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photography, Kitti, art, me, kink

Kitti, the Unstoppable Hex Machine

...and a rock feels no pain, and an island never cries...

What now then?
So... back to LJ I come.

After the immense high of finding a brilliant man, and loving him... and the absolute luck of him loving me back... I fear this is the start of the comedown.

I'm finding it increasingly difficult to deal with my surroundings, not least at work. It seems if people are generally ok and nice to me, then I can get on without too much trouble. As soon as anything remotely negative happens, however... It ruins everything: My mood, my entire outlook, I start getting down again and wondering what the point is to anything. I start looking out to sea and think "would it really be so bad if I did just walk out there, leave my clothes on the shore, and let Her take me.

Of course, I catch myself doing this and remind myself to what extent I would ruin the lives of rather a lot of people if I were to act upon this thought... or so I remember people saying, at one point. True solitude is achieved when sitting in a room filled with people who once professed to love you (or at least like you enough to be called a "friend") and feel the loneliest you've ever felt. At least loneliness when one is alone is normal.

Last night I walked for 2 miles, in the early hours of the morning, with no coat, in the pouring rain. I felt nothing. Well... I felt like crying but I couldn't even do that - I guess it's true that tears are wasted in the rain. I didn't feel cold or wet or unhappy or angry or even annoyed that I was getting wet and my hair would be ruined. Nothing.

This morning is much the same... except that I'm rather afraid to leave the house. I'm scared of behaving like a looney at work. I'm more afraid of flipping out completely and just starting a run toward the sea again. Her pull is getting harder, stronger, and I'm having to stop myself thinking about it more and more frequently.

I suppose it's all very well, me typing all this out - I should be telling a doctor or something, right? Well that would be brilliant if I could get anyone to listen to me. I've spoken to all the Doctors at my surgery and they all think that it is my insomnia that causes these emotions - couldn't possibly be the other way around, could it? Fuckers.

I've no idea what to do... apart from carry on. I guess that's all anyone can do.