Today was one of those days where I struggled to get out of bed. Once I did get up I struggled to make even the simplest of decisions about the day. I hated feeling like I didn't even have the mental strength to make a benign decision without feeling like the world might come crashing down on me. I tried to  concentrate on simply thinking about the present moment. I then made the decision to go to the gym. Once I'd decided I then simply focused on getting ready. I tried not to let my mind wander and start thinking about the past or the future, but to simply be aware of what my body was doing and how my mind was responding. It's so cliched, I know, but if it really does help, then just do it. Tonight I feel incredibly relaxed, calm and content. It's exactly the feeling that I wish I could feel all the time.

I do wonder why so many people, including myself, are often compelled to do things we know will possibly hurt us or leave us humiliated. Sometimes it's quite obvious why we would do this there are some situations when you desperately need or crave to be hurt yet don't totally understand why. We often put ourselves in a position where this is exactly what will happen to us. You open and your mind and your soul and wait for a huge hit of hurt and a gentle hit of humiliation. Degrading but necessary.

Today has the feeling of flatness. The sky has been grey and threatening rain.  The clouds hang down as if they are trying to scare you into dullness. I don't feel happy today. In fact, I don't even feel ok today. It's one of those days where nothing feels good or happy. One of those days where I wonder if it would be better to go to sleep and see if tomorrow it better when you wake.

Another hospital trip today for the usual transfusion. The upside is it does eventually make me feel better but the down side is it often leaves me with a headache like no other and a decent temperature that makes my skin burn. It's interesting being at the hospital in the day clinic with the same patients that I see every 4 weeks. Same place, same time and often the same conversation about how lucky we all are. No one seems to dwell on the fact that we all have some nasty disease. Diseases that leave us in different states of physical discomfort and pain. Some of them, like myself, live in a constant state of feeling just 'ok'. Some of them are acutely ill and we know they will only be on the ward with us for a matter of months. They will either die or they will go into remission. The rest of us will continue to see each other every 4 weeks and tell each other how fortunate we are, despite the pain, the tears and the fear that it may never get any better.

I am now at home after a short emergency trip to hospital. I feel a little guilty as I now feel quite fine. I little of kilter but generally fine. I should pride myself on getting in early though as I usually leave these things until I am so ill that it really does become an emergeny situation. It's very hard to describe the intense fear I get when I realise I'm sick. After two days of feeling desperately unwell I became overwhelmed with an intense desire to be back home with the people I love. I am fearful to be alone though. I have such good support and it's nice to know that people have already arranged to come and help us out. After being picked up from hospital we went to the park where I watched my little loved one play. It makes my heart burst with happiness when I see her happy grin while she plays. Even when I feel terribly terribly at rock bottom, seeing a little face give you a smile that begins at the corner of her lips and radiates all the way up to her beautiful eyes, at the very least momentarily makes everything good again. I know this week will be incredibly hard. It's always fearful but comforting to know that things will slowly slowly improve.

Today is the 1st day of October. I question whether the beginning of a new month should compel me to start something new. Maybe a new habit, or the letting go of a habit or bad thought processes. There are so many things I hate about me, but they are always things that I do, rather than intrinsic traits. I can so easily get myself into bad habits, but I can so easily act like everything is ok. While this can be detrimental to coping, it can be a great thing when you need to keep your bizzare and dangerous thoughts to yourself.

Today I told myself it might be a good thing to go backwards to get forwards. Even though I know those things I once did, I did through a twisted lens of not being able to see straight. I remember a night going back to a bed I was confined to (somewhat against my will) feeling totally and utterly devastated that I was unsure of my next move. Funny how one emotion can be so strong yet you know you don't to feel it.
Since that night and since that dilemma in my mind, I've not been able to go back to who I was.

The last two nights I have slept fitfully, vivid dreaming, waking in fright, waking to hot, waking to cold, waking to an intense scream only to realise it was me. It's left me drained and sleepy. Tonight I wish for a peaceful sleep and to wake to a bright new day.

I like how my mind and body feel when I have let a sense of calm settle in. It's a wonderful warm feeling that makes everything seem easier. It's hard to be angry when there is nothing but calmness.

