Laudus Himself

Previous posts: Intro / Admission This isn’t a story. There isn’t a beginning, middle and an end; however much I try to frame it like that. There definitely isn't an end, at least not one you'd like. These posts are thoughts, experiences and emotions told in whatever way my vocabulary and mood will allow me. Emphasis and tone will shift and I hope there’s something good about that for you. Roll right up, a surprise every time. After my admission to hospital, the Emergency department became my new home. The sick, the old, the lonely and the drunks. The mentally ill, too. It was frightening frankly. Luminous and illuminating, the Emergency Department (ED) saw me quickly in a bay and assessed. Assessed, re-assessed, and once I'd accepted the idea of staying, wired up. Plugged in to some delicious saline-solution- water in my veins. Those awful, blue reminders of my failure drank like a rummy on shore release. They were thirsty; my heart rate was up and I was dehy...

INTRO HERE Foreword: This series is essentially a journal, written from notes and based on my perspectives at the time. In order to explain, I hope to help you understand. I do not always come across well, and I am aware of that, but it is only fair as I will be honest about those I met, too. This first part is dark, and I don't apologise for that because this was the darkest part of my life. I have to portray that fairly. This isn't over, but I want it to be clear that I am not in this place now. I wouldn't be putting this piece out if I didn't feel strong enough to talk about it. Part 1: Admission When you try to kill yourself, the last thing your confidence needs is to be so fat that the noose snaps. Smoking my fifteenth, or possibly fiftieth, cigarette of the day, I thought about just walking away. Running, if my legs would let me. The south circular, a famous river of smog which creeps through London like a diseased artery, never looked so enticin...