Topsy turvy world.

[Another voice busting technique I hope. Just bear with me, if you would.]

'Tis a topsy turvy world. Where words come and go. People too. The generally accepted views on the world also come and go.

I know lots of people say that with one of my diagnoses it is like I'm on the wrong planet. As if another planet would somehow fix all the problems, and I'd fit in there. I sincerely doubt I would. Topsy turvy worlds.

Topsy turvy world. From the teenage boy air guitaring to some very noisy music who suddenly became self-concious as I walked past and glanced into the front room of his house, to the old lady who was closing her blinds and her curtains and double locking the front door as I walked past.

Topsy turvy world. Know Weebles, those toys which whenever you hit them they always ping back to upright as they are weighted in that way? Well, I used to force them down and keep them down - when I pushed something over at that time, it stayed down. So Weebles confused me, they don't do the expected thing.

Topsy turvy world. Where if we get through another 30 hours without calling an ambulance the weekend will be deemed a success.

Topsy turvy world. Where my head seems to be hell-bent on being a right bloody disaster, but outwardly I'm currently fairly subdued.

Topsy turvy world. Where the world spins with me on it. However huge the urge to get under a duvet and never emerge from underneath it again, I still do. For I need to deal with today's tomorrow. And today is a moveable event.

Topsy turvy world. Where today's tomorrow will always exist. Mind-blowing realisation.

Topsy turvy world. There are times to sit still, and times to stand up, and times to lie down, and times to jump about. I'm just a tiny bit confused as to which time is which.

Topsy turvy world. I'm a pianist with bandaged up arms and in need of painkillers. I'm a mathematician with a weird inability to engage brain to remember that the symbol "3" is vocalised by the word "three" (or any other numbers for that matter). I'm a weird twitchy frightened-of-the-world person with jobs which require calmness and control.

Topsy turvy world. Or maybe it is topsy turvy me, and the world was boring all along. Or maybe both.



[I've got a little voice of someone who I used to go to school with sitting within my skull behind my right ear sitting on a swing waggling their legs and going "Topsy turvy, topsy turvy." I liked this boy, we used to sit and do sums together aged 6 (he was also a quiet somewhere-at-my-end-of-the-spectrum kid), but right now Jim is driving me a little crazy. And I'm avoiding slapping my head to try and dampen him because he was one of my friends so hurting him would be a bad idea. He also became a fairly big part of my life aged 15 as we used to try the most preposterous science experiments possible that we could get away with. Including growing things on Petri dishes from the contents of his shoe (and then persuading the school to keep them in warm conditions for 2 weeks)... Still, his 7-year-old voice is getting on my nerves. Topsy turvy, topsy turvy.]