DEPENDENCY

I feel pretty good at the moment, I sense that I am improving. There has been a couple of occasions when I have forgotten to take my medication on time & if it's in the morning pretty soon the tension builds & the stomach starts to hurt. Now I believe that I have a pretty high pain threshold but two things I cannot stand are 1) headaches & 2) Nausea. I have been at the train station twice now & vomited unexpectedly on the platform as a result of nausea. There is apparently nothing wrong with my digestive system - it is the anxiety. It's like there is a great churning chasm inside me, a sleeping dog just waiting to be stirred.

Apparently symptoms similar (but much worse) are what drove Kurt Cobain to suicide, he is also widely reported as having had Bipolar. I wrote the following words during one of my stomach episodes - the knots; the bloating; the burning....it's just awful. It is also a metaphor for how I feel about other people when I am in a depressed & anxious state, I can become extremely irritable & intolerant - pain can do that. Its awful to think that your mind can project all this onto your physical self.

I have stomach problems
Find lots of foods hard to tolerate
Can’t have nothing too fancy
Stuff that tastes great but takes a gazillion years to digest
Nothing too ‘complex’
It needs to be kept simple
As close to its natural state as possible
None of these additives
Or traces of any other shit picked up on the production line
Cause I have stomach problems you know….

#2 PLASTIC

The next dream that frequents me the most is what I call the 'plastic’ dreams in which organic matter turns to plastic. This usually consists of people turning to plastic & the earth beneath my feet turning to plastic. They mostly take place on a seashore (it’s strange but the ocean itself is one thing that never changes form), & I am on a small strip of sand. I am trying desperately to climb a cliff face to get to the top - away from the raging waters, but I keep falling back down. The plastic gets wet from the sea water and becomes slippery, making it impossible for me to get a grip. This dream is usually so vivid with its arbitrary use of colour – the ocean a fierce purple the rock face a myriad of bright primary colours: yellows, reds & blues, like it’s made out of Lego.

I often wondered what it’s all about – authenticity perhaps.
but who's - the worlds, or mine?