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I give the string a tug and the blinds close tight, shutting out the world, enclosing me in my solitary womb where tv is watched and food eaten and too few voices heard. The carpets starting to wear down in the spots my feet know well, sofa to kitchen to toilet to bed. Two years I've been here, living alone, trapped in my routine of sleep and eat and work and home. The neighbours don't know my name, seldom friends come to visit. This is my little world, a place in which my busy mind shouts its anxious...

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i agree that all human beings must feel anxious occasionally.
our personalities & backgrounds differ,
so we seem to differ on which occasions cause anxiety.

isn't the root of all anxiety: a fear of the unknown, or
fear of rejection, or of failure??
i mean, if we never cared about results, we'd never be anxious, right??

the future & my...

Out of all the tears shed and wept words said since the death of Gary Speed, a common theme has been the question of why he didnt seek help. Why when he reached such low depths of despair did he not call upon one or more of his seemingly vast pool of loving friends to talk to them and at least try and get some help. I can understand why people wish he'd spoken up and not held his demons inside, but i wonder would it really have saved his life if he had cried for help. If Gary had told his wife or...