Greetings world, welcome to an experiment.

Blogging it seems is one of the latest 'big' things to do – so much so that even I fear it has already left the comfy niche of obscurity and gone so mainstream that its death in 'cool' terms is imminent ...but curiosity has gotten the better of me and I've decided to have a stab at putting my thoughts down and exposing them to whoever sees them.

That in itself, is somewhat of a brave venture on my part as I've always been too restrained to every keep a personal diary for more than a week or two and even then it was an exercise in pointlessness - I never could write my feelings and inner most thoughts down; that would involve to much acceptance of many things I would rather disassociate and honesty toward myself. So, in reality, what was the worth of even bothering to record anything?

Times though have changed and I have seriously been forced to take a good long look at myself and who I am.

At this point in my life I would say that I have never known so much about myself and yet so little. Me, who I am, it seems, is not who I thought and I have begun to recognise that I truly am Estranged from myself on so many levels.

I always thought I was a bit arrogant and self-assured in many situations but it seems to be that I've been covertly painting over the cracks in my psyche for too long. My subconsious has rebelled and taken down these falsehoods leaving me a broken individual and in desperate need of some help.

Getting help itself has been easy; the sheer desperation I felt late last year drove me to seek out that help powered on by the determination that I couldn't live with my own mind heading off in its own direction. Responding to this help however is another matter...

For someone apparently so laid back and dismissive of worry, to be savagely attacked by anxiety has, to be honest destroyed much of who I was or perhaps, and lets try to be honest here, has eliminated the shrouded disguise of my person to reveal more of what was truely beneath... It is quite amazing to think how little someone can understand and know about themselves really.

I'm going to use this space to put thoughts and musings down on (virtual) paper, a kind of 'external' internal monologue (ermm ... :-/) and see where it leads me.

It's a journey to rebuild myself or maybe it is just to discover who I really was in the first place? Probably sounds over-dramatic but, well no one's said it to me, but a breakdown can do that to a person, and although no one labelled it as such - if it wasn't, it was as damn close as I ever want to get!

I'm human, I have problems (seems I'm flawed more than even I feared! 8|) but I'm not going to harp on about it too much (it might be unavoidable sometimes though) I'm just gonna write and see what falls out.

The me now is not who I was a year ago, and Anxiety hit me like a train. The faint reverberations of it in the distance were unidentifiable. By the time I could comprehend the sound heading toward me, it was too late to escape its path.

The walk leading to the big red self-destruct button of the subconsious, it seems upon reflection, has been travelled slowly and surreptitiously for far longer than even I could have imagined; Unbeknownst to me I have been unravelling my life and 'losing' bits off the edges for quite some time.

I have changed and I don't think it ends there, I think I'm still piecing bits back into the puzzle of the why, wheres and what fors but mostly I'm optimistic. I wouldn't say I've recovered fully from the shock of having the rug pulled out from under my very being but I'm beginning to head round to the notion that perhaps the whole experience has somehow saved me.

This will be me, trying to be honest with myself, trying to discover who it is I am. Its not a big thing in the scheme of existence just one person trying to find out exactly how to fit into their own skin comfortably.

I'm not going to endeavour to make this all about that personal journey, there is far more to me than just a problem or two here and there so I'll let it go where it goes. If I write about the inner-most insecurities or revelations I have then so be it... If I feel like writing about having eaten a nice meal sometime then thats whats going on the page!

I know I'm not alone, modern society seems geared to fueling anxiety and neurosis. There are now countless ways to interact – letters, phones, text message, email, IM, forums, blogs... (why, only earlier today I was IM chatting to my first ever Belarussian) but in the end people have never been so greatly distanced from each other on a fundamental level. It's no wonder we begin to doubt ourselves, question and lose our senses of security and worth.

But I'm gonna sort out this crappolla, there's too much life I have to lead to spend forever locked in an endless process of self-discovery and counselling. It could get weird, it could be mundane. Maybe it'll be a lot of things or maybe it will just fizzle out and I'll forget the whole damn idea.

Then again maybe, perhaps it'll be fun eh!? And if fortune favours me maybe I'll make new friends and aquaintances along the way.

Ksan

...Maybe I'll settle once and for all the long-standing question of whether Blue, Black or Purple is my favourite colour!!! :D