Vigil in a wilderness of mirrors

It finally happened I received an appointment, my treatment is actually going to happen, I had been rereading the drivel that was the first ninety nine chapters, I was determined to stop feeling sorry for myself, I had returned to writing with a vengeance, most of which will never see the light of day, random thoughts on nothingness, just written because I could, a number of note books filled with the written (scribbled) word. I had started to climb the hill again, determined not to be pushed back, determined not to take any prisoners and as a whole my outlook had indeed been positive (well for me), work was overwhelming me simply with the amount, but not beating me, I was trying to do my best in all of my walks of life, this was a good time for me, not the best but positivity seemed to be keeping me company and I was grateful of his presence as both daytime and night time had gone to a level playing field and a truce with my issues seemed to have been called!

I received a letter telling me that I had a date with destiny, and that set my hopes soaring, not off into the stratosphere, but I genuinely feel as though somebody had thrown me out a line. The build up to the appointment was what Christmas is portrayed as, a heady mix of excitement and of not knowing what’s coming your way. I went to work and I have to admit I was on tender hooks the day couldn’t go quick enough, I clocked out and had done an early shift so as not to lose any work time, my lift dropped me off at the designated area, and I walked through the door full of dread and awe!

I was met by the same receptionist I had seen since day one and she asked me yet again to fill in the same forms that I had done while awaiting for treatment, the look on my face must have said it all, as she informed me “you won’t have to fill these in again” then I sat and waited, the only other occupant of the waiting area was a gentleman who was obviously strung out on some form of medication as he sat and ticked and twitched waiting for his allotted time. Then the door swung open and my name was called, it felt like a dream, like slow motion, my doctor was female and younger than me (isn’t everybody :- younger than me that is) I followed her down the corridor to the room where I done my previous assessment (thank god for the daylight in this instance as well) and then we talked, and yes  I got emotional, I told my tale, she listened, asked relevant questions and actually pointed me to a safe harbour when I got really emotional (how the hell did that happen) the levee burst and it wasn’t the stream of raw emotion I had expected, I felt relatively detached from it, I felt I was sat in the corner watching other people converse. But no that was me and I just let it go, told the truth didn’t hold it back and it felt just like Christmas, a sense of wonder and genuine happiness, as soon as it had started it was over and I was told I would be seen the same time on the same day the next week, was that it?  I was shell shocked I didn’t understand, had I done something wrong, no I hadn’t my hour was up! It had felt like ten minutes but no it had flowed so quickly, did I feel better after it, I’m not sure I just know I didn’t feel unhappy so  that in itself was a good thing.

The following week I turned up on time for my appointment having dissected the previous weeks appointment in my head over and over again, looking for things  that hadn’t sat right or things where there could be issues, or even if they had decided I was at fault, I couldn’t see it, I was so unsure of myself this was unfamiliar territory, I was trying to cling to familiar bits of wreckage, the flotsam and jetsam that usually swirl through my life (in my mind at least) but there was nothing to cling to my mind was off on flights of fancy elsewhere, I have to admit my concentration wasn’t as good as it should have been at work, was I overthinking this? I had to give my head a shake, I couldn’t see any negatives, I didn’t trust this, I was feeling decidedly uneasy (but confident) as I sat down for appointment number two. The wind was blowing in a different direction and although I was caught off guard I really shouldn’t have been. This time this was all about my family my life before the army, I know I got antsy about the term broken home and the Dr scribbled furiously as I said I wasn’t from one, but it all seemed positive, again it seemed like ten minutes, and again I was being led out back through the locked door back to reception, I still felt good, I just wasn’t sure what this was going to achieve, I truly was in uncharted waters but I was told we would have a game plan at the next appointment, this time I really did go over everything, I made written notes on the way home and again I was surprised how much I had spoken over the sixty minutes and how little prompting there had been, it flowed slowly but passionately (I Hope) and truthfully, I wasn’t sure what was going on, but surely there had to be more to it than this, why had I not come forward to ask for help before this, then I remember the army method of stilted questions and my surly approach of one word grunts and the Dr reaching for his prescription pad, me walking out ripping at the end of the appointments tearing up the prescription, not trusting the system in anyway shape or form.

