A friend of mine once asked me how do I keep going when things are down, how is it that I'm able to remain calm and stay positive when the world is crumbling beneath me. How is it that I'm able to take shit from people, continuously taken advantage of and repeatedly back stabbed? He doesn't seem to understand it and he would ask the same questions over and over again.

My good friend, there are things I don't understand myself. I don't know why I do these things. The truth is I just don't know how to cope with it all. When shit hits the fan there's nothing you can do but to pick yourself back up one step at a time. If you somehow trip over those steps, you just simply have to pick yourself back up and start further down the stairs. There's countless times where I felt like I just wanted to sit down and never get back up and a few times I did.

My good friend as transparent as I may seem I hide my true self in fears that people won't like that they see underneath. You once said to me that I'm far from what they call damaged goods and laughed it off and I totally agree! I could be way more damaged right now but those unconscious decisions I made in those dire times saved what's left of me. No words could really describe the amount of pain and torture I've endured over the years. There are things you forget, there's things you forgive and there are things that you just have to live with and there are also the good old friend Mr Jack Daniels.

My good friend I'm far from calm and collected. Insomnia is a curse brought by endless nights of pondering if life will ever get better but I tend to look on the bright side as when I can't sleep I manifest those feelings into paint and art on a canvas I've hid in the garage. You once said to me it's as if I'm stoned all the time and that I'm not easily phased by anything. I've experienced a car ride as a child, speeding down the highway at 230km/h when a lunatic father wanted to kill us all. Endless nights of being caned because I wanted out of the family and the few times I succeeded to brave the freezing cold in run down houses or parks. To make it worse, being behind the drivers seat blazing through mountain passes hoping for the car to slide off its tracks or pretending brick walls are punching bags and then getting acquainted with my art scalper. So really, surprise me. If you can top the adrenaline rushes I've had during those times then show me.

My good friend you seem to think I smile a lot and well, that frankly, isn't something I can help. I naturally like to laugh because I find things around me amusing. I've grown up in a family filled with drama, all I've known is despair so it's quite pleasant to have a joke and see other people happy. Sometimes just being alive, just the thought of being able to live another day makes me 'happy'.

But my good friend you're quite right about everything you've said. These feelings don't simply disappear. The other night the thought of ending my life crossed my mind once again and I freaked out. So much so that tears started streaming down my cheeks and I started shaking violently. Could I possibly have spiraled down again into depression?

That's something I'd rather not think about.

You asked me what keeps me going and I answered 'faith'. Truth is I'm not sure why either but something tells me to keep going. You once said I weren't crazy for being so logical and able to work out situations even when I'm on the receiving end of it. But my friend you are me, if it's not insanity for one to argue with oneself then what is?

Time to book myself in with the doctor.