A blog entry.

The last few weeks have been so too much for me. I've constant anxiety over the things I cannot control. Like when I have to start to go back to the job where they don't really want me,, but have to take me because of rules.

So I give things a try because my sister Maj has been coming around, or my friend Marsha, getting me to leave my flat for a few hours, and I've done that and afterwards just sitting here, wondering how I ever will get my energies up.

I am thinking maybe a visit to my doctor again, to check my vitamin levels again, because there is a non-stop need of rest and it's getting to me so much. It's like my life is over and yet it continues.

My therapy has been on a break as my therapist is on holiday. She of course, doesn't know the level of craziness I am going through lately. Not daring to open a window or the door to the outside at all has made the air I breath stuffy and awful. The idea or those rats coming in through the cracks of something that I haven't seen...

Next appointment is the 29ths.

I had done some progress, and really I have done progress, it's just that it is so fucking exhausting.

I can't sleep at night, and through the night I wake up in cold sweat and anxiety so heavy that it is hard to calm down and go back to sleep. So I don't wake up until between twelve and two and today it was nearly two and my anxiety levels are over the roof.

I am not really good company for anyone so I avoid calling anyone, and this sounds crazy - if it isn't a call where it got to do with my book. I am so enthralled in this project. I am not writing half as much as it sounds, no, change that, I am only writing about 1 % of what anyone would think I'd write. I am collecting material and changing and re-changing my mind on what to do. The book is happening and will be happening. It's just going to take a whole lot more time than I had thought it would.

Seriously, I am dumb enough to think that it would take me a couple of months to write this book of mine. Well, it will be more like two years.

I wake up in the night, sweating, almost screaming because of the anxiety, and yet I manage to think of ideas for my book, sentences that has to be in there, and I haven't done anything with it, until tonight around 5 am, when I just had to get it out of my head, so I recorded it on my phone. It's probably useless, but I'll do that from now I think, just to not keep it stuck in my head.

There are so many stories though, in this book. It's the story of the main characters, and the ones before them.

And then there are stories of these people, the ones from the cult-parts. And the more I find out, the more these peoples voices need to come out and be fair. And for me, often, rather scary.

And also, to make things worse for myself in a way, I really need a new pair of glasses, and I can't make an appointment because I don't dare to take the tube and the glasses place that I prefer is in town.

It's all so fucking difficult and I am so tired of it.

Yeah, so this is a complaining post. Never mind.

I think people in general (my family and friends) think that I am super busy all the time, as they don't hear from me, but it's not true, I just am in hiding because I feel so crap.

Okay for now, bye bye.