Well, I failed on going back to sleep - I think I'll pop a couple of recreational lorazepam. I'd do anything to do as well as I did last night. Popped the pills and now it's a waiting game. I trust lorazepam, even though I'm drug resistant - it means I can take vast quantities when I'm high to help bring me down. I'm very lucky in that I subsequently have no trouble coming off it - no withdrawal symptoms, unlike the morphine for my back.
Just been outside to look at the stars, but it's cloudy. I was hoping for some inspiration. For my life, rather than the blog, which writes itself. I'm still semi detached from the world - living in a glass carapace. I feel exposed - everyone can see in, but I can't really see out. So those who don't know me well can see me functioning, and wonder what all the fuss is about. My friends, however, when they look in they see the real me of the moment, struggling to stop drowning and trying to get my mind better. The glass carapace is not a protection, it's a magnifier of all the things that are wrong. I think that if I tried to reach through it, it would be solid and I'd be trapped so I don't try.
The flowers that Tony and Rosemary sent me are still in good nick and they smell lovely. I don't have many flowers in my garden, just trees and bushes, which is fine by me as I"m the kiss of death when it comes to having green fingers. I kill pot plants - even the poinsettia at Christmas is long gone before the holiday starts.
I had a long chat with my cousin Richard tonight - he's keen for Kate and me to make another London date so we have something to look forward to. Good idea.
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?