No Concept Of Time

It always feels like years between my posts. Was it yesterday? Last Week? Last Month? Even Last Year? I can’t always tell. It’s like i have no concept of time. How can i when my head is so full?

Two years ago i started my ‘get well programme’ which promised 30 months to tackle pretty much every issue i have that rolls around in my head. All of a sudden that seemingly endless 30 months has become just 6 months and then it’s back into the big wide world. It’s a hellishly scary concept. I no longer want to attend because attending means that my time there is getting closer and closer to the end. The visitor in my head wickedly excites me into thinking that if i do not attend therefore the end will not happen because i have to be there to experience the end. I swear he’s physically bending time to meet his own agenda. This is a world that i have felt i hated for such a long time but it’s my reality and he knows that. Days have been slipping by me like i’m stuck in time myself. In my head it’s like standing in the centre of the Waltzers at the fun fair. The man running them is perfectly still whilst the Waltzers are spinning around all blurred, and i know time is slipping passed me, days all blurred together. I’ll wake up tomorrow and it’ll be the last day of the 6 months. Is 6 months really enough to make big decisions about my life and bring my reality into touch with everyone else’s reality? I’m not sure i know what the true reality is having lived in my head for so many years. I thought i wouldn’t have to wear my mask anymore, that i’ll be able to be free, but that doesn’t feel like a reality i can make.

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