My behaviour is getting worse again. I’ve tried to manage and I think outwardly any behavioural compulsions are near invisible, but inside my head is a different story.

I could almost swear it is like sharing the inside of a skull with someone else but its hard to define – It feels like its always me in here, but equally it is alien in a way. It doesn’t fell like a different person but it is like having two of me inside the same head except one of us is seriously screwed up. A different persona sort of... kinda at the back to the left of the inside of my head if that makes any sense at all, someone who is me but isn't and talks just beside the inner vision of me.

I know its me in this inner monologue, its familiar and stuff - its just that if it really was me then surely I would have done away with it by now?

I have wondered in the past if something I’ve never spoken about here, or really in any detail to anyone, has given birth to two identities inside my mind – one at the forefront and one who didn’t exactly go away at the point in time where the path forked. I acknowledge that that does sound extremely vague and unfortunately I’m not going to openly clarify it. Try as I might, even in the anonymity of blogdom I’ve never managed to persuade myself to leave some of my most ferociously guarded secrets lying around on a page.

I guess what a psychiatrist might describe as my 'cognitive behaviour' is giving me grief of late and I’m heading back to that edgy state where a slanted perception of a non-existent issue is as much a cause for a bout of anxiety as having a real problem. More so, in many cases! You can ‘see’ a real problem and work through it – fighting an internal conflict is so much more distracting and clouded.

I can’t afford to succumb to these problems again, there’s no way I can end up signed off work again like I was a couple of years ago. As much as I hate this job and this situation, I know that if I was signed off I would never persuade myself to return here.

Besides, as much as I would probably admit I miss the discussions with my old counsellor, me and my recovery ain’t going back there without a fight!

I've got to try and keep a lid on the gremlins... And the morose moods. I'm such a bugger for wallowing in my own reflections and that only stirs the years (and years, and years) of festering questions and uncertainties.

Thank fook for computer games eh? Somewhere I can stick my head and generally forget the world for a couple of hours.