It is so hot! I am so bloody hot. It is like an oven here. The Turkish TV has been on all day. It has been blaring about Cyprus and I am hot and bothered. Cem Uzan is a billionaire that has had his properties and helicopters confiscated by the government. I find that very confusing. Overall, I find the political situation confusing. Which side to take? What is the right side? I am cooling down now. I hate Turkish news.

Now mum has switched to other Turkish stuff. Cem Uzan’s helicopters have been confiscated. Corruption in Turkey is rife.

I have just walked the dog and it is bitterly cold outside but inside is like an oven. I wonder if it is my menopause? I woke up at 9am today. Read for a while and tried to get myself organised, because I have University tomorrow. I have to phone several places.

I have been hearing voices and they have been calm and collected. I have been ill that’s why. I took two days off. My counsellor has pleurisy. I am bombarded by work. I have painted two paintings that I hope will give me justice. I feel so ill and depressed. I spent four days in bed.

11-02-04

I have really cheered up since I last wrote. I am still hot and thirsty but I’m in a better frame of mind. Steve came today. Steve is my computer man. He showed me how the computer works. I am really pleased with the work done. I’ve printed the images and really they are good. Mum wants me to retouch grandfather and grandmother. I am happy to do that if I can. I think I can.

I was painting yesterday. On Monday I couldn’t paint. So what I did was re-prime the canvases. I need a lot of money for cartridges. I don’t think I’ve got a lot but maybe I can get some from my disability.

12-02-04

I am thirsty and my eyes hurt. As I write I am thinking of what I’ve done during the day. I finished my picture. All I need to do is paint some writing on it. All I need to do is study and think collectively. For the first time in months I prayed to God.

Mum asked, “Am I to blame for your madness?” I don’t know if anyone is to blame. A part of me is certain that if certain things were different I wouldn’t be ill, but who knows? We did have a good chat I must admit.

A student called Becky talked to me. Fazil checked on her to see that she did because I said I wanted to talk to someone. I feel like a spoilt bitch. We talked for twenty minutes about my life and her life. Becky is a nurse and worked in hostels. She is thirty-four years old and has made something of her life, whereas mine is full of bitterness and regret. I can’t seem to cheer up. I just can’t. It seems beyond me.

Who am I? That is the problem. I don’t know. A terrible puzzle runs in my head. What am I? Who knows? I do this and I do that and nobody knows me or wants to know me. I kissed Derek today it was a friendly kiss! I wish it was somebody else, I wish I can communicate.