London is empty. Crossing the roads by South Kensington station, I could see right down Pelham Street to Bibendem, right down Onslow Square to Theo Fennell\’s and right down the Old Brompton Road to Waterstone\’s. The Mayor – the idiosyncratic if not totally idiotic Ken Livingstone, will be delighted that there are no cars but there are no bicycles either. I don’t suppose he cares much about trade.

“I see skeletons… I can’t talk about things like that in a group therapy session.”

Actually, I have heard things like that – and worse – described in group. Sometimes, I sense, as a deliberate attempt to shock. In this patient’s case, I certainly wouldn’t push her towards discussing anything in group until she is ready to do so, if ever. There is a general principle, however, that the more we hang on to things, and keep them to ourselves, the more likely we are to stay stuck.

Compulsive helping leads to excessive risk taking, which leads to overspending, which leads to overworking, which leads to not sleeping and getting overtired, which leads to over-eating, which leads to poor self-esteem, which leads back to compulsive helping. My various addictive behaviours all tie in together. I am sure there are other ways in which they interlock but that isn’t the point: what really matters is that I can’t pick them off one at a time. I have to deal with all of them because otherwise the cycle starts all over again.

Being abstinent from addictive substances is relatively straightforward for me. I don’t take recreational drugs, I never have. Nor mood-altering prescription drugs, I very rarely take any at all. I don’t eat sugar or white flour and therefore I do not crave for more and more. I do not drink alcohol because it is a refined carbohydrate and it would stimulate my eating disorder all over again. I don’t use nicotine or caffeine because they cause irritation and headaches so that I don’t sleep and all the behavioural addictions would kick in once more.

Tackling the addictive behaviours is challenging because one cannot be totally abstinent: one has to use the behaviour in the way that non-addictive people use them. I work in a helping profession but I stop short of compulsive helping – in which I need to be needed and believe that I always know what is best for other people. I work very hard but only on productive things. I no longer take on activities in order to feel important. I take the same risks as any other businessman. I don’t gamble, not even on the lottery. My assets significantly exceed my liabilities. I have no craving for more personal possessions. I am content with what I’ve got. I get tired when I overstretch myself in the struggle against a controlling and oppressive government, but putting my free-market philosophy into practice is what my life is about. It is channelled creatively towards doing what I want to do, not driven by destructive addictive urges.

I have now got what I value in recovery: peace of mind in spite of unsolved problems, happy and mutually fulfilling relationships, spontaneity, creativity and enthusiasm. Working a Twelve Step programme on a continuing daily basis gives me incalculable rewards. I am very fortunate to have been introduced to it and to have the opportunity to continue to receive its benefits through introducing it to others – primarily on an anonymous basis, not simply in my professional life – and thereby keeping it constantly in mind as a spiritual blueprint for life. I don’t want to go back on the treadmill.

I’ve been in my hammock in the garden all afternoon. It was cold and there was more cloud than sun but I was warm enough fully dressed under an eiderdown. Our housekeeper is on a beach in Spain. I don’t envy her.

“He took me to the mosque and said ‘I’m divorcing you’. We were just coming up to our silver wedding anniversary.”

The clash of cultures was never more evident.

Down in the field we have an old cast iron bath. It is probably quite valuable but we use it for the sheep to drink out of. Some ramblers called at the cottage yesterday to ask if they could have it. Meg said we like it and want to keep it. Our sheep deserve to live in style. We do.

We left London early on Thursday evening in order to get to Kent in time to see our daughter Nicola and her family, who have been staying in our cottage for a week, before they go off to France for a few days. We arrived in time to watch the news on television. It was almost all about wars in other parts of the world and terrorist activity at home. I looked at the children and realised that the predominantly peaceful life that I have lived – and which has been a contrast to the experience of my parents who lived through two world wars – may not be handed on to them.

Professional gardeners are very snooty about buddleias, describing them as weeds. But butterflies love them. At the Recovery Centre we used to have several buddleias by the pond but they have been pulled out. The end result is that whereas previously we had a cloud of butterflies of many species, we now have almost none. I have given instructions to plant buddleias again and to put a guard around them to protect them against the landscape gardener on his next visit.

Gamblers in the UK spend £800 each year for every adult and child in the population. Granted that the Manchester United and England footballer Wayne Rooney has single-handedly used up the quota of many other people, it is still a huge figure. Evidently it excludes internet gambling, which is growing fast. I presume it also excludes the lottery and premium bonds and I take it for granted that it excludes stocks and shares and underwriting at Lloyds.

The Registrar General’s abstract of statistics reveals that the average family spend more on cigarettes and alcohol and gambling than they do on housing. Oh Brave New Welfare State.

I am a producer: I generate, through my taxes and through the employment that I have created for others, more than I consume. I am rich: I possess more than I need for survival. I am very privileged: I do what I choose to do rather than what I am forced to do.

These three things – production, possession and privilege – go together. Take away any one and the other two collapse. The idealist Left would say that this should not be. The realistic Right would say that this is the way it is.

I use myself as an example of what I believe to be universal truths. Given the opportunity, people will do what they want to do and they will benefit themselves and other people in the process. Take away the opportunity for individual expression and the right to retain the product of their labours and they will become dispirited and unproductive.

Kid yourselves not, big brothers, I shall never work for you. I work for me – and a lot of other people benefit from that single-mindedness of mine. My staff work with me, not for me. I pay their salaries and that’s the end of it: the money is theirs and they have total right to do whatever they want with it. They, in turn, have produced and now possess and have privilege. I create the expansion of the business by taking risks and investing in the ideas that I believe would give me an advantage over my competitors. Take away the drive and the whole edifice would collapse for me and for everyone else.

My ethic is The Objectivist Oath of Ayn Rand:

I swear, by my life and my love of it,
That I will never live for the sake of another man
Nor ask another man to live for mine