It's 0100 and I'm up, but not worried as I'm sure I'll go back to sleep again. I don't have that feeling of doom that I had when I was awake before. I've scratched my right hand raw in my sleep so it's been Steamcreamed (must get sponsorship for mentioning that all the time) and it feels better. I've made myself a hot milk with vanilla and I'm having a fag.
It still feels weird to be up and about at this time of night - it's that business of being alone but not lonely. When I was young, I would regularly be up at this hour having not gone to bed, but that felt different. In the same way, seeing the dawn in when I've been up all night is different from seeing it in having woken early. I couldn't tell you the number of times I've been up all night at parties and watched first light come in, but I hardly ever woke to the dawn.
Daisy and Lucien have been fed and Arthur is still asleep on the bed. When I've been suicidal, people have told me that my love for my cats would stop me killing myself, but I'm afraid that's not true. One is so wrapped up in oneself and so self absorbed that it doesn't matter who or what you love. My recent thoughts and voices have receded, although the voices are still with me - they often hang around even when I'm well. It's bliss to be alone mostly in my head and not to have it full of nastiness.
I shall make myself another hot milk.
I spent 16 years in the RAF defending the Free World , then got bunged out unceremoniously for being bipolar. I and was subsequently diagnosed with PTSD. Funny old world, isn't it?