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2nd January 2021

Dear Diary,

The CBT-based suggestions of my current therapist leave me feeling manipulated. Setting daily goals and boundaries. Negotiating for my needs. Getting me functioning again. "May I have some more please Sir?" Then back to the workhouse. Justifying my actions and accepting the justifications of others. Much of my behaviour just is. Neither justified or unjustified. I do this because some feeling usually follows. Two symptoms keep recurring. A scrambled brain that struggles to string words together, and mostly withdraws from what's around me. And no feelings about anything non-trivial. This blogging is an attempt to keep my brain functioning and to locate something to feel about. Difficult when I just don't want to be here. Today though I began laying out a garden at the entrance to my shed. Using the concrete edging pieces that came with the house. The curved sections brought to mind the pathways at the classroom entrances at Petersham Rail College. A place I grew to loathe despite the landscaping. For a fleeting moment I saw this house as a canvas for imagination instead of a millstone around my neck. I miss Sydney, the inner west and CBD particularly, even though the well became poisoned. A poisoned well is better than a vast nothingness.