Then my life was turned upside down, my problems paled into insignificance, my best friends had their world ripped to bits, I have written about them frequently although never named, but if you know me personally then you know who they are! E has been my biggest ally in my fight with my problems, with quiet confidence she pushed me to blog, initially after enjoying the first few and realising that I was a happier person for doing them, E had had a stroke and also a possible aneurism, me and the wife are devastated, and we have actually spent the last week trying to do some kind of support system for G who is a rock amongst the maelstrom of devastating emotions that have shock all of our friends this week, what has this got to do with the book I have been writing about my emotional state, well to be honest everything, the friends I have now are more precious to me than any other friends that I have had at any other time in my life, they take me for the person that I am now and have shown me so much courage and have empowered me to take charge of this thing we called life, I have no intention of losing any of them not now after having struggled this hard to find them.

In amongst all of this turmoil I had to go for my third appointment, and I wasn’t feeling it, I hated the world and his uncle, the unfairness of life how a person can be stuck in a microcosm of life, as the world continues to spin through the darkness called space, I have struggled to find answers to continue with everything this week, this week’s appointment was a rerun of week one, verifying my facts probably, seeing if I’m a liar well that’s how I felt, I felt a fraud like I was cheating, one of my best friend’s lying there fighting for survival and here’s me whinging for my existence. With all of my heart I would swop places instantly, I feel as though their life means more to others than mine, I know as this part of the book is read by my wife I am in trouble, I don’t care at this moment, I make no excuses for feeling emotional, the out pouring of love for both E & G is overwhelming, nobody would miss me that much and she deserves so much better, a nicer more honest person you wouldn’t meet anywhere, the treatment hasn’t helped me this time and all of my dark feelings have turned up with all their friends and then some! Thankfully as I did a good deed and walked A to the metro after she had visited one night through the dark university grounds,  she discussed how her treatment had gone, as she had just completed her treatment for completely other reasons, she gently coaxed out of me how it was going and gave me just a little shove in the right direction, otherwise I think I would have foundered my bilge pumps had stopped working and I was indeed going down, and I was going down without a fight, I didn’t want to go back to the hospital thankfully she guided me back towards some light, that first wave had nearly sunk me, I have to admit that it was more like a tsunami than a wave and I have been pointed the back in the right direction to a safe shoreline, I pray every night for both of my friends and I realise that my problems amount to nothing compared to theirs, at this moment I need a star to guide me and that star is lying in a hospital bed fighting for her very existence, At this point I feel the need to point out that my wife is now and has always been my rock these last twenty two years, she has saved my sanity, but she is helping so many others and is having to deal emotionally with so much, I can’t drag her down with me, other friends although not taking the full brunt have all pointed me in the right direction, all at the same time and I will thank (and name them all) in full in the foreword of this book, I feel so helpless and I don’t feel at this moment in time I’m actually helping anybody.

Where do we go from here?

January has arrived with some unusual weather for the time of year, but nothing has arrived from the NHS, I’m still going through every day with some semblance of expectancy, checking the mail and my hopes are continually being dashed on a regular basis, it’s only now that I realise the roller coaster of emotions that I have been on, thankfully the lows have not been as bad as previous times and I think I can actually navigate the seas better than I have been of late.

Having made that grand  sweeping statement, I have discovered the lows that I do experience are as deep as they can go, Am I being touchy feely new age man?, I don’t think I am, over the last thirty years I have experienced some pretty bleak times with some dark thoughts, No I haven’t come to the bottom, the end of my rope or any of the other metaphors you can use regarding the emotional distress I have been suffering, I haven’t wanted to self-harm, or even worse, but the dark moods that cover me are soul destroying, and it’s really hard to get somebody who hasn’t gone through this to understand, you cannot quantify it, the feeling of desolation, the emptiness, the bleakness, it seems that I’m going round and round in crazy (there’s that word)circles, let’s just say I get a little down.

The timescale for treatment is mind boggling, maybe if I had lied and said that I intend to self-harm etc etc,(I have said this before and in reality I know this isn’t the case it takes the time it takes there are other people out there who issues not just me) I would be at least starting my treatment, I know that there is no magic wand, no easy way to resolve the issues that haunt me on a daily basis, trust me even when I seem to be the happy go lucky chap (yes me) on the outside at times I am reliving those six same minutes in my head that have been with me for over thirty something years, some people who know me I think look at me and go “what’s the issue”, at the moment it’s the cycle of thoughts I am having ,well what are  they? Well I have a tendency to think that it’s my fault for what happened (people tell me it’s not, I know it’s not, but try and tell my brain that) it’s my fault for not asking for help before, actually I did but all of the army doctors wanted to do was to give me copious amounts of debilitating drugs, not what I really wanted in the end. When I recently went for both assessments, both health professionals who did exactly the same assessments (talk about being careful, what did they think I was a loon or something) indicated that my issue was that I was a higher functioning patient (WTF) this apparently means that I can function and do quite complicated tasks, while suffering from various anxiety attacks or even deep depression, at the same time I struggle to do some of the more mundane things like fasten my shoes, use keys the type of thing most adolescents take for granted, ask my wife she knows exactly how incapacitated I can become (without alcohol) just trying to do simple tasks!

