Return to the correct way.

Something has shifted in me: I can no longer bring myself to walk out of Leeds to Wetherby. I've got weary of the many streets and stares I've to cross before the ring road presents itself and I'm in freedom. No desire. Nothing to prove. No advantage traipsing through countless, litter strewn, streets where no one says any greeting and where I only see the insane relentlessness carrying on: runners running, joggers jogging, dog walkers walking dogs and bicycle riders "talking talking talking" while flying through the monotony and never being here now.

This malaise is surely temporary? I've just too many bad thoughts on my mind to shake off this nothingness. This morning I've rejected the very idea of walking there. I'm going to get the first bus there and relax at my mum's until the morning when I've to return to Leeds for a Work Capability Assessment at Quarry House.

Since the new year I've tried to retrace the steps I'd come away from only to find that way truly is impenetrable and I'm again at a brick wall with a sign in letters metres in diameter which state "dead end". This other way is firmly in the previous me and I've been lying to me again! It makes me feel truly sad to know I have being wasting precious time trying to rejoin this worthless pathway and I've set myself back months, years, forever from the truth I so need.

Forgetfulness is a common pattern: it is my inconsistencies that terrorize me! Like forgetting all my skills outside the commonality, and laying down to appease the unworthy individuals who are people I'd much rather "poke in the eye"!

Just to see this makes me sick to the pit of my stomach. Nothing is so dangerous to my future than being blinded by the illusion of a happiness in a world of reflections, splinters and facets that would seek to blind me.

On Monday I saw my GP, as once again I've been feeling absolutely apathetic on Sertraline (100mgs), the Locum I saw (who was very upbeat and comforting (probably because he's a Locum)) advised me there was an alternative to SSRI - SNRI which works on two different receptors in the brain and is advised for a major depressive disorder - which I'm now on for the seventh day; will they switch me again?

On Infirmary Street I join the X99 and take up my usual space: first seat on the left facing forward - away from the conversations happening behind me and unable to see those expressions which reflect my own hopelessness. Then I get a girl behind me who is likely to talk into her phone the entire journey out of the maze, where gutters overflow with the detritus of another weekends farce. Give me green lights all the way today. She's stopped talking and I think I will too: the sun is shining, it's summer, the birds blew through my nightmares and awoke fully aware of my futile gestures to the Leviathan.