Famous in Europe; Reviled at Home.

Doll me up in my bad luck. I'll meet you there.

Valuable talk today between my mother and I. I have a long term (read: very long term) project that I know I have to complete one day. I'm talking five to ten years here. It is imperative, but it will take a huge amount of planning, research, persuasion, anger, and persistence to complete I am sure. For the sake of myself, my brothers and sister, and my wider family, it must be done. It is looking increasingly like something that must fall to me, and I am comfortable with that. I need answers, and I will find them.

There is a burning need in me to complete this task. It is a lifetime fire. I have other things to do - living, mostly - before I embark on it, and that is right and natural. I am beginning to understand that the puzzle of this sickness can be solved. I am missing the most important pieces, and nobody is going to find them for me or my siblings. That much is abundantly clear. This is going to be a very difficult, draining task. I will need to be ready both mentally and physically. It will be, I am pretty sure, the hardest task I have ever undertaken. But so it must be.

I apologise for my lack of detail here. It is not possible, or appropriate, for me to go into specifics at the moment. I will discuss it quietly with some of those who I am closest to, and whom I can trust implicitly. If it all pans out how I am currently envisaging (not bloody likely) you should be able to read about it all one day. As it is, I am mostly writing this to document the day that something clicked inside my head and I figured out what I need to kill this thing. I know I am right. One day I will know more, and it will all make more sense.

Apart from this piece of largely ambiguous news, there isn't much to tell. My readership is growing slowly, which is just fine with me. I have been feeling better but that ever-present resentment of my chemical dependency was on my mind today. I missed one pill this morning and by this evening my body was already going into physical withdrawal. This is very, very troubling. I quelled the beast with my evening dose, but the idea of coming off these pills eventually is clouded by the prospect of spending a week lying in bed battling cold sweats, drilling headaches, body shakes and muscle spasms. I feel like a junkie.

All in all, however, I am doing good. I hate to harp on about it, but I am so very excited to see my long lost pal soon. I am greatly enjoying music and lyric writing. I am creative energy. And I am a week sober. Jesus, what an achievement. Don't think I will go drinking for a long while. I am medicated enough for a few people, let alone just myself. If a vampire took to me now, they would be immune to mental illness, that's for damn sure.

Do you believe in soul mates?