Being a Saturday it's appropriate for me to take some time to write about the week past. Alex, my son, is staying with me for a few days to help with his study for GCSE. In an effort to instil some discipline, I have him getting up early and going for a run each day. So far there has been some progress and we advanced a few subjects. Today we will do Systems and Design and some English.

We have had some good heart to heart chats and I constantly taken aback by the good character and nature of this 16yr old. I can see in him a quality that you seldom come across today, humility and a good heart.

Linda, my PA has raised the topic of another job. It turns out she is looking at ads. Well I can't stop people from advancing and I would not wish to hold anyone back but it is distressing and would require a big upheaval.

My reaction has been muted and I am very aware of the potential for me to use emotional blackmail. For this reason I come across as not really bothered. I suppose there is no reaction that will not be open to misinterpretation.

Empty

How do I write something when feeling so empty? Boredom and discipline drive me to communicate. I live a life with the appearance of order and purpose. It is expected. There are many who I share my world with, they need me to be happy.

I have an inner world that is unlike any world I can describe. I have many well worn areas which are in daily use. They are familiar, automatic and necessary. The forbidden zones are no longer safe and contain predatory roving psychotic thoughts thirsty for destruction. These areas are neighbours to the red light zone. Purposeless journeys into the red light zone can often stray into the forbidden zone and get hopelessly lost. This dangerous mistake can take days to recover from, never without scars.

Next to the red light district is a playground. This is a healthy place. Perspectives and proportions are easily maintained. The playground has no dark areas. It is a place of magic, of 24/7 sunshine. Spending time in the playground can be easy with some people. Others seem to shy away from happiness and prefer the endless traffic circles in the run down slums. This is a wasteland of grumpiness and self-pity. All the roads here lead to the forbidden zone. So, in my world I stay away from here.

Where am I today? I don't have a clue. I feel like an obsessive gambler, dumbstruck and numb after a poor day at the races.

Stimulation

OK let's talk. I have Alex on the IBM typing up some work and we are going to discuss this after he has finished. We plan to watch a bit of football before refining it and going on to the next part. There are 4 more days of school remaining before the Easter holiday. During the break he will spend the time here revising his School work. I hope that he can stick to the schedule I have for him!

Haven't been at my best lately and the recent wet weather has not helped. I don't understand what's happening to me; as, my stubborn refusal to think of myself as disabled, is beginning to weaken and I don't like it! I know that I desperately need something more but I don't know what. To be so confused is disabling enough!

Society has developed the treatments for maintaining a life but insufficient understanding on supplying the tools to deal with this truncated existence. I need more than just existence, I need purpose. Stimulation, whether it be mental or physical, just amounts to masturbation, unless it is for a purpose or it is shared.

This will be my greatest challenge and the only one that I must achieve in order to move forward.

This week my gardener arrives after the winter break. I plan to get the spring planting started , parsnips, sweet corn, squash, potatoes... Any ideas?

Don't really have much to say. Life is dull and the work has been slow. I plan to watch the 6 Nations Rugby later. I spend the day with Alex tomorrow to help him with English Revision.

Damn it's tough to drag yourself from mindless, fruitless pursuits especially when a world of frivolous patisserie are just a click away. Discipline is especially tough considering that choices of independent activity are so limited. My wanderings in cyber space are made even more vain and unproductive by the disproportionate effort and time they waste.

So I return to writing. Describing the lonely existence that accompanies paralysis. I know it will be difficult to convey my world and even more difficult to comprehend.

I sat in my bathroom this morning, thinking. I thought about the day ahead, about the week passed and about the empty, nagging thoughts that seem to consume my moments of solitude lately. They are thoughts which lead nowhere. They have little purposefulness. They succeed only to remind me of my helpless, ineffective state and the devastating loss of my situation. They always end in me asking God for forgiveness. I have no idea what for, perhaps for my shameful self-pity.

In any case a cup of coffee awaits and I must go.

To write a blog one requires dedication. Sometimes despite your feelings and agenda you have to put your mind into the space. The space where you give of yourself. A space which can be difficult to reach. This is particularly true of a personal blog.

There are days like today when the heart feels heavy and afraid of opening. When dark melancholy and loneliness prosper and rule the thoughts without mercy. This is such a day. I write not because of exuberant outpouring,but of sombre duty.

My account will be factual and truthful but lacking my normal levity and wit.

Last Saturday I took Colleen and the children to London to a show at the Dominion Theatre. It was a show Carmen had seen a few weeks earlier and wanted to share with the rest of the family. So I told her to organise it and she did. The picture is taken just before we left.