When Winston Churchill spoke of depression he said it was like a black dog at the edge of his vision. All this stuff with my father is clearly having an effect on me, people are talking to each other about me and saying things like 'I'm worried about him' I know this because every now and then I get a frantic phone call from my mother to check I'm okay.
I'm okay, I think, for now. I can tell that soon I may go off the rails, like I did when my parents marriage broke up. I can feel misadventure beckoning me, it stands to one side like a harlequin with a malevolent glint on it's mask. I know that I would very much like to go with it, into the night and experience something new, and I know I will have a great time. The downside is the mornings, for me the worst time is around 4am when you can't sleep and you know you won't be able to sleep and however brilliant that extra bottle of champagne sounded earlier you are paying for it now.
Why is self destruction so alluring? Or is it just the easy way out of a troubling time? I'm trying to maintain an air of detachment so I can work out what I should do, but it is hard. I think I do actually need some time off, to get away from it all and mentally reset my mind.
Or maybe I just shouldn't type while drunk.