Of the blog. I need to get back to this. It really helps to clear my mind of the scar tissue that builds up. Even if it’s only bitching about stuff. At least it gets out of my head where it can do more damage by stewing in its own juices. On a related note.…

A year ago today I was in crisis and admitted myself to Toronto East General’s H-Wing. To say it’s on my mind today is an understatement. Gonna be one hell of a day to get through. And the weather’s not helping. I suspect the next couple of days are going to be a struggle, but…

Nervous as hell. Stomach churning. Need my lorazepam.

The song was on the radio earlier and it was like I’d heard it for the first time. Strange how things like that happen. I took a sick day today. Was far too stressed out last night and it was making me sick. So an ounce of prevention means Paul doesn’t go bat-shit cray-cray. There…

Manic phase has begun. Technically, it’s been a couple of days. Makes resting harder but on the upside, I’m not curling into a ball on the couch. Also, when I get manic, inspiration comes back. I wrote today. Let’s hope that continues. And I’m here blogging that I wrote, and that I’m feeling manic. I…

It was the best of times, it became the worst of times. Spent the day at the Blue Jay game with L, and even though they lost it was a fun outing. Big thanks to my brother for the tickets; shame he couldn’t have gone, I would’ve enjoyed the game with him too. Fifth row…

Tomorrow I go in for a preliminary assessment prior to booking a new sleep study. I don’t know if my problems sleeping are a direct result of my downswing, or vice versa. I only know I’ve got to explore every option towards getting back to myself. I’m tired of feeling like shit. Tired of doubting…

Today they asked if I’d consider working longer days, or starting later. I can’t. Physically and mentally, I can’t. By the time 8pm hits, I’m already shutting down. And I’ve got 90 minutes still to go.

I’m working on writing every day again. At least I opened up the page tonight and wrote this. It feels wrong that I haven’t. There’s a lot bottled up, and I promised myself this was the uncensored cork-popping, if you want a shitty metaphor. I haven’t given up. I’ve lost the compass at the moment,…

The short answer? No. The slightly longer answer? Fuck, no.