17.04.14 (Day 116)
Across the universe. In the inter-galactic ship Ghost Bird under Captain Lucard.
But that’s another story for another time. As is Chapter Three of the second of two books, two short stories, at least two poems and a comic strip; all of which are outlined and planned for writing but all of which I’ve not gotten around to yet. It’s not like I don’t have time – I’m awake for 20 hours a day – but less than 24 hours ago, I’d reached what I thought might be the end. I keep a record of everything, with little witheld, for the benefit of my mental assessment and so that I can look back upon it and wonder. Here’s the remainder of what I wrote yesterday:
I did my best. I was trying.
One less problem for “Them”: the shadows of the past and the ghosts in the machine.
I never liked the life I was forced into. Few helped; few understood and just gave up, as I’m about to. With a smile inside, knowing that I did right.
A lot of people out here will bear witness to my descent: not into alcoholism but into despair. One less statistic just got killed off.
This was the story of my life. I told you I was ill.
Captain’s Log, Supplementary
And then I got better, such is the nature of manic depression. Help arrived.
In just under two hours, one of the cavalry will be taking me to Tunbridge Wells.
The last entry was indeed going to be the last. But I’ve been thrown a lifeline, which I’ve grabbed. A potential new life awaits, at last. I just hope that I’m not getting ahead of myself, setting myself up for another fall (from not such a great height as the last one) or counting my eggs before they hatch. And despite progress and the fact that I used to love weekends and bank holidays when I was on the other side, now I hate them and Easter stands between me and ongoing progress.
Whatever awaits at the end of this part of the journey may not be much but it will be more than I have at the moment. It will be nothing compared to what I had before but I let all of that go. All of that must fade into the past, like the shadows. The ghosts. I still have things to sort out here before I go: the physical move is one but I’ve decided that I’ll leave all of my things behind – as I have in other places I’ve moved on from – and let someone know where everything is so that it can be donated to a worthy cause. Shelter will probably be the benefactor of my clothes and other belongings. It’s a new start and I can acquire new things. Even now, I have someone acquiring new clothes for me. Fortunately, she’s the same size as me, so I don’t even need to be there while she makes the acquisitions. I need to find a home for Whoopi (my rescue rat) and before she goes, I’ll post photos of her online, for my own memories if nothing else. I’ll also take and post pictures of Gilbert House. One of my future charity projects was going to benefit Shelter as they have me. Thinking of how the project might fit the cause, I thought perhaps I’d spend a night homeless. Get the irony.
19.04.14 (Day 118)
As with so many things in this life, I’m limited by the time afforded me by the library (one hour per day). Before I go though, despite this weekend being a shit, I’m looking forward to breakfast with my mum and dad in church tomorrow. I’m grateful to all of my friends who’ve recently accepted me and sought me out via various media. I’m not grateful at all to the Post Office for losing the package which I spent £45 on, sent to my children and because the Post Office computers were down, I was unable to get proof of postage for.
I’m off to the park now, to hang around and be deemed inappropriate. Good job I’ve got my dog. And my rat.