Day 52

 Day 52. Hi. I’m encountering a few problems with the blogging process. Nothing ever goes swimmingly, does it? If it’s not one thing, it’s another. I’m unable to format the text in Google Blogger, so I’m having to do it in Microsoft Word. It’s not the end of the world, but it’s got me thinking. I couldn’t start blogging from scratch, all over again. I’d be unable. I can’t even create an email account. I’ve had emails for years, but since it got hacked (ever since I left my profile open on a porn site), I’m encountering real problems. The moral is be grateful for what you’ve got, because you just don’t know when you’re going to lose it forever. As long as I can get a few words up each week, then that will have to do me.

I’m encroaching in on a block, I feel; a writing block. I may be jumping the gun (as I was with my career prospects), but I really sense some kind of rut coming.  It’s quite difficult to blog if all you’re mainly doing is penning about recovery, and trying to keep it real. What is there left to say? I’ve had a good year on the blog, after several away, posting on average about three times a week. Considering I’ve got no life whatsoever, I’ve had a good stab at saying something meaningful. It’s not easy. All my major psychosis events are dealt with – I could go into them a lot more – but I think I might take a back seat from blogging and try and write a book. I might even put the book online, for my readers to read. It would be a shame to stop now that I’ve got a couple of numbers trickling in. It’s taken me years and years to get this far.

Like I say though, I fear I may be burning out. I’ve mentioned the voices; I’ve mentioned the hallucinations; I’ve mentioned the supernatural pornography. But the fight still remains. I’m getting the aberrant thought process in my head saying: Buy 30 fast! (speed). 30 pounds worth of the fast stuff will sort you right out matey… But I know where that will end, with me cryin’ on my mattress, pleading with God to stop me sufferin’. When I could have stopped it myself in the first place by not using. It’s Day 52 in The Rarefied Atmosphere challenge, and I’m winning big time. But I know that I’m only one wrong footfall away from losing big time. One wrong step, and it all comes crashing down about my arse. I’ll be right back down to Day 0 and the numbers don’t lie, despite how much I’ll try and kid myself that I still feel fine. I know that I won’t. It’s tough, and it’s the same every time. I get bored of being clean, and desire an oil change in the head region. I get complacent. I’m just trying to dig in deeper and not let it happen this time, to try and find some strength from somewhere.