It's day 53 since I gave up smoking. I'm starving all the time, am convinced I will be the size of a house by the end of the summer and the nightmares have become more sporadic. They appeared to have gone but re-appeared early this morning.
Back in those days when my mental illness defined my life I met an extraordinary man called Desmond. I never knew his age, inquiries usually elicited a response of 782 years, and all the time he was utterly deluded. He once announced to me that he was moving from Folkestone to Battle as he fancied a change. A few days before he told me he was leaving I called the hostel where he lived to try to arrange a cup of coffee. The staff member who answered asked if I knew anything about him moving. Apparently it was all in his head.
For all his delusions Desmond was extraordinarily kind. During my 4 month in patient stay in London in 1994 he wrote to me every week with his spidery hand often accompanied by a packet of cigarettes. Even the consultant asked who this man was who wrote every week with the amazing writing.
He died some years ago so I'm told. It is sad I missed his passing. He came back to me this morning in that nightmare. For reasons I do not understand I was trying to shoot him. Oh how the mind plays tricks.
So yes I'm still dreaming but out of focus and with more haze. That makes it easier to experience. I'm hoping my mental health will improve without such night time disturbances. Other than that the only other effect I've noticed is everything still tastes salty.
Given that a massively high percentage of mentally ill people smoke in the UK would it be too controversial to suggest cessation will increase mental wellbeing? Now that would put the cat among the pigeons-a storm of fury might ensue. It's just a thought though.
I Heard a Voice.
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