If you go back to the beginning of this book you will be aware that I have muddled on with my problem for quite a while, I’m not saying anything about the length of time; I’m not trying to set a world record, I know that some people (even some of you who are reading this) have probably suffered worse than me, but to be brutally honest I’m tired of this droning on in my head, I have had enough I would love to be able to be like a normal human being, to have a night where I have uninterrupted sleep, at this point my wife will say that I sleep the sleep of the dead, but if only that was true, I cannot remember a night where I haven’t at some point had a variation of my nightmare for want of a better word in living memory  (that takes me up to at least last Tuesday), I can actually tell you the date (February 28^th 1982)that the problem started, and since that day there is not a night where I have not relived the incident in graphic detail, some nights better than others and some considerably worse, and that’s not including the days where I have a tendency to seem as though in a daze (let’s not go there) where I am actually having a meltdown, People like myself have a tendency to be able to get the hell out of dodge and give my head a shake before the whole world and his dog realise that I’m a total head the ball. The fact that I have decided to write about it and make the whole world (and his dog) aware hopefully won’t make anybody think any worse of me. Actually I don’t care anymore what the world or his bloody dog thinks about me, the only people who concern me are my wife and kids then my friends then on a good day the rest of the world, I would like for my wife to have stop looking out of the corner of her eye, keeping an eye on me, to stop making sure that I am a rational (yeah right) functioning (barely) human being (now we are just asking the impossible).

The fact that I can make small random jokes about my “condition” I think means that I am for some reason finally being able to cope with it, putting my best foot forward and actually asking for that helping hand has batted away the little black cloud that usually follows me about and when it gets the chance it nips in and kicks me whenever it has the chance to do such a thing, it’s sneaky but it’s almost like I know when it’s going to happen thankfully since last May it happens on a less regular basis, that doesn’t imply that it sometimes doesn’t get me on the ropes from time to time, but I have a much better determination not  for it not to beat me.

Am I repeating myself? I probably am, here we are in January, waiting for something to happen (treatment wise) is it too much to ask, I asked for the assistance in May of last year, I was honest (what a fool) I didn’t exaggerate, I was brought (dragged) up as a good boy, I told the truth and here we are seven months down the road no further forward, I do however continue to try and educate myself I return to the memory exercises that I was taught after I came out of the army, they did indeed try to help, but I might as well have fought in the first world war for all the good it did the help that I received was the standard for the day thankfully it has improved another reason why I probably hung on before I asked for help again, that was the standard at the time and I gratefully accepted what was offered, Ok so I had to be dragged to the first few appointments, and the threat of being sectioned under Military law (because I was still under that jurisdiction as part of my discharge) and them to drag me off (and trust me those boys would have) and put me in one of their loony bins, they still had military hospitals in those days that goes to show you how long ago it was. 

So as I’m writing these chapters on a monthly basis for my own sake really, maybe in the vain hope that this looks like a some kind of road map to my problem, so with not a lot going on it appears that the chance of me completing this as a book itself will soon grind to a halt because if I publish this drivel you will all be clamouring for me to “sectioned” let’s keep my fingers crossed and the hope as high as I can, because at the moment the Chinese water treatment I’m receiving isn’t helping matters.

Ring out solstice bells

 

I seem to have been in a better frame of mind these last four weeks, with good intention and a positive outlook, the last month of the year has been generally quite positive, sleeping habits quite normal, eating habits normal, and a weather eye on all that goes on with my mood barometer. My blogging has been helping me, the NHS hasn’t or should I say hadn’t, I finally got my (final) appraisal, we were bang on time for the appointment unlike the person who was there to conduct my appraisal, I saw him hurrying between parked cars going to a staff entrance I didn’t know that he was the person I was seeing, I just noticed how harried he appeared to be, I enquired as if my wife could attend as she might have literally given some fresh insight, but that was frowned upon. I turned up at the right venue this time so was quite calm although apprehensive to be given for the third time the same forms to be filled in before I went through, do I want to hurt myself, do I need drugs the same monotonous questions, I answered them like a robot barely looking at them, I was at the point where I was about to turn around and walk away and be done with it, if this was considered as help fuck them I didn’t want to do it.

