The weirdest thing happened to me and despite the fact that it sounds like the plot to a comedy routine, it is true. Last night I had quite a graphic dream that I was trapped in a house that I couldn't escape from. Every time I tried to leave I was running furiously away but not moving and suddenly I was back in the house. Every door was locked and I was being occasionally checked on by a fierce female security guard, I never saw her face in the dream but she was cruel and bullying and took great delight in mocking me for the fact that she seemingly controlled my whole life and that I had no say in anything I did. 

I woke up with a strange feeling of dread, every now and again I wake up from a dream not quite knowing if it was a dream or not. Just recently I have been having anxiety dreams about being late and having to hurriedly check the time when I wake up just to check that it isn't four o'clock in the afternoon. Being a suffocated prisoner in a house is quite a harrowing thing to wake up to and it took me a good few minutes to calm down. Laying on the bed wide awake and stroking Jack to calm myself down I reached for my phone. The first message I read was from my estranged wife who I haven't seen since I left her, I can't remember the year for some weird reason but I think it was 2006. My memory of those days is thankfully very hazy as the trauma of that relationship is something that is buried deep inside my head. Anyway, the message from her was a jokey reference to the fact that today should be our eleventh wedding anniversary. 

Once I was over this I reflected on my life as I am prone to do whenever I am forced to think about those days. I sometimes wonder where I would be and what I would be doing if I had not got it together to escape this life of abuse. The answer is that I would be in one of two situations, the first would be dead. There was a time when I thought that suicide would be the only way I could get out of the horrendous situation I was in. If I hadn't killed myself then I would be stuck in the most depressing rut with unfulfilled ambition and the knowledge that I was never going to be allowed to be creative and having to spend each day surrounded by four claustrophobic walls. Death would have been the preferable option.

Last night I filmed the final episode in this current season of The Random Sessions, which involved me being in a pub. Tonight I am going to a gig in which I will be watching a band of women, and will probably talk to them. Last year on the 31st I filmed two episodes and then was interviewed by an attractive journalist who moved in for a snog after drinking together all evening. Life can get better if you can escape from the prisoner life and I would encourage anyone to just run and never look back.

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