There's very little new to add about being as mental as fuck. It goes on. Yesterday and today I was gripped by the thought that I'd never see my daughter alive again. I resisted driving up there yesterday but was beside myself with agitation so today I just went for it. Every single aspect of it was fucking awful but staying home would have been worse. She doesn't exactly recognise me now. She knows she likes me, but is clearly not sure who I am.

Sometimes I wish I hadn't committed to writing five things I'm grateful for every day. They feel like the stupid jokey item at the end of the news bulletin. It's all fucking shit and corruption and death and despair, but hey, here's a carrot that looks like a penis.

But I am grateful for: the nurse being a bit more chatty and forthcoming; no traffic jams; still smiling, whoever the fuck she thinks I am; drugs; bed

xxx