Tonight I felt that sense of doom. It hit me out of the blue. Perhaps I'm missing something, somebody, some sort of feeling of not really being here. It sometimes suprises me to look in the mirror. Sometimes the person I see in the mirror doesn't match what I think I am really like. Sometimes seeing a photo of myself makes me think somebody has been superimposed over the top of the picture and I struggle with trying to reconcile the girl in the photo and the girl in my mind. But alas that doesn't account for the sudden and overwhelming feeling that floods my body with fear and an acute sense of impending doom. I try and try to pretend it's not there or distract myself with seemingly meaningful things. It works for about 3 seconds and then the horrible sensation floods my body again. Perhaps it's time to sleep and hopefully wake up to a better time and place.

I have failed to write for a while. Maybe not 'failed' but neglected. Perhaps my mind has been still enough that I've not needed to, or perhaps my mind has been so frantic that I couldn't sit still for long enough to write something. My mind constantly flucuates between these states. Today my mind is frantic but my body is still. Some days I wish my mind was still and my body frantic. I suspect that would be more productive. I would be at my most productive if both my mind and body were frantic but it's hard to get to that level without the fear of crashing. I don't mind the crashing, if only it were easy to get back up again. Tomorrow I'm willing my mind to be somewhat frantic. I need my mind and my body to sustain me at an above normal level of frenzied activity. It needs to last for 28 days. Twenty eight days is the bare minimum required to for some kind of new habit.

Today is one of those days when you wonder if you really can continue on like this. I wonder how I'll get through this. It's not just the turmoil in my mind, it's the absolute physical pain that goes with it. I know my immune system is so broken that there are days I wonder why or how I'm still alive. I tend to just keep going, pretending I don't have a choice and I try to put it to the back of my mind and pretend it's not happening, like I don't have to deal with it all. Then there are days where it's the only thing I can think about and it makes me angry, scared and completely and utterly sad. Today is one of those days.

I wonder if I'm alone. Could someone else be reading my thoughts while I'm thinking them. It reminds me a little of the book 'Sophie's World'. When I lay down at night and slip into sleep does someone else take my place in a waking state somewhere else in the world? When I dream, is that reality? When I'm awake, perhaps it's really all a dream. It confuses me somewhat to try and figure out just what is reality. But does it even really matter which state I think is the real reality? It doesn't. Sometimes when I wake from an amazing dream I wish it could have been longer. If I'm still in the dream when something is waking me I can easily slip back into the dream and continue the story. Even during the day when I'm day dreaming I can do this.

I woke at 4am last night. Restless, shaky and shadowed by a thought that something was not right. I couldn't stop moving, walking and simply wishing I could go back to sleep. I finally fell into a restless sleep only to wake with a start of realising scared I would fall into such a deep sleep I would be paralysed with fear. Today was one of those days when I could have so easily burst into tears anytime anyone spoke to me. I often find myself standing among other people wishing I could see into their mind. I want to see if the boring crap coming out of their mouth is what is really what they are thinking. We feel compelled to talk about the obvious common things. Me, I'd love to just smoothly say the strange and dark things that are in my mind. The consequences however may not be best for having to see these people day in, day out at the school gate. But damn, it can be so fucking boring.

Some days I get enormous pangs of guilt. I so often feel like a fraud and wonder if I should have to die if anyone discovered what's really going on in my head. It's as if I have to try and keep a straight face, not for the fear of laughing, but crying. Every now and then it shocks me when I look around me and realised this is where I am. How the hell did I get here. I remember when I was about 7 or 8 and wondering how it would be to be grown up. When I was little I couldn't wait to be an adult. Believe me, I wouldn't go back to being a kid for even a moment. It took me until my late 20's, early 30's before I could begin to be who I want to be and to actually show it. So today I sit and wonder where all that time has gone and occasionally worry that I won't have enought time left, whether it be my own doing or not.

I spent a whole hour today in a book store searching for just the right book for a loved one. There were hundreds, if not thousands of books on the topic of which I was searching. Despite perusing the covers or flicking through the contents of hundreds of books there was only one book which I kept coming back to. Now it sits wrapping in crisp white paper ready to be posted to the receiver tomorrow. I know they will appreciate the content of the book. In fact I know they will soak up every word and try to implement all the ideas and thoughts into their own life. When your life feels out of control and you're on a destructive path to nowhere, staying focused and forcing yourself to concentrate on following one path can prove very hard. But I know the person who will read the book will try really hard wrestle back their life. They will slowly gain a new perspective in acting out their life and by the time they reflect back upon the events that sent their life spiralling out of control the pain from those events will have lessened to such a degree that they will be able to simply move on.

