Sunday Night....

... and SO tired.

I had an invite to go and see my good friend Andy and his family today. They don't know that much about my double life - I can't face telling them all that. But they know I am being treated for depression and they kindly offered to go for a walk in the countryside with them. They are 5 miles away, the longest I have driven since on the happy pills, it was far enough! I was quite panicky. But it was nice to see them and we had a very good walk through woods and around lakes, it was nice to talk about something other than me me me (I realised today just how self centred I am). But as we walked round I felt the panic setting in again and a kind of wobbly feeling. Odd. We walked for a good hour and a half which was exercise I needed, fed the ducks and watched their children climb trees and scrape knees and do all the usual things.

When you are in a bad place like this you learn to value these short times of pleasure and peace, even though i didn't feel totally at peace inside.

I left them at 7 and came home feeling very weird despite the good day. (I just have to remember how much worse I would have felt if I had stayed in). Having eaten I took my happy pill, sat down to watch TV and had a real sense there was something in my head. Demons, up to no good. Paranoia? Maybe. I had my head in my hands, scratched at my skin with my nails (no blade handy) and tried to wrestle with whatever it was. Weird. I gave up watching TV and got on with some music, I have mixed down some masters of a number of tracks now. I was actually very productive, but the music is emotionally intense and I feel drained now.

So I find I have a dilemma. I am in great emotional and spiritual pain. Very confused, panicky and paranoid, yet somehow I seem to produce my best music in this state. Like my very soul has to be tortured before music can be made. Or is it that I make the music as a way of trying to describe to the world what I am feeling and perhaps somehow let what ever it is out of me.

I know I know, I am not making sense am I. But there is no sense to this at all. If any part of my body hurts I know where the hurt is but when the spirit hurts, the soul, the mind, the very things I assess and relate to the world with cease to function correctly who knows what sense is anymore. Who knows what is rational? The very things I use to assess the pain are in pain which is a paradox I can't unravel.

Sorry for being so baffling
Alice