It is the day after a storm, in which I look round with a certain detachment at the wreckage and the rubble and see if something can be salvaged from the ruins. And see, perhaps, that things are not so much ruined as just tossed about and set on their heads and so not instantly recognisable.

I have tasted despair again. I knew the hard times would be hard and in my depressive state of mind I let every bit of hardness rub wrongly against my bones. And all my bitter past lay as dust in my mouth. And again the knowledge that I don't belong here could not be passed; not by going around, not by climbing over, not even by pushing doggedly through. There I was stuck and perhaps that's where I always am, but only allowing myself to become aware of it in the darkest, loneliest hours.

I need help, I need help. But who exists that could possibly withstand the weight of my negativity? I wouldn't wish that on anyone, not on my worst enemies and not on my closest allies.  I feel better today though, through sheer determination, and I will probably feel on top of the world again by tomorrow, but that doesn't change the fact that I have no place in this world.

But is that even true? Or is it the poison of the negative influences in my past rising up to taint me again? You know how it is, don't you, to be divided into two camps that will not stop warring? I know my worth, but I feel completely worthless. I know I'm capable of anything, yet I can do nothing. I know I am unshakeably strong, but I fold at the onslaught of my own mind.

My own mind is the devil, sucking me into self-hatred and self-hatred is the opposite of life.

Keep Moving is the only cure I know and the process of living will slowly but surely ease me away from this stagnant place. Do something, do anything, and let muscle memory take over, let the memories pass, let the dead rest. And before I know it I'll be noticing again the breezes and the sunsets, the newborn air that steals into my room each dawn and I'll remember grace and gratitude and, above all, hope.