I have a strong sense of intuition. even other ppl have said this to me, ppl who know me well and have heard me a lot. these days I'm feeling like I also have some premonition. kinda scares me that. 

but now in hindsight I wonder if those falls on my runs were a warning for what lay ahead (I fell once more, soon after buying new shoes). I also remember telling him around that same time that almost every year the coming winter encourages me cos I do look forward to these few months of not continuous sweating but this year it felt strangely dark and depressing. 

even my plants are dying one by one, some red tinier-than-ants-insects feeding on the spotted croton.

there are my memories, 

and there are his, 

and they don't often align. 

and half our life, 

spent together

is a lil hollowed out.

even though I dream his memories now

and there is no 'truth'

only what we manage to construct together,

feeding each other's version

in and out back and forth,

sometimes losing touch of the boundaries

between us and the walls within.

it's hard to explain. I've read a decent bit about mental illness, I've seen friends who refuse to get help and family some of who have been blurred from being due to medication. I've always found the topic captivating, dark yes and scary yes, but enigmatic and mysterious. I've met ppl who almost brag of their struggles and those who are surprisingly open and matter of fact about it. There was also this girl once in hostel I was getting friendly with and then one late afternoon in her room (very dark I don't know why) she told me things about her family and childhood and violence which spooked me enough to avoid talking to her after that. Ive wondered many times since then if I could've helped her and I didn't. But what I feel often when I think back is not guilt but a strong sense of self preservation. 

In a similar way I have avoided some family members because I couldn't bare to see or hear them in their state of being. Sometimes it's very hard, you don't want to hurt them in the slightest but that means allowing them to bruise you quite a lot. 

And now, now I want to read a lot more about it. I remember that time I ate that spiked chocolate on a not great day, almost dehydrated and tired, and how it felt like my mind had gone across. That was soon after reading Plath's Bell Jar. Since then I've been ever more curious, of coourse because I crossed that line back in my mind but the fact that there was a line, right there, made it all too real. 

Now I want to study it professionally I think. It's becoming more and more irresistible. And these words from The Gene keep hanging around in my head, something to the effect of (I don't remember the exact words) 'where does the illness end and the person begin' or 'how do you separate identity from the illness'. 

some theories I have formed over the years and some words I need to put in writing so I don't forget and can quote later. "being human is becoming difficult" ppl who suffer from anxiety depression and related issues can't help becoming more self centered. can you ever really know someone? if you confess something to ppl, they will sometimes extend/impose their idea of things onto you in that moment of your vulnerability. ppl love to equate themselves to you especially in moments of defeat or other types of low. even if you know ur a much better fighter in life than them, even if that intent to equate kinda humiliates/underestimates you. It's hard to be objective, but it's not impossible. Reading has been a trove of wisdom and empathy, from where my sense of right and wrong emerge and evolve. And if you write, try and make a deep incision; don't barely scratch the surface, you can be better than that. And if you daren't do that, then ball and crush the written surface, obliterate it. Language is secondary.