Christmas cheers and goodwill to all.............

I lasted two hours in town shopping before everyone started staring at me. I recognised the problem and left...it had been building up for an hour so I had a good hour shopping, buying too much on the credit card then having a sandwich and tean in M&S. A girl in front have maxxed out her card so I paid for hers. I felt useful. Lots of smiles all round so the £3.50 was a small price to pay. Heavy bags afterwards did not help. Any feeling of discomfort blows up into an emergency of truly Herculean proportions. The shopping throngs all minding their own business however you become convinced they are starting at you. Only you. Is it your hair? Your skin? Your dress sense? Are you being followed? Is it pickpockets. Keep double checking the wallet and the phone, deeply ensconced in overfull jeans pockets. Run. Slowly. Escape. The car is a place of safety. I sit alone and breathe slowly. The panic subsides and I leave. 

Once home the toilet calls again. IBS uncontrolled by a poor diet rules the roost these days. Repeat colonoscopy looms. Paranoia. The usual daytime trip. The dishes callout but I leave them as the are a barrier to freedom. They will build up again until I can jump that hurdle then feel content with a job accomplished no matter how small. Presents then, overwhelming but it is a task now done. Organisation is the enemy of my anxiety and occasionally it asserts itself. Presents now bagged and labelled. Presents listed by name. Time to work out who needs what? No-one NEEDS anything however this is Christmas. That time of joy and goodwill to all men. Unless, maybe, you were one of those unfortunates in the Berlin Xmas market yesterday. What mindset hampers the growth of man? We go backwards again. The 1% grin and take their tolls. We are but cogs as always. 

In 4 days the festivities start. Christmas Eve for German friends and the following morning for me. What price the Xmas remorse once the bills are in again? 2015 bills still lie on the 0% credit card. 5 more months then the sword of Damocles falls. We live, we breathe, we die. In between we fill the gaps one way or another and hope we do it well. Breathe well and slow. Count those breaths. They are high in number however not endless. Appreciate each one and feel the stress leave on the outward journey.

Until the next time..........

Oblivion and darkness calls........

When does one first crave the freedom of the black pit of eternal oblivion? We come from nothing and return to nothing with a 'four score and ten' in between.....we don't ask for this and we do nothing to deserve this 'gift' of life. What becomes of those aborted souls and the potential lives that have never reached conception? Is every male ejaculate a doom filled spurt of incessant impossibilities? Each woman's period the same? We create the stuff for life and off it goes without reaching purpose. Orgasm. That little death. Is there therefore a dimension of spirits awaiting release? Filled with the pangs of jealousy that our own 'lottery winning' achievement of a life has given them? Do they ever achieve life and become either the successful goal searching individuals that shine within the light of humanity? Or do they become the searching individuals, those that never know their place...those for whom distrust, anxiety and depression is a daily companion.....a life shaping feeling of constant doom laden reflection? We have but one life.......if we end it do we join the queue to reincarnate ourselves for another chance in the lottery of birth? Another scratch card with infinitesimal chance of success? We are what we are......we are what we make of ourselves....the only one who can change you is you.....yes, I've heard them all. My companion in thought....must do better......must commit to the plan....must, must, must..... Where is the peace I cry out for? The drugs that calm my palpating heart, the shakes of the hands, the tremors in the throat as I meet a stranger passing by....is he the one? Why would he be the one? Is she the one? Why would she be the one? Passengers on a  tiny floating orb in the eternal cosmos......we shall be dust as are those before us? Who will remember my name in a thousand years? A thousand? Maybe grandchildren will remember my name if they appear. So, a hundred years? Will I live on? Do I have the same desire to live on in perpetuity as brave Achilles? I remember my mother's father but not my father's. He died the year I was born so he does not live on to any great extent within me.....a few memories passed on regarding his working life, pictures of his home where he brought up my father and his three brothers. Beyond that very little.....My mother's father I remember very well as I grew up with him a constant companion over weekends throughout my childhood. Would I return to that happy non-committal time? A freedom of sorts as the knowledge of the dredge of future life was not even imagined......would we swap our present for a replay of the past? Imagine the chance and then the realisation that once you were back there you could not change anything.... you are now a passenger within a movie..... everything the same....pre-ordained....karma. The same mistakes again. Would it be worth it? Or are we already travelling that path in a cosmic, ever-searching cycle of an almost altruic attainment of perfection? One life. One journey. Make of it what we can. Stay on the bus. Which bus? Down to you. To me. Timetables are changeable once you decide they can change. Or should that be 'are timetables changeable once you decide they can change'? Move the 'are' and we change the world.

One step forward, two steps back.......

It is a strange feeling being unable to work out whether you are totally insane or maybe just a little depressed...my two steps back last week creeped up on me without my realising it was happening...sitting with my counsellor I could see and feel her disappointment that the work we had been doing had unravelled to a large extent....when I left she looked possibly more down that I did. An analysis of issues seemed to show I hate myself and put closed doors in front of progress....a paranoid fear of moving in the right direction. Too much too soon? Smaller bites maybe...homework is to work on two areas by which I can move forward...outside that shrinking comfort zone that has become my safety blanket for so long......having finally escaped an abusive marriage I should be climbing up out of that miasma of rabbit-like nervousness.....one step forward. 

I score high on most autism tests and certainly feel Asperger's has been a companion of sorts throughout my life...early worrying about returning parents leading to regimented prayers that had to list the whole family.....the counting to twenty-five for no obvious reason...if interrupted it had to start again. The arguing against the bad thoughts always in 3s. The bad thoughts coming from nowhere and having to be shouted out......only recently have they quietened...now held in temporary check by increasing levels of anti-depressants.....the doctor believe they should be increased again....who knows....? Certainly not me. 

Heavy weight materialises out of the blue and starts it's familiar downward movement on my chest. Still a daily occurrence and the need to retreat from reality arrives with alacrity....

There is a basic autism test here;

http://mindchecker.channel4.com/test-autism.html

The first step in any journey...............

........is a long one made up of short thoughts and paranoia. How to conquer the doorway to the outside world without immersing oneself in the total despair of the anxious soul? I often think it is easier to stay behind the front door and watch the world through a spyhole.......there is no confrontation that way....the meeting of strangers that strikes the chord of discontent from within and grows to a maddeningly loud resonance echoing around confines of the troubled mind...that crazed mental shout of 'NO'!! Silence. Peace. Surrender. Barrier. Retreat. Close the door and hide.

This is an attempt at a journey into my psyche. A personal notepad or maybe dashboard to gather thoughts and express feelings.....easily done when walking in a daze through streets of shadows and alien images but more difficult when sitting and trying to formulate those images into the written form....digression and lackadaisicallity are constant soulmates fighting the creative urge......I shall try harder.....memories of 'must try harder' and 'has ability however rarely shows it' intrude as usual upon attempts of moving forward. Far easier indeed to stay in the same place...that fabled comfort zone of modern speak.....stretch oneself and explore new pathways. Easier said than done. Close the book and drink tea...retreat to bed and the comfort zone of duvet and sleep......darkness, quiet, peace.

Real world intrusion. More later.