I’ve managed to drag myself out of bed and even to shower and eat. I’m watching Horizon and you know, I’m feeling a bit weepy. I think maybe I’ve been pushing myself a bit hard recently, which I’m quite proud of, but it’s not healthy for me, or in fact probably anyone. As I type this I actually have a journal article open that I’m going to read through tonight, so I’m kinda still working. I suppose I’m trying to be “normal”.

Anywho, I figure the stress basically sent me hypomanic and now I’m crashing. It’s one of those days that I really hate being mad. I’ve moved on, via a documentary about Jutland to Louis Theroux’s By Reason of Insanity in which he’s talking to people in a psychiatric hospital in Ohio. This probably isn’t the best thing for me to be watching; right now he’s talking to a man with schizo-affective bipolar disorder who beat his mum to death because Satan told him to.

I seem to have colonised the dining room. The past few weeks I’ve spent so much time down here rather than in my room. I think maybe I like the light. In here I can sit in the bay by the patio doors and work with my back to the garden. In my room I kinda sit sideways on and somehow it always feels as if it lacks privacy. Also it’s quiet. Quiet seems to have taken on much importance for me in the last couple of months, as has just sitting. I like to just sit, maybe with a mug of lapsang souchong somewhere quiet and just think.


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