Ploddin' On

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Just found myself an hour long window between SMART and AA. Dom is sharing in AA, she has an extremely strong powerful message, almost too extremely strong and powerful, if you know what I mean. She’s very individualistic and wears her heart on her sleeve. I’m just thinking that it may be too serious for a Wednesday afternoon.

It makes a change from toxic liars though. The people in Warrington recovery, when they aren’t been two-faced slanderers, are very approachable.

I get a month’s worth of money on Friday, enough for a phat bag of coke. I’m thinking enough for twenty decent lines. Wow, imagine how my brain is currently protesting about that eventuality! Why can’t he buy twenty bottles of water for a change? I’d be stupid if I chose that option, however, as I want to try and finally value the things that I have going for me, such as writing and public speaking and music and cooking and generally being out the house in fair non-paranoid spirits. Going to a meeting with sturdy personalities like Dom flaunting her wares, after a comedown, would be near impossible; even opening the patio can be an ordeal, or putting the bins out, or doing a recce around the gangland neighbourhood, to make sure no criminality is taking place, which, unfortunately, it always is.

Her tremendous energy would scorch my shame and make me feel small.

That’s why so many people hate me, I understand, because I make them feel them small, so they say. So, when I suffer with backsliding psychotic regression, they big themselves up by treating me like a doormat.

Stop squirting your smallness all over me!

I’ve had a good year so far, in all, ever since I survived the ‘neuromodulation suite’ at Christmas. There was a computer through a gap in the toilet behind a wall. Says it all really. So secretive and sly. I hope you never find yourself detained without hope of freedom in one of those suites, they’re nasty. Makes you wonder who is who.

New Year’s Eve was a special one, as I took myself out to watch the fireworks on the canal bridge. It is hard to describe how I perceived the flying, thrusting, hanging, floating missiles in the timely night sky…just great. It made me think of being inside a firework, when they seem to wobble just before explosion. I love that little suspended wobble they do, it’s inspiring.

All too lately in recent times, on New Year’s Eve, I’ve stayed in and missed out on them. They come to you, of course, audibly, but it’s so much more satisfying to lay eyes on.

I skipped the relapse in my share today, and just spoke positively. About recent growth and change, about overcoming panic attacks of crushing anxiety, about looking inward for strength. The facilitator gabbed on about his usual thoroughfare of people, places and things: thoughts, feelings and behaviours. That’s all it ever seems to be about. Hearing people share is nice though, you always learn something, much better than watching the box.