Here I am again - I thought I'd manage to sleep through tonight, but the Imp of Wakefulness had other ideas. I woke at midnight but got back to sleep, but this time I'm wide awake. I don't know what I'd do without this blog to keep me going - it's been so cathartic and has transferred the bad stuff from me to it. My hands itch again tonight and I can't find the Eumovate, so I've Steamcreamed them instead. I was in the middle of an apocalyptic dream, with the end of the world in sight, and in which I had to get to Canada via a huge cliff in Turkey. It was very hot in the dream and I woke to discover I was hemmed in by cats.
I didn't eat much apart from the burger yesterday - only biscuits and a piece of cheese - and I'm hungry now. When I was ill, I'd make myself an egg banjo, but I don't think I'll do that now. I'll have another coffee instead.
I wonder about dreams - some people think they are meaningful and can be analysed, and others think they are caused by random firing neurons. I often dream about being on a boat at sea - Jungians would tell you that the sea represents the unconscious and that I'm trying to get in touch with mine. I suppose I think that dreams sometimes have meaning, but are mostly to help the brain sort out stuff and put it in some sort of order. Who knows?
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?