I feel a little sick when I think too hard today. Really. Since I woke up it's been a constant effort to distract myself from the one or two things which have made themselves bold in my mind, and while it's worked for the most part, I can tell that they are there. Physical things I can normally do, like songs I can normally play, have become harder or impossible in parts. On the one hand it's remarkable to consider that how the mental can affect the physical so strongly, but on the other it's frustrating and a little scary. And this is partnered by the sad fact that I've come to accept this as how it is. Rise and fall, and keep falling til you stop and start to climb again, with no one to really help you because they're all at the peak watching cluelessly, and you can't really shout for help because it's them you're climbing for, and if you really show how much you need their help they might go on without you. It feels like walking around in a bubble, and someone is slowly pumping the air out until theres nothing to breathe.

Fuck, I wish it was simpler to articulate the mess that's in my head sometimes. Like, I wish I could just paint a canvas a certain colour, and say 'thats how I feel', and have people understand completely. Thats the way. All the problems I find with this stupid 'hold-on-you're-talking-about-not-being-able-to-talk' thing, and the cowardice which gets further compounded by this backhand way of delivery, they would all be gone if only I could paint a colour, or create a sound, to show everyone what it is I waste so much time and so many words struggling to say.

Fuck.