Feldman returns.
One night without my beloved tamezepam and I'm stuffed. I didn't pop one last night because of the anaesthetic today; I woke up at the witching hour; the grand total of an hour and a half's sleep. The zombie returns.
Many moons ago, I used to lead ghost hunts in a dilapidated Victorian theater. At eight o'clock, guests would arrive full of enthusiasm and energy, excited and looking forward to being scared witless. However, after five or six hours and an inevitable lack of paranormal activity, their concentration would lapse and an almost tangible, creeping feeling of non-reality would manifest. In the small hours it's easier to believe that another world exists. Critical judgment slips and the slightest movement in your peripheral vision causes your mind to see ghosts instead of billowing curtains.
Insomnia and the tiredness, weariness, fatigue, lethargy, call it what you will that follows, has an all encompassing effect and of late brings with it the same eerie feelings as ghost hunting. But these days it's not ghosts I see but visions haunting me; imagined scenarios that in reality, probably won't ever happen. And they're a damn site harder to banish than any ghoulie, ghosty or long leggedy beasty.
What does every well equipped ghost hunter need? Why an exorcist or course!
My exorcist is far from being Lorraine Warren, or an incense swinging priest; mine most definitely arrives in a pharmacy bottle and performs its ritualistic magic whilst I sleep. It's obvious to me now, that in banishing my possession by the demons Worry, Pessimism and Anger, pharmacology is my holy water and my pyjamas become the purple stole of redemption.
All I need to figure out is which brand of holy water will expel the beasts. Will just another short glug buy me enough time to get a grip on reality and banish the ghosts for good? Or will the visions continue to dance in their merry malevolent way, taunting and twisting my hopes for a peaceful life?
It's nearly Halloween, this year I won't be calling on the services of the local coven, I intend to be flying solo. Pull back your curtains and look high in the sky. If you see a figure swooping with glee from star to star, you'll know I've found pharmacological nirvana.
Amen to that.
