I really did think that once I raised the flag and
signalled for reinforcements, that I would be helped a little quicker than what
the Falklands were, I did my initial appraisal and I spoke to a professional
person for the first time in over twenty years, I believe I was a good boy I
certainly didn’t over egg the pudding.
Do I want to harm myself?
No!
Do you wish to harm others?
No!
Are you willing to take anti-depressants?
That would be a hell no!
I felt better, I was in longer than I thought I would be,
I spoke longer and in more detail than I thought I could, the quiet charm of
the lady did the trick, she took notes and it was all good to go, there had
been no negativity, and the upshot was I would be seen within the next six to
eight weeks, I sat and waited.
Eight weeks later I received a letter, actually I
received a rather thick letter, it turns out that it was another form to fill
that looked vaguely familiar, it was it was all the questions I had been asked
at my appraisal, in the same order and everything, and a rather draconian cover
note stating that if I did not respond within five working days the matter
would be considered closed. WTF? So I sat and answered the questions slightly
different, why because I was in a different place a different frame of mind,
but the blackness was seeping back in!
Every day I ask the same question “is there any
post” to receive the stock answer “no
just the usual shite” every day that was like a rock fired from a
trebuchet hitting the same spot every
time slowly but surely breaking through the defences, slowly but surely
chipping away at the remnants of my confidence, trying to be happy go lucky and
not winning every time, I felt like a boxer dead on my feet (and the original
title of this chapter) taking hit after hit and looking to my corner hoping
that they would throw the towel in, so I didn’t have to go through the
onslaught of my day!
A lot of the people who I work with and I dare say a few
more who know me probably think that I have a happy go lucky demeanour (notice
I didn’t put the wife or family in with that lot) but my inside emotions and
general unhappiness are grinding away at me and I struggle on a daily basis to
keep an even keel, sometimes when in meetings I just want to punch some poor
person because in the grand scheme of things what they are waffling on about is
of no great consequence. Thankfully I have been able to get some time alone,
usually while travelling to and from work and I appear to have the look of a
serial killer as people very rarely want to sit next me, I can only assume that
I’m giving off a vibe! But I’m grateful of the time alone to try and figure out
my issues, in a never ending full circle. Someone who has these issues will probably
understand, where I am coming from but the most of people will just think that
I’m a whinging bastard, I’m inclined to agree with them, in reality what I have
been going through is nothing compared to some of the trauma that others go
through (hopefully when my therapy finally starts something resembling an
explanation will help my weary brain) was it just the wrong thing at the wrong
time? I have no idea and that is what has been driving me ever since that day.
It wasn’t my intention to write at every step of my
treatment, with me thinking that indeed my treatment (or whatever you want to
call it) would be well underway, But it’s not and I’m sinking and sinking fast
I feel a certain kind of malevolence towards the world in general, my get up and
go has fucked off (I’m sorry there’s no other way to say that particular
statement) I like to think myself as being quite self-motivated, give me a
task and I will be the person to get it
done, I try and keep up with the front of the pack, but now I am stepping
further and further back into the pack, I’m not the helpful person I want to
be, I’m not as polite as I know I can be and I look at every task as though
it’s a major problem, when in reality they are only small piddley issues!
My eating habits are becoming silly again, not eating
through the day at all simply because I will fall asleep after anything to eat,
then munching through whatever there is the cupboard, I have tried to stop
drinking in the house, because that doesn’t help. Although I have rarely drank
at home, but if I drink I get the munchies and if I’m in the house well let’s
just say there is a seemingly endless supply of food to get me through my
unhappiness, My family I despair for, as none of this is of their doing and I
will admit I’m not a troublesome troll trawling through the day looking for
trouble, but I don’t think that I’m the nicest person in the world, Again that
could just be my perception! My temper is shortening and the wife always thinks
of me as stubborn! As I have stated many times she has never seen me be
stubborn and I hope that she never will, but it’s a course of action that I
head as a matter of point every time now, that’s not good for our relationship,
a relationship that has it’s bad points on both sides of the fence, but this is
one I should be able to shake, this is something that happened 32 years ago why
should this one random act still have its claws stuck in me like a rejected
lover from an eighties subplot of a crap film.
It’s beating me, I am admitting that here and now, my
reserves are slowly ebbing away and I don’t want to fight the good fight, no that
does not mean that I want to self-harm, I am not suicidal, but I do want the
world to fuck off, and with that I mean the world his uncle his dog and
everything that goes with it, I feel the need to be spiteful, so that I can cut
the mooring ropes from the island that is called friendship, those few
remaining people that are willing to help me bring me from out of the cold (and
they know who they are, but even after reading this they will never comprehend
how much they have helped me over the last five or six years)is there more of
my father in me than I care to own up to (how would I even know I haven’t seen
him in forty one years) is there a desperate need to be alone by myself and to
cover myself in solitude, and the unhappiness that I seem to crave, is that the
one thing that will make me happy?
I don’t even want to contemplate that, I want the wife
and the two kids and my dog (no matter how much I seem to deny it), I want
friendship, I want people who like me just because I’m a regular kind of guy, I
will never be the leader of the pack (I have never wanted to be) I just want to
wake up and like myself. Many times I have written replies to people who talk
to me about my blogs, and I always say as long as I can wake up happy then it’s
a good day to be alive, and I genuinely do feel that way about life, I’m not
too concerned about the general lack of disposable income, as I have said many
times I have never had much and by the looks of things I never will, but as
long as I’m happy when I wake up I consider myself a very lucky man. Add the
poison that has been slowly infecting my waking and un-waking hours, it’s a
miracle that I have managed to get this far! My wife has helped tremendously
and I know it hasn’t been plain sailing; she has helped shore up my defences
simply for being there to talk to me at the right moment, there is a silent
understanding of sorts, I’m not saying that she has a deep understanding of me
and my many issues, but she has stood by me through the bad times and the worse
times, thankfully I can say she has been the cause of most of the good times!
I will continue to monitor the post, to see if anything
new arrives some glimmer of hope, I have tried all of my tricks and I’m a spent
force at the moment that small glimmer of hope has faded like the summer that
was just starting as I asked for a helping hand, autumn races past us like a
formula one car hurtling towards the darkness that is winter and those long
cold months where when I most need the sunlight it’s mainly blotted out by my depressive
nature and my intention of not being allowed to lead a normal life.
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