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It is fair to say that normal service in my head is starting to resume now. Hopefully it is showing to some people at least, with less desperate attempts for attention, and slightly less weird and unpredictable behaviour. Obviously some of the above will remain to a degree, as it's who I am. But when depressed it's just all of that on steroids, with side effects.

Hopefully by now it is also showing in my writing style, as my head clears, the words begin to flow more freely. The one killer of course is moods. I can have a head full of things to write, but not be in the right frame of mind. At this moment in time they are flowing like the overflow of a dam. 
As I think back over the past couple of months, I question some of my actions and decisions. Knowing that some have been a little damaging to put it lightly. Others forming an unchangeable course of events to slip into motion. I won't claim it was all the depression, or blame it on other things, at the end of the day it was me. While I don't subscribe to "regret" as such, I can still manage to wish things had worked out differently at least.
Some of the things I have said and done made sense at the time, a few still do. But there is one particular thing I that I can't get my head around still, and it's quite a delicate one.
I blogged a while ago saying that I thought I was destined to be alone, and quite frankly was happy about that. In some way I stand by that statement. Being the only one, means the sole master of your destiny. Rather than blaming other peoples decisions, or feeling out of control, its ALL you. There is a sense of security to be found in there somewhere. Less emotional uncertainty, less vulnerability to influences and stresses of others and so on.
But there is another side, one which I am slowly starting to remember. Physical contact, and the feeling of being cared about. I am not going to lie, there are a number of reasons it is all a bit unfamiliar to me. Some know more about this than others, but either way, starting to miss that again after such a long time of it being switched off is really confusing. Again, as that has returned, some bad decisions have been made from the search for that too. Awkward! 
Simply seeing a romantic scene on TV is enough to make my heart soften, and a little part of me rumble into life like your tummy does when you are hungry. Same thing I guess, both are hungry for something.
While at times I can imagine being fine on my own, and not having to worry about feeling rejected or second best ever again, I can also remember so well how it feels just to snuggle up to watch TV, or just share a moment with someone you care about, and know they care about you too. It's not about getting down and dirty, or naked intimacy. The parts I miss most about a relationship are the simple things. Just a nice long hug, tight and warm is all it takes for me. Just thinking about it as I write this makes me feel warm and fuzzy recalling such things from my past, and yearn for the feeling once again in my life. Is a hug really too much to want?
Emotions are a funny old thing, and as my recovery continues, and I return to my normal deep thinking, soft hearted, emotionally vulnerable self, so much comes rushing back to me. I had forgotten what being emotionally excited meant for starters. I forgot how it feels to be helpless about something, but at the same time so happy about feeling that way. I forgot what unconditional feelings were like, and how it is OK to let yourself go at times, and just enjoy the moment.
I guess what I am saying really here is that not only am I recovering from a long bout of depression, but in the process I am reconfirming who I really am. Who I was all along. Starting to realise how much of my true self I have suppressed for so long now. I have struggled for a long time now to rediscover my true self. Many blog entries have covered the subject, Michael or Snazy , the reinvention of Michael Snasdell, and so on... They all tried to find a way to unlock myself again, stop being fake, stop wearing a mask, and live MY life as it should be. And now, I think I am getting there. 
So I take it all back, I don't want to be single if at all possible. I want someone in my life who I can me ME around, stupid, carefree, and childish. But at the same time I would love to be with someone who allows me in to their life. To care for them, and express myself the way I have always wanted to be able to. I'm an idiot at times, far from what you would call romantic, but not through lack of trying. But I just want to not have to be someone I'm not, ever again!
I know it's a big ask. I'm 43 now, a bit strange, far from good looking, and working hard on my health.But surely there is someone out there insane enough to take what they see, and give it a go? I'm not asking for a life of crazy lust, or a blank canvas, just someone who likes to explore the mind like I do, willing to slowly open up emotionally, like a flower, and just enjoy life on the same mental level as me.
That or switch the whole lot off again and just stick with being single! #AllOrNothing
So there you go, as I come round from what feels like a long mental coma, as awareness returns, and I start to realise I have a heart again, emotions take a hold, and I miss being held (I know, so masculine!) 
God help me when the next love scene comes on TV, I might just melt away from existence. 
Feel free to take the piss at any point. But writing from the heart is just what I do. 
PS, more cheerful and maybe even a little amusing blog to follow, promise!