The “reboot” seems to be working. Instead of worrying about where in the story I am writing, I am just concentrating on the parts that I already know. I can deal with those I do not know when I need to. Here is a little taste of what I’ve written.
“The sensations were constantly on the edge of my awareness, but it seemed that if I held completely still, I could keep control. This was documented before in my earlier entries. However, from Jack’s log, one can also infer that in spite of my apparent control, his presence still affected me strongly. Though I could block out other sensations, his were too close to me. The proximity of him, or perhaps our previous emotional connection established by our marriage and intimate relationship, was too much for me to keep out. (I am writing this with the assumption that the reader accepts our findings as truth. I understand it will be hard for the scientific realm to accept this, but there seems to be no other logical explanation for the symptoms and manifestations of this disease.) Jack’s emotions and sensations were always intertwined with my senses. At times, I would open my eyes, and instead of the white ceiling above my bed, I would see Jack’s reflection as he looked at himself in the mirror, or I would see the gravel on the path in the park as he walked near our apartment. It scared me, because I thought I was simply imagining these things. After all, how could one actually see through the eyes of another? I am not simply speaking metaphorically, as one would say, I feel what you feel, I empathize. No, these sensations were quite real. It was as if I were Jack, and when he looked in the mirror at himself, I saw him, as he sees himself. I try to write this as clearly as possible, but I fear the only way to truly understand it is to experience it. (In this way, other victims of this disease should be able to understand my logs better than those unaffected.) I lay in terror of my own mind because I was experiencing the emotions and sensory input of others, or at least I thought I was. I could not be sure that what I was experiencing was actually what Jack was experiencing, and so, it was entirely possible that I was indeed hallucinating and my mind was inventing these sensations. After all, schizophrenia often manifests such hallucinations. I did not want to believe anything that came into my mind. Jack’s presence was a comfort and a torture at the same time. I could not trust the feelings that seemed to emanate from him because I could not trust myself.”