Who is sanity, what is she?

I have reached the somewhat unfortunate conclusion that I am, in colloquial terms, ‘losing my marbles’.

Indeed, I may, perhaps, have already lost them.

Perpetually watching ‘Girl Interrupted’, ‘One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest’ and ‘Boys From The Blackstuff’ does not seem to help with the maintaining (or regaining) of one’s sanity. I cannot, for the life of me, think why.

I had no reason for beginning this blog (I do not count insomnia and a penchant for procrastination to be worthy of the ‘reasons’ tag) but now I feel very much like it’s composition is rooting me in reality, a virtual type of reality (if this is not too much of a contradiction in terms) or, at the very least, documenting the battle (which I am losing) to triumph over something that I cannot quite define.

The days pass. They merge. They converge. The dance around me wearing ridiculous pajamas. They tease me, taunt me, try to make me do something, anything, an impalpable thing … a thing that I cannot do and do not understand.