state. But now I shall try and sleep and will let myself drift off to sleep and let my mind go where ever it needs to.