There are elements of the past you will never escape. Some elements are good and some are bad. All it takes is a look from someone, a smell in the air, a visual cue cast across your line of sight, a line of a song floating into your ears and it sends you reeling back into the past. There are times where I long for this to happen despite it tormenting me, and I have to work hard to get there. Yet there are times when I don't want this to happen despite it taking me back to a happy time. There are times when I either feel I want to or need to be tormented by it all.

Some days I start out calm but end up distressed at the end and some ways it's completely the other way around. Today was the latter. I started out thinking I couldn't start the day unless I reverted to old ways or more familiar methods of making my brain feel something. I don't know if I should see this as a failure or simply a naughty dash back to the past. It's a little of both. Right now I feel incredibly calm. A lingering side effect from a return to old ways. It will leave me soon and tomorrow I will wake wondering how I will again start another day where I continually amaze myself with both my resilience and my weakness.

I've always been an empathetic person, but it's so much more intense when it's your own flesh and blood. You feel the ups and the downs as they do. You can look into their eyes and feel what they are feeling. You would have to be made of stone to not feel it. 

My mind is cluttered. There are 10 million things I think about, that I need to do, want to do, should do, will do. All theses little things swirl around and around so fast that I don't have time to stop. My mind has failed me today. I can't slow it down enough to remember what I wanted to do, or should be doing next.

Today I kept thinking about how some people manage to wake up every morning and get out of bed without even hesitating. Do they ever wonder if it would have been easier or better if they hadn't woken up? Most mornings when I wake I simply want to go back to sleep. Some days it's because I'm tired. Some day's it's because I know I'll be bored. Some days it's because I just wish I hadn't woken up in the first place. There are days when I wish I didn't have to see a single person. There are days where I can't wait to get to my first appointment or activity for the day so I can be around people and save myself from self pity. Self destruction.

I've no why I continue to be a slave to my desires. Desires that often leave me with little control over what I do. Sometimes the intensity of emotion is so strong that I feel I have no choice but to let myself fall into it and let it take over me. I'd like to think that one day I may be able to sustain a calmness and control over the rollercoast ride of emotions and feelings that beseige me every day. I wish I could wake up in the morning and feel that I can get out of bed and feel happy to face the day. Feel some sense of calm or maybe even excitement about what the day might bring.

Upon waking I wonder if it would just be easier to go back to sleep. I don't know if I want to sleep because I want to dream or if I just simply want to escape.

In terms of 'normal' thinking I guess I should count today as a better day. Perhaps just aiming for baby steps is better than pretending I can make things suddenly stop.

Already I feel the resolve start to break down. All will not be lost though if I can make it to the end of the day in a better state than the day before.

I don't really trust myself with 'light bulb' moments.  While at the time I may strongly believe that I'll be able to carry out my plans, my momentum dissapates rather rapidly once the initial excitement is over. I did something tonight, which could take me back to square one with another 90 days ahead of me. While I strongly believe the literature that argues it takes approximately 90 days to break a habit, 90 days is not actually the norm. Perhaps that's why so many peopel fail. Now the light bulb moment has gone, maybe I won't think of it as having to be 90 days. I could do it in 3 sections. Three blocks of 30 days. The figure 3 most certainly appeals to my fascination with the number 3. When I wake tomorrow it will Friday 15th July. That's 5 lots of 3. Silly as it is that a number should mean something, it makes it a very appealing date to start, or at least try something that always has the potential to make or break me.

It's a wonder my sadness did lift on Monday. Perhaps remembering a particular person who is no longer here, made me feel happy with longing. However, since that day I have yearned be back in a time where I could touch them. It is a strange feeling, knowing that someone is no longer physically here but also knowing you won't every really be apart from them. It brings about pain, yet comfort to try and pretend that you were, or are, the only person, that they would feel this way about you.

The sadness has left me today, and I know I could probably even sit and let my mind roam to many a thing and feel ok about it. However, the cycle continues at least for today. I had thought I would wake and lurch into the day. But it was not to be. I awoke incredibly hazy, with my thoughts muddled and half of my body refused to accept trying to be pulled into a state of wakefulness. It didn't take me more than a second to make the decision to get my mind to a place where I would willing leave the bed. It has happened and although the day is heading toward late afternoon, I feel it has just begun.

