I once put on a pair of my mums glasses and asked 'which one was real', as I glanced up and down through the glass. The TV getting closer then further away. She thought I was trying to be funny, when really I was being serious and trying to figure out if what I saw with the glasses was the correct view. I wanted to know if my eyes had be lying to me my whole life.
An ironic idea seeing as I once faked an eye test to get glasses.
I don't really know what I'm trying to say - I think I'll come back to this another time.
I'm finding it had to distinguish between old patterns and new. I get thoughts and feel as I'm slipping back into a manic depressive state. I can't tell and I'm just not so sure.
I just need someone.
In truth, you like the pain. You like it because you believe you deserve it, and the fact that you’re putting yourself through pain means you are doing what you, by all rights, ought to do. You’re doing something right. Your ability to withstand pain is your claim to fame. It is ascetic, holy. It is self-control.
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