I feel so much better this morning, not like I could dance down the street or anything, just more what I suppose is normal. I really don’t know what was wrong yesterday, I felt terrible and really wanted just to be in my bed, not even asleep, that didn’t matter, I just wanted that comfort that only a bed can offer. I did sleep a ridicules amount but it was my time spent just lying there that I actually began to find rather disturbing. I’m not sure how I landed up on the subject but I began for what must be the millionth time in my life, well probably everyone’s life, as to why are we here and what comes next. As I have said before I don’t really have a set religion, but I have spent a great deal of time over the years trying to learn about everything from the strict Church of Scotland I grew up in, through other branches of Christianity and on to Buddhism, Islam, Jewish, paganism and anything that came my way which could be the answer. Yesterday though what was concerning me for some reason was that what is the point of all this, why is my life the way it is, or if you prefer what did I do to deserve this. It is a huge subject and not one I can do justice to in any way and not one I take lightly, I was brought up as a Christian I suppose it is understandable that I always pull back and compare every possibility using Christianity as my measuring post.

If I have been born and lived the nice little life we see on TV of having a good job, married with two kids with a life that passes sweetly and with little real impact, then I guess I would have been happy to visit the church from time to time and remained a member of the Church of Scotland, but that isn’t the way it was. Life has been bombshell after bombshell and each one set me of asking questions, but I wasn’t wanting to learn yesterday, I was trying to make some sense out of it all. There are so many ways of looking at things like this, but what appeared in my mind was that big questions why is my life this way. I remember hearing my mother say when Jeffery, my son died, that I didn’t deserve that to happen, I wasn’t the best kid in the world but I didn’t deserve that. In my mothers eyes life is a case of do the right thing and the right things happen, do wrong and terrible things happen, so my question of what did I do to deserve this, is easy to find the source of, I guess I also grew up hearing it daily. I can’t see how anyone in one life time could do so much harm to be punished as she sees it, in the same life time, it doesn’t work. The natural progression of that line of thought is that we live, die and live again, each new life is either a reward for the previous or a punishment. Although that is easier to understand, but then of course it opens up the question of who was I and what did I do that was so terrible. I had opened the door to my thoughts spiraling off into the most horrific and terrible places it could find. The worst thing is that when you mind has started to work on scaring you, shutting it up is almost impossible. I had some luck that after I had been though questioning the possibility that leg or arm pain was because I had injured someones limbs, in a previous life, to being every horrific character that history could supply, I went to sleep, but the down side it returned on waking.

I know that I am writing this slightly on the flippant side but but I don’t really want to go into the detail and the picturing that went through my mind yesterday, well I might be in danger of really going mad and taking you with me. What I don’t understand though is the way that when you are feeling that ill, that craziness always comes with it. I wasn’t running a temperature, something that I have blamed in the past, I was just feeling so ill I couldn’t cope with normal daily life, yet there I was in horror land. I have heard others theories from it is just having too much time to think, to it’s madness in its self, but there is some kind or strange link between illness and our minds finding other ways of pulling ourselves down even further, as far as even considering that I may have been a Nazi in Poland. I have noticed quite clearly that these spells of thought on all kinds of different subjects, from the meaning of life, what will dying be like and how will my family deal with my going, to maddest like yesterday appear when I physically just can’t take any more. The worse my physical condition, the worse things the mind finds to plague me with. I can fully understand how so many with chronic illness can fall into depression, if I were to be caught up in thoughts like that all the time even I would become depressed with ease.

I don’t believe that everyone goes thought the exact same thoughts of the meaning of life and so on, but I do think that many have their own range of subjects, subjects that when their bodies have taken everything from them for that day, that their minds then take over and fill the time you can fill no other way. Unfortunately for me the two things that have fascinated me through out life have been history and philosophy, so there is a lot of stored information for madness to play with, I just wish I had studied horticulture and jacobian tapestry. It doesn’t fill me with much hope as to what the future holds as things get worse, but it does make me wonder if this thing they call depression isn’t linked to it in someway. If I told a doctor what I have just written here I would bet that I would be prescribed with antidepressants, even thought I’m not depressed. Even when I went to bed last night, I spent the first few minutes lying there in pain that meant I didn’t know where to place my limbs again, on top of that almost my entire skin was on fire, every part of me had had enough. I also found that my mind hadn’t given up on taking that last opertunity to throw in a few more suggestions as to why I am so ill, but as always within 20 minutes I was asleep.

Today I feel so much better, what ever pulled me down yesterday seems to have had enough of me, as I have had of it. All my limbs are still driving me mad, but I don’t feel ill with it, I still have some energy and a feeling that I can manage with what a normal day brings. It is hard to say what yesterday was about, but I know it has happened in the past and it will happen in the future, why I don’t know. I don’t believe I have ever done anything to deserve what life has lain out for me to live, any more than it is for anyone else. I am no more likely to be able to answer those questions, than I am to be able to fly to the moon and as long as my wanderings happen on good days, well I enjoy them. My biggest questions is now why do the wanderings of our minds when weakened physically seem to be total madness?