Trip to Givet to buy stuff. Food. A pair of black lacquered Fila hightops. Healthy food. Always healthy food. No sugar, no dairy, no meat. Fish is ok. Fish is cold and almost dead anyway. It looks dead. Of course it’s not. But I have to eat something. I barely eat at all. I nibble. I start to nibble at around 1pm, then I nibble the reste of the day. Always the fucking ashwagandha too. You feel less anxious, less on edge. Less fearful. I’m crippled by my fear. I know fear is the mind-killer and it does kill mine. Makes it scream inside, searching for deliverance. I think about suicide a lot, how it would end my suffering. And yet I’m also curious. Because there is still so much to do, to create and witness and feel. Everything I see moves me so deeply it’s almost painful, unbearable. It’s exhilarating but it exhausts me, drains my soul. Lifts me up into heaven and dumps me into hell ten minutes later.
I’m looking for a new psychiatrist. Someone who could finally understand how I feel inside. And write it down, so that I have proof of my suffering. To tell my father, hey, I have a mental disorder, just as you always feared and I’ve always been ill, right under your noses from the very beginning. But no-one cared to see it, to listen. Some teachers tried to alert my parents but they just laughed it off. I was too good in school, too smart. Crazy, nan. Not crazy. A bit weird maybe, excentric, but nothing more. That put me into a cage. That stupid fear my parents had of mental disease. And I’m still sitting in the bloody cage, I don’t dare to blow it up. Fucking brain. Or fecking. That has an even better sound to it. Irish. Fecking wired brain.
My sister says I have an awesome processor built in there, but I don’t know how to use it properly. I fork constantly. A brain the size of a planet. Yeah. What a planet.
Planet of the apes
I’m tired of feeling like I’m fucking crazy
I’m tired of driving ’til I see stars in my eyes
All I’ve got to keep myself sane, baby
So I just ride, I just ride
I hear the birds on the summer breeze,Lana Del Rey
I drive fast, I am alone in midnight
Been tryin’ hard not to get into trouble,
But I, I’ve got a war in my mind
I just ride, just ride