I just want

I just want it all to stop.
Can't I just have a day off please? A day off from this constant black feeling buried deep inside, swirling around my mind, always there, always reminding me that it won't leave or give up.
Such a mess of a man

Another nice blog...

...from someone else, right HERE!

Sometimes it comes back…

…sprouting up like little black flowers in the ashes of hell.

Very dramatic I know but heck, I’ve got depression so I’m allowing it.

At the moment things aren’t the best, again. It’s at times like these I wonder how and why I carry on. This week I actually had a job interview, of sorts. It was more a display of fitness knowledge and business acumen in a group of about nine of us. I’ve done these days before and it’s usually, best salesperson wins. This time though, I enjoyed it and got a chance to do some fitness related activity as well as business type stuff. There were six slots and out of nine of us and I thought, ‘Yeh, I should get at least to stage two.’  Cue canned laughter. Fat chance son! Glimmer of hope? Not any more, smash grind stomp! There it goes into the ground gone once more. 

So another one passes on by and I took it badly. Very badly. That coupled with everything else lately left me upset, fed up, frustrated and angry. My inner blood God demanded action, demanded a sacrifice and it got on alright. My former scratching post, my right thigh, took it. Annoyingly it wasn’t enough, the cuts and the lack of blood never going far enough, which made me more frustrated so I cut deeper, deep enough to scar and deep enough for my leg to smart considerably when I was done, the rage finally satiated. Blood wise a pathetic little tear of crimson slowly dribbled down. I couldn’t even do that right. After that I led down staring, thinking everything over, thinking how things would never really settle down, how I’d always feel this way and when I finally had some energy to stumble out of bed I felt awful. My body felt awful and my face felt awful, as if all the life had been sucked from it; it felt saggy and heavy as though it was just hanging from my skull like a melting mask of rubber. Oh dear.

Over to you Bill...

Me likey so...

... you should likey too!

Go visit a depressed cartoonist type

Guten Tag!

Hallo deutschen Zuschauer!

Danke für das Lesen und Stoppen von :)

Bitte entschuldigen Sie meine Grundkenntnisse in Deutsch.

Once more with feeling please...

And so it begins again. Down in a hole. Frantically pulling ideas and plans out stacking them high like a mental game of Jenga only for it all to come tumbling down the next day as I hide away in my bed under the life-proof duvet.

This is getting too familiar. The sun is shining outside but its cold as due to the wind gusting and blowing. My brief gym run has now been cut short as I have neither the will, the energy nor the inclination to get up and go. Cups of tea, music and films are about as much as I can muster. Washing and basic stuff have either been forgotten or not bothered with. I can’t be arsed at all with any of it. I have a couple of trips planned next week and I’m already apprehensive about them, will  I make them, will  I want to make them, what if I have to cancel again?!

Confusion reigns with me, before sleep, during it and upon waking. I have no idea what my life is and whether I can either get myself into some sort of direction to proceed with it all. Ack, hate it because I know where this line of thinking will take me. 

Back there, back to seeing orange everywhere....

Numb reprise

The numbness of it all, the numbness to all things, things I liked and loved, they bring me only a dull numbness that is like a tongue that has been burnt by a sip of too hot tea leaving it numb to any taste or sensation for the next few days. With shaky hands and tired mind I can just about lie here and listen or watch. Typing too of course but if I don’t get these words out then they’ll just float around my noggin, free to roam, not settling just being, existing, letting me know that they’re there. They haven’t gone yet and even if you think we have, we haven’t. We’ll always be here, somewhere in the background ready to pounce when we get the chance. Is this malignant sadness, this black how I am now? Is it my defining… thing? I've just texted in to say I can’t make what little work I have on at the moment. Will they get bored of my illness and my calling in because of, ‘a bad day’?

Goodbye blue sky...

Blue Blue Electric Blue that’s the colour of my room...

waiting for sound and vision

Dreams? Odd at the moment, also they seem to be tinged with a certain amount of tension and sadness. It’s probably no coincidence that this is due to my poor attempt to come off my meds. I tried missing out alternate days and this has led me to take the proverbial one step forward two steps back. Recent dream was of my old school friend complaining about something I’d done 8 years previous. He then morphed into a monkey with a hand-grenade, pin was pulled and he then changed into a dog and brought the live grenade back to me. 

I tried to wrench it from his mouth and when I did and threw it away he brought it back. 

It went off nearby when I got it loose again but didn't really do much. I didn't seem that panicky about it either.

Waking up I feel awful right now, kinda like I've had a monster of a gym session followed by an even bigger monster of a CV workout. Then when I've finally awoken I’m anxious, angry and tense, tense and anxious or angry tense and anxious. Oh deary me. Lesson learned there then. Regardless of that I’m now back to where I was trying hard not to let it all collapse around me and let those mind demons run amok let they've just been allowed a day out amongst my head tearing up all my tentative plans for the future and graffiti-ing, ‘No chance! Forever to be this way, Give it up!’ all over my new mind walls of delicate optimism, such as they are. SI is strong as is the odd urge to binge and purge with food. New one that and am not too sure where it has come from. No-one sees itI suppose and it’s fairly concealable up to a point, not like SI that can be detected sometimes. In the name of no-one’s really sure, is this where my head is at now? Think I’ll stuff my face with a warmed up choccy muffin and wash it down with some tea. A nicer gentler way of self inflicted damage I think.