Not Worth It After All

So much for lorazepam - it's 0330 and I've had 2 hours' sleep.  During it, I managed to scratch my hands until they bled, so I've just downed another Piriton and put some more eumovate on them.  I don't seem to be having dreams - I am usually a prolific dreamer, often dreaming whole chapters of books or long episodes of sci fi.  My dreams are also very dark at times, involving death and destruction, pestilence and plague.  Then there are the nightmares about rotting dead bodies.  If one believes, as Freud did, that dreams are the window to the soul, then I'm fucked.  On the other hand, they could be the result of randomly firing neurons.  Personally, I think that the unconscious has something to do with them, but that they are also trying to make sense of life and experiences.  Maybe I'll write some of them on this blog.

I'm not sure I can face telling you about the RAF at this time in the morning.  Temptress, I hear you cry.  I will put it down on this etheric paper sometime soon - maybe later, or maybe tomorrow.  You'll probably find the whole thing an anticlimax when I do jot it down - all I can say is that when they kicked me out, part of me was crippled, and I'm not sure that's ever recovered.

To phone HT or not to phone - what would I say?  "I'm awake" states the obvious, and I can say I haven't slept much tomorrow (today) morning when they phone.  They are phoning me at 0900 - mustn't panic if they are late - it's not a conspiracy.  Why does one take things so personally when depressed?  Maybe because it's such a self centred disease.  I think also that I fixate on a time and plan exactly how long I can last without exploding - if that time doesn't come, for whatever reason, or is late, I find it hard to cope, and start imagining that they've forgotten me.  I wonder if I have self esteem issues...........

How many of you are still awake, I wonder?  Or having a bad night?  In a curious way, it's nice to think that there are others in the same boat - not that I'd wish it on anyone, but it's good to have the company, however anonymous.  Who are the 324 people who've read this?  If you're one of them, thanks for looking at this and I hope your night improves.  It's such a strange thing to write this in my kitchen, by the comforting Rayburn, and imagine others reading it.

I'm on the fags and drinking unleaded coffee - a vanilla latte.  I use the same syrup as they do in Costas, which I get from Amazon.  I used to be a tea drinker of massive proportions, but quetiapine changes one's tastes, so it's now sweet coffee.  The only time I drink tea is at Kate's when we're having a curry, which we get delivered.  There isn't really an alcoholic drink that I like anymore, which is a bloody shame - I used to love drinking.  Perhaps it's for the best at the moment - drinking makes me uninhibited and I might be tempted to do something stupid.  HT have got most of my tablets, in case I feel at risk, and that's probably for the best.

I'd love an egg banjo, but in deference to Tracy, I won't have one.  I'll have a bowl of cereal instead.  Then I'll psych myself up to write about the RAF.