I hate that little seed of sadness you're aware of deep inside you. You try and ignore it for a while only to realise it's grown immensely and the sadness has morphed into a huge gaping hole that leaves you feeling, well, sad. It urges it's way up and sits in your throat, threatening to explode. I try and find the energy to ignore it, keep busy, start a new project, bake a cake, write about it, tell myself it's really not there and then I feel a little tear escape from that little soft tissue in the corner of my eye. Look up and flick your eyelashes so the tears are pushed back. Try thinking of something funny or simply just try and tell yourself that it does pass. Actually knowing where the sadness came from and why makes me feel better already, knowing that tomorrow I will wake up feeling not so bad, hopefully even happy.

I don't think there would have been many times in my life where I've believed that people really understand me. Oh oh oh how cliche is that. Every now and then, after you've yet again said something a little odd, you spot a pair of eyes that totally understand what you've just said. Despite those moments being few and far between, the intensity when is happens is incredible. So intense that you know it would be unsustainable to have that every day of your life. It would self combust and crumble into a dissipated mass of trouble that no one would want to pick up. You'd be left wondering how on earth anything could ever match it again. You know you'd never find it again or if you did the wait would be too long and too painful to make it through.

There has been the odd moment where I have wondered if I've taken things a little too far. It could be the difference about 5 seconds and I realise this might be the end of it, the end of the feeings that make it worthwhile. But an additonal 5 seconds could change the whole outcome. Once it has subsided and I realise I'm back to the beginning I have a desire to start it all over again and see if I can recreate the same or even better feelings.

In this present moment I'm telling myself I am weak and incapable of honouring my much desired intent. When I'm in the moment and my senses are being flooded with peak motivation it's easy to draw in and seal the motivation within me. But when those external elements have dissapated it's hard to keep that motivation going. Relying solely on my mind is failing me. I can not let this be the case. I need to have a scene going in my mind, with words and thoughts, that keep an intense desire alive.

I'm not sure when I began to or came to the sudden realisation that I'm no longer what I thought I was. Sometimes I can get through a whole day in complete denial. If someone was to stare me in the face and tell me the truth I'd be genuinely shocked. Yet there are times when I am aware of another me drags me down with absolute guilt and fear. Some days it's incredibly easy to get caught up in practicalities of daily living and this prevents me from acessing the parts of my brain (or heart) that tell me a different story. I've heard it so often it almost feels like a cliche to stay I feel like an imposter, like a fraud, in my own life. But this so accurately describes precisely how I feel.

I yearn for there to be an easiness about this, but alas there seems not to be. On the outside it may seem a little distant, cold and detached. It can be that way on the inside too, if I choose it to be that way. For the moment though there are several things in my life that cannot be negotiated with. I want to control where my mind wanders to, to have the willpower to channel all my thoughts in one particular direction. Then I can succed and get where I need to be, even if it is detrimental.

My mind twirls and twirls. Somtimes intended, sometimes not. Twirl might be too pretty a word to describe it. It more like 'turmoil'. Where is the off switch. Sorry, humans don't come with an actual switch, though we can choose the moment if we really want too. I'm told that's not normal. Well fuck, I never thought I was normal anyway.

I fail to keep track of where I'm going and how I'm going to get there. Tomorrow would be just as good as any other day to start abstaining. From what exactly, I will discover that as I go along. One day it might be one thing, the next day it might be something else. It might simply be a test of willpower. I often feel powerless over my desire my immediate satisfaction, a desire to flood my body with bizzare yet intensly necessary emotion. I might do better if I had an end result in mind. The problem is I lose sight of that end result so quickly. How does one retain the initial resolution to see somthing through? Help me, as I am powerless to my own desires.

Feeling conected to another soul is incredibly reassuring. When the rest of the world seems so foreign to you, like no one seems to get your strange thoughts and actions, it's insanely wonderful to have another similar soul who understands you.

Loneliness is  being with someone while they are thinking of someone else. Life can be very lonely. The lonely times seem so long and desolate. Waiting for the sadness to pass, hoping your heart will bloom with happiness again. I wonder if your heart got too sad if you could transplant a happy heart in place of your desolate broken one. Is there a heart dump somewhere swelling with hearts that have been torn apart and left to die. Thankfully it is possible to repair most hearts. Sometimes though it is inevitable that to stop your heart being so lonely you must switch off your heart, stop it at a certain point in time, and feel no more.

Agirl who thinks she is not what she wants to be will never be what she already is, for it is extending what we already are that shows what we could be. Extending oneself beyond your current capabilities will only serve to let us believe, imagine and do what we think we are capable of.  It will propel one into a desired space of future belief in oneself that makes one want to create create create. Create a time and space around oneself that is reflective of the workings of ones internal head space that is ones true bizzare self.

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?