The light at the end of the tunnel always seems to be an oncoming train to me... However, the past couple of days have been positive. Which frankly freaks me out.

Essentially I've been triggered like a gunhappy nutcase constantly for perhaps the past couple of months? And it's been more than sending me back to square one. It's all been ten, a hundred times worse than ever. The last of these crashes was a few days ago now and resulted in another admission, and not by choice. I jibbed out for a cigarette and ended up speaking to someone who was simply awesome. It seems like we spoke about nothing, and everything, and judged everything, but cast no judgement at the same time. I couldn't even tell you what we spoke about. Its all a bit of a blur. But I walked away positive. Like actually positive. I can honestly say I have never been positive before in my life, as I have never felt that way before. There was hope, and I beleived it, in fact I knew it.

Something had clicked in my head. And that something had over ridden the self destruct sequence that had been playing. I sat in a cubicle and instead of noticing the ridiculously small flaws in the decor, or the stiching of the bed linen, or doing my weird count everything in binary thing I normally do... I just sat there and arranged my head. It was like filing. Categorising and segmenting every thing and putting it away somewhere. And everything seemed so clear.

I didn't even get the persons name. And noone is more shocked than I that I felt such a rapport with a guy. Not just because of the whole being a lesbian thing, but literally my grandad is the only man I have ever trusted and I will only speak to men if I have to I.e. At work. When I try and recall our conversation whilst we were smoking I don't recall what he was wearing. I recall his face and very little else.

With my head clear and only the straining for the memories of the conversation left, a doctor interupted my thoughts. What they said went over my head, so instead I asked if they had seen the gentleman and described him. The doctor asked when I saw him and I admitted to nipping out for a smoke£ the doctor said I had been sedated for the past two hours so it must have been a dream. Prehaps it seemed more vivid or real as it was a drug enduced sleep.

Needless to say that really messed with my head. Either I've had the opposite of a mental break or doctors are trying to make me feel like a nutjob.

Eitherway, dream or not its done me the world of good. I feel like a new person. I discharged myself and have just been really taking care of myself, and the house, and my mum who's just been discharged after surgery. I'm not saying I'm all better. But I feel hopeful I will be. I've taken to spending 30min a day exfoliating and moisturising, and other little skin and hair care regime which seems to calm me a bit and help a tad with the ol' confidence. I wouldn't say I'm eating completely healthly but I haven't binged nor purged, just not eaten loads or 3 meals a day. But I am eating and not binging and/or purging. I've not self harmed since either. I even had a bit of an honesty discussion woth my girlfriend and came clean about what has gone on with me recently and why.

I'm used to feeling forgotten at the bottom of a black hole, voiceless and hopeless. I'm not saying that everything is sunshine and lollipops but I can at least see the sun for a change.

Just hope this isn't all a dream again