Would you want to see the future, even if you couldn't change it?

Yes and no I guess. I mean, it would be perfectly nice, for me, to see how much more suffering I am to be challenged with. How many more tribulations will beat me down. How many more afflictions I will have to grapple with. How much more of my own sanity I will have to fight for. How much more testing my armour, soul, spirit, heart and mind will endure. How much more of everything, I guess, will I have to take before I get to be - without a shadow of a doubt - okay.

If I should be so blessed to ever be okay. I was going to say "ever be okay again", but I cannot recall ever being okay before, and as such it would be remiss of me to make such an outlandish statement. But yes, If I should be so blessed, I would like to be okay. And in a round-a-bout way, I'd like to know if I would ever reach such a happy medium. I don't want to spent the rest of my life treading water if it comes to no fruit. If I could see my future, I could make the conscious decision to die. Not like have a plan or anything, but just be okay with it. Welcome the eternal rest, that gentle slumber.

If [let me stress that that is indeed an IF and by no means a conscious decision, or even a subconscious one] I should ever go down that path [you don't have to read very far into CFJ to find the last account of a very near decision] I would hope that you would all respect my decision, maybe pray for me, and hope that I find the peace I didn't find here.

I know that on the outside I'm flying high. I purposefully work myself into that state so that I can face a day without questions. To fit in. Avoid that gazes that follow me on a terrible day. I work up so that I'm high as a kite and as long as I concentrate I can hold it. You might catch me, retreating into my thoughts, and losing my grip. That's how you know its an act. If I was as okay as my pretence suggested, I doubt very much that I would ever return to this blog. My posts are infrequent, but there is always so much to digest I'm sure. I actually spend most of the month starting and deleting blogs, agonising over every word, phrase, sentence, paragraph. Is that too much information, was it too vague. Is it better not to say that at all. Should I censor for the benefit of others or show them the cold side of the world. Apparently, I spend a lot of my time considering the opinions of others. I'm not sure why to be honest. I guess I just don't want everyone to know. Everyone to see. People to fear, to hide away. Remove themselves, run. I couldn't do that again. Even now I don't understand the last time, nor will I pretend to. I just allow them to pretend that it's happy families and that it's all okay and never happened. I am, without a shadow of a doubt, over it. I just never got to understand.

I spend my whole life keeping people out, I scarcely know how to let them in. Time and time again they say "you can talk to me about anything", but I wouldn't know how to say I needed to take them up on their offer, let alone to start. And even then I don't think I could scare anyone with my never ending depression. But, at the root of my reluctance to share and seek help, is my confusion as to how. I spend all that time and energy keeping people out, and reshuffling my inner workings to suit my new "defences" that I don't want any of it to be upset. I often wonder if I could handle the shattering of my balance. This is, of course, a relatively new realisation for me. One that came out in a recent conversation with the person who is probably my most trusted friend. Obviously, I am going to ultimately have to seek help, but this inability to operate in a way that encompasses sharing - face to face - is a foreign concept I cannot open myself to. Just now someone I've known awhile inboxed me on Facebook, and we are both feeling crap. But neither of us can concede ground. We cannot share. My pretence is "I don't want to fill your head with my crap", but it is my fear of letting people in that is stopping this. I wonder if it is the same for them.

If I could look into my future, even for a second, I wouldn't want to spoil the probable good times. I wouldn't want to be warned of that. I'd want to experience those experiences for the first time in their exact moment and not before. To be filled with that adrenalin, happiness and excitement. I do not want that diluted, ruined or  refined. The desire to decide life or death is a strong one, but to ruin what good I am yet to discover, if it does actually exist for me... I would rather it encompass me as it occurs. Because in my darkest moments, though they are fleeting and difficult to hold onto, I want all that raw emotion available for me to hold onto for dear life and wish my depression away.

- Sky

As time passes...

I'm more in control now. I went to sleep shortly after I posted that and awoke in tortorous pain that saw me lie awake from 4.30am til 6am, hoping the painkillers would kick in. When they didn't I got up and watched TV, waiting for everyone else to get up. The painkillers kicked in at 8am which is absolutely disgraceful. I never bothered much with the directions for use on the packets, but I bother even less now. If they poison me they poison me. How can my body possibly be harmed more than it already is?

The weekend got better after that. Aside from the near death of my computer that is. I hope to eventually get the damn thing back sometime, hopefully in working order. There's only so many times I can deal with the blue screen of death. Five times in one day is too many. Eight times overall is too many. Hopefully it'll work when it comes back. It's been nothing but trouble the shit of a thing. Bloody Toshiba's...

But yes, the weekend did get better. I slept better Sunday night. Played N64 on Monday afternoon, worked Tuesday for a few hours before making my way to Flemington at the beautiful hour of 8.20am to strap a horse. Biggest day of my strapping career, was awesome, had a blast, wouldn't trade that experience for a thing. And I mean that. Because you know I live for racing. If I had my way my life would revolve around it. And the fun and games rolled over into Wednesday when I took my special mare to the races for her to run fourth.

And it was back to school today. Back to the high stress, high pressure environment I loathe so much. I've discussed my feelings in this particular area at great length recently and I do not feel compelled to go into any further depth as there's only so much one can say, but the way the weekend went only reinforced my hate for school. I'm done. No more. Can it just be over now? Please?

I really have, without a question of doubt, had enough. Completely and entirely had enough of school. Well, of nearly everything, but mostly school. I'm also starting to worry. Roaccutane is right around the corner now. Have I made the right choice? Why am I doubting now? I suppose it has a bit to do with feeling unstable enough as it is. But why do I doubt myself so now? Surely after the year I've had I could hold it together better than I currently am? Am I just run down and tired? I'm hoping that that's it, that that's the reason and that when I start resting again it'll all be okay. I can hope right? Everyone can hope, but hope can be deadly when its dragged on too long.

I guess I'm just scared at the moment. There are never any guarantees in life, but the future I can guarantee less than I could ever guarantee before. That just seems scary to me.

- Sky