I'm starting to type this as I'm sitting at the beach. Lovely weather. Overlooking the see. Wedding. They are hard to enjoy these days, unfortunately. We're summoned for the pictures – E. in his suit which makes him look better than I'd like to admit, the rest of us, all nice. No problems. I ask a question to someone, get a joke as an answer, and have to try so hard not to punch that person in the face, that all I can do to help myself is just to walk away. For what? For a joke? Apparently. There's nothing wrong whatsoever with that person's response and yet… I'm drained, emotionally, of all my reserves, and try as I might it's hard not to take it out on other people. In my confusion it's like they're trying to hurt me even though it's really me hurting me through them.

Perhaps there's a reason why diaries are usually locked up and hiding underneath a bed. Or why they are associated with emotionally unstable adolescents (a pleonasm if there ever was one). Part of what I write is considered hurtful for and by some. I get requests for moderation and feedback that I'm using my disease as an excuse to say whatever I please. I´m being told to harden the fuck up. Please, Garmt, have some motherfucking consideration, act normal, will you, it´s been a month now. And -…. they´re right. Of course they are right. All my life I have known the right and the wrong decision. Each time I smoke a cigarette. Eat too much. Spend money on a three-star restaurant instead of on a charity. Yell at a friend instead of feel for him. Or more down-to-earth – I know when I am creating bad karma. Each and every tiny single bit of it, and I know beter than any and all of you that it will come back to haunt me when I need it least. So why add more now? Why continue to create bad karma? Because it takes energy? That I'm spending instead on looking for a cure which we all know IS NOT THERE or it wouldn't be called a motherfucking INCURABLE DISEASE now would it (Matthew, I'm just writing these lines to upset the profanity filter at your company), anyway, why waste energy on all these other things when I can use it to be a better person? Am I even a better person for applying censorship? Well, if I was in the other person's shoes, I would think me a better person for being considerate, for not spewing whatever comes up for the world to read (hey, 68 people on the list, and no more than a few hits, it's not the whole world, I know that, I'm not being arrogant here). I wouldn't want all thoughts other people have about me to be out there in the open, either. Right?

I'm torn – one the one hand, any and all of you who have any remote complaints about reading what I write, please feel invited to tell me to remove you from the list and to never look up the website again. You're most welcome to remove yourselves. On the other hand – I am trying to be a better person. But don't take that as a promise.

Thank you for having read chapter 1 of "how to cope with writing a personal blog". I'm sure everyone goes through this. We'll continue with chapter 2 next week.

Ah, one more thing. The pseudobulbar affect (read that link some time if you interact with me. I have it in a mild form now but it might impact how you communicate with me in the future) can account for laughing or crying but not for anger or punching someone in the face. If that happens I'm accountable for it msyelf.