Fear and loathing in oslo

I realize how sick I am when the plane takes off, the ground vanishing below me is an extreme and traumatising event.

I am afraid of heights. But usually it's not very extreme, I am afraid of flying as well -but not to an extreme degree.

I usually deal with whatever is happening to me fairly well. In the north I've been isolated and alone, but I came there to reintegrate myself into society. Money, job, girlfriend -the usual. I got a real job as a real 3d animator working for an ambitious local businessman who owned the local media empire. He wanted to do what pixar did. He gave me all kinds of freedom, wanted my input. I took the job. And then my doctor told me to never use a computer again. Re-education. For a man who has gone through a lifetime of disappointment this was the proverbial it. It must have been. So I maintained my isolation, buried in myself I didn't realise or notice how depressed I was. Not until that plane took off. I was a fool to fly.

On the other side, fully realizing how fucked up I am can be useful though I don't know how. Last time I was really depressed I got drunk alot, humiliated myself publicly and then did the pill. I realized how intensely bad for you pharmacological drugs can be. Since then I've gotten my drugs off the street where the side effects are well publicized.

I am wondering what to do.

I don't want drugs. I want my life -but I don't know where it is. In fact I don't believe I have one anywhere. So I need to make a life.

I haven't eaten much the last few months, I may be suffering from malnourishment, I constantly feel like I'm going to faint. But I'm not hungry, the thought of food is revolting. The theme of Inuyasha goes around on an endless playback in my mind.

I feel weak.

b