So what if I'm not asleep? I can always rest tomorrow. I bet I won't be saying that at 0300 if I'm still here. Kate is coming over and bringing supper tomorrow as we're not going to London. I couldn't face it - mostly the thought of being trapped on a long train journey, and then not sleeping in someone else's house where I couldn't get up and write/smoke/drink. We were going to have tea at the Park Lane hotel then go on to the theatre to see Ibsen's "A Doll's House". When Kate and I go to London we have two traditions - to drink cocktails at Dirty Martini's in Covent Garden, and to have breakfast at the cafe in the Royal Festival Hall. We then get the train home. We're mostly in London to go to the Royal Opera House and see productions there - it's expensive, but quite wonderful. I love opera - used to hate it, but I get it now.
Having fags helps me to write - or cigarettes if you're American. I don't think you say fag in the same way that we do. I gave up for 2 years and started again, which was stupid, but I've been smoking ever since. I did give up for 16 days a couple of years ago, but went manic and had to be admitted to hospital for 3 weeks. Apparently nicotine inhibits the absorption of some drugs, so when I stopped, I was getting too much antidepressant, hence the mania. So I'm a bit sceptical about giving up now.
I think about death quite a lot, even when I'm well. At the moment, the thoughts are my constant companions. When I'm well, I wonder about the manner of my death - will it be quick and painless, or long and drawn out? I tell people that I'm not scared of death, but deep down inside I am. When I'm ill, it doesn't frighten me at all. Which is scary in itself, as I won't have the fear to stop me killing myself. I'm safe at the moment and have said I'll say if I become unsafe - HT have my drugs anyway.
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?