July 17th

 Doing better again. I seem to be climbing out of the hole at last.

No great reason why.

My health has stabilised somewhat - albeit early hours of the morning my stomach turned over really nauseous.. but I slept it off. My mood has.. eh.. it's still very likely clinically depressed. But. I'm ok with it. Stable. My mind is somewhat skipping off down dark paths if I let it. I don't feel kindly inclined towards people at the moment. At least. Those people that can't be arsed. Which I understand. But at the same time. Fuck you buddy. But I have to let it go. I am being too unforgiving, it happens rarely when I come out of a stormy patch. I think it's something to do with anger and left to muddle through alone. Something along the lines of, thanks for the help, and fuck you. Before inevitably my peaceful side just takes it in stride as people being people and the way of the world.

I dunno.

Haven't done a lot. Pottered around and did some cleaning. Which. Is pretty phenomenal with regards to state of mind. It means I must be doing a lot better.

I am still in a very.. weird.. mood / state. I feel like isolating hardcore. Just. Push everyone away. Or. Most everyone. I often sit and daydream about just disappearing. I go through the steps. The plan. How would you erase your trail. Sell the house into a bank account. Move the money to an untracked account. Travel. Change name. Pop up somewhere else, money in hand. Erase all your digital fingerprints. Start again. Or possibly not. Just stay off the radar. Potter around. Then jump off a bridge.

Nice.

For it to truly work, I'd have to move country. Probably get some fake documents and get started on citizenship.

Of course it's mostly - kinda - nonsense. Kinda.

And no matter how far I run, I can never outrun myself.

Still.

There is something about it. About dropping and leaving everything behind me, all the people that subtly or not so subtly either use or abuse me. Baggage dropped. Slate cleaned. Goodbye fuckers.

I dunno. I can't get an objective viewpoint on it. I suspect I'm being somewhat of an ass. And a bit of a upset grouch. Or perhaps it's a reasonable response to boundaries being abused. No clue.

I had yet another dream about Ares last night.

A super lucid dream. One where I could read. I was reading a fast updating book at one point. I could clearly make out the words and pictures - and remembered them after. But somehow. Ares was in there. He was back. I knew not to question it. He'd come back. Enough said.

I thought about taking a picture of him and sending it to someone. And then imagined their response. But wait. This isn't real ? I burst into tears. This isn't a dream right ? It's not a dream. This is reality ? I was assured it wasn't a dream. But my sadness had popped. He wasn't really back.

The dream shifted. I woke up much later.

It was a dream after all, and Ares is still gone.

Jeez. I really clutch onto loss. Fucked me up good and proper. It's nearly one year since I lost him. And clearly my sub conscious is still not ok with it. Still a screaming crying mess.

On the other hand.

There's that much love. That's how deep it runs.

I am not really built for this world. Death sucks.

Eh well.

Honestly. I am doing better overall. Last few days I have settled a little. And feel a lot more stubbornly independent. Stronger by myself. Fuck the world. Just an illusion. Bullshit. But eh. My mind is still finding its legs in stormy seas. There maybe some seasickness. I am only a flawed human trying shittily to do their best.