Katie

 

I’m between books at the moment, meaning that my divine right to finish the current story I am telling is under threat. Usually, God will protect writers who are in the middle of a story, because each author has a sacred honour to finish it. I’m not too sure if he actually does protect us, to be honest, I’ve kind of made that bit up, but it wold be nice if it were true, wouldn’t it? Still, I know I would be rather writing than not writing, that’s for sure, to garner some of that holy protection I’ve imagined to be correct.

This blog is the only thing I’m penning. I’ve even stopped my daily dairy. I don’t put much volume of work into the diary, but just little footnotes of what have happened to me throughout the day. A child’s smile, a robin, stuff like that. Little beautiful reminders. And of course the mundane stuff, like what I might have had for dinner or something. What I’m missing especially is noting down my astral experiences (dreams). They are soo awesome! I can’t frickin’ believe them! They need to be in the memory, for ever. I swear, I’m going to have to start jotting brief details of what happens in the dream-world down, just to jog the memory from time to time.

I’ve just met a scar girl gothic named Katie in my Positive Thoughts group at Pathways. She was really attractive, just my type, like Winona Ryder. She read out a teary poem which drew me towards her a lot. I told her I was a schizophrenic addicted to porn who endures psychosis. She seemed fine with it. That was good with me. She’s got ADHD and OCD and physical ailments and anxiety. I could really look after a poor girl like that, with all my mental health experience. We’d have good chemistry if only we were given the time and space to develop it. I would have liked to ask her for a drink in the pub together. But maybe I’m a lone wolf who’s destined to walk alone. Any old way, it was nice to see fresh young talent in the group. Sound like a perv there don’t I!?

I’m glad my latest bout of psycho-time is over. I never need to hear voices again for as long as I live. I decree, I can’t keep putting up with them. They’re too destructive to my will and my resilience. They wear me down piece by meaty piece; they tear me apart. I’m uneasy, on edge, paranoid, all of it. I feel like I’m constantly being chewed up by something, spat out, stamped on, and re-chewed again once more, over and over, all throughout the day is long.

Please protect me Lord. I promise I’ll do my best from now on to abstain from wicked practices. With your guidance, I will succeed. Grant me the power and the glory which comes from your son and all the holy saints. Amen x