The day where I’d leave Melbourne and return to the country approached. I had teed up the new caravan to rent. I had teed up transport. I bought doonas, heaps of hot water bottles and a bag full of heat packs so I was better prepared for the cold, all while unwell. I kept waking up to a peculiar hammering. It was usually just a few bangs and then would stop for a while. One day, I heard three bangs, the number which I seemed to be seeing everywhere. I read a very scary post on social media once where someone reported hearing three knocks on her door at night. Another member said that it was demons and her death would be imminent. The number three is a very significant number spiritually, as seen in the Holy Trinity. I was convinced the number meant something. In fact I was convinced everything meant something, that there was hidden signs and meaning in the light flickering, the smoke detectors malfunctioning, etc. Continue reading “The psychotic descent continues: part 2”
I don’t see the point in me being in the city right now. I’m too unwell to see friends. I’m too unwell to play badminton, and don’t know if I can ever show my face there again after pissing my pants on the court. My physio doesn’t seem to want to see me until things settle down with my housing, which may take a while. I don’t have a job here. I basically don’t have a life here, and am just spending my days wasting away in bed. Without any structure I lose sense of what day it is. I am simply existing outside of time, no longer part of the world around me. Continue reading “Psychotic descent”
hsphaven 