Thankfully the gentleman turned up literally as quick as I had completed the forms, I was led through a locked door to an office that was quite sparse but there was daylight (I remember I was thankful of the daylight) and then it began, and I remember feeling spiteful and bitter but not really remembering what we talked about, this was a slightly different tack, but I wasn’t bothered anymore I let my defenses down and answered the questions as truthfully as I possibly could, well I feel as though I did, again I have little memory of the actual conversation, I just felt deflated but not in a bad way. And as quickly as it began I was told I would be eligible for Cognitive Behavior Therapy, but (there’s always a but) I would have to go on a waiting list, I didn’t care I stumbled out to the wife who had sat and waited patiently for me, (I had been over ninety minutes) as I left I remember starting to feel angry, but why I have no idea, the feeling soon left me and the day became just like many others with a feeling of sloth locked in my prison that I have created called home.

But something was different, a seed had been planted and I actually felt better more motivated than I had been in a long while, I wasn’t intending to waste it, I intended to use it for my advantage. The month progressed (as the year has) at a great pace we lost the old man of the house and I was upset, come on a family pet for over seventeen years, I have a reputation for having a heart of stone but I was moved as much as anybody else in the house, He is going to be a huge hole in our life’s needing to be filled, No more pets I couldn’t deal with the emotional wreckage that comes with it. What did come as a surprise was the how well I actually did handle it.

I felt different and although it seems like a horrible thing to say, I felt stronger because of it. I still look for him in his lying places (different places for when it was hot) and I sometimes just sometimes go to unlock the back door to let him out when I’m on early shift, old habits die hard. The month progressed I had more things to think about than me for a change, the wife wasn’t well and thankfully she was going to be seen too (thankfully a lot faster than me) and that was a good thing, hopefully we can chip away at the issues she has (me being one of them) and make her a healthier person in the new year.

I hadn’t had an attack at all in the last month of the year, Then I let down my guard too soon and on Christmas day I had the biggest attack since May, when this thing came to ahead, thankfully I was by myself in the kitchen, trying to sort out the dinner, the wife noticed and thankfully backed off when I answered, I don’t know it was because of what I said or the way that I answered. I fought hard for what seemed to be forever probably not more than ten minutes but I counter attacked, I wasn’t surrendering I was going to be in charge of my day, the bad emotions turned and high tailed  it away, I was full of mixed emotions after the attack happy that I had repelled it but miserable that I had let it get so close that it vaulted my defenses and landed a good few solid blows to my train of thought, I will admit I was bloodied and on the ropes I was heading to the canvas, but inside me was something that was telling me, willing me, screaming at the top of its lungs… GET UP, DO NOT GO DOWN, MOVE, MOVE, MOVE and I did as it told me to I did not go down I stopped I fought back, this as I sit and type sounds melodramatic. I do not intend to let this beat me, the fact that I have asked for assistance proves to me at least, that enough is enough, this is a different me, this is not the same person that I was in May when I was stood in public close to tears, one day at a time going forward,   I refuse to go down I refuse to go down I simply refuse to kowtow I will not be beaten.

 

 

Cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) is a psychotherapeutic approach that addresses dysfunctional emotions, maladaptive behaviors and cognitive processes and contents through a number of goal-oriented, explicit systematic procedures. The name refers to behavior therapy, cognitive therapy, and to therapy based upon a combination of basic behavioral and cognitive principles and research. Most therapists working with patients dealing with anxiety and depression use a blend of cognitive and behavioral therapy. This technique acknowledges that there may be behaviors that cannot be controlled through rational thought. CBT is "problem focused" (undertaken for specific problems) and "action oriented" (therapist tries to assist the client in selecting specific strategies to help address those problems).

 

CBT is thought to be effective for the treatment of a variety of conditions, including mood, anxiety, personality, eating, substance abuse, tic, and psychotic disorders. Many CBT treatment programs for specific disorders have been evaluated for efficacy; the health-care trend of evidence-based treatment, where specific treatments for symptom-based diagnoses are recommended, has favored CBT over other approaches such as psychodynamic treatments.

CBT was primarily developed through an integration of behavior therapy (the term "behavior modification" appears to have been first used by Edward Thorndike) with cognitive psychology research, first by Donald Meichenbaum and several other authors with the label of cognitive behavior modification in the late 1970s. This tradition thereafter merged with earlier work of a few clinicians, labeled as Cognitive Therapy (CT), developed by Aaron Beck, and Rational Emotive Therapy (RET) developed by Albert Ellis. While rooted in rather different theories, these two traditions have been characterized by a constant reference to experimental research to test hypotheses, both at clinical and basic level. Common features of CBT procedures are the focus on the "here and now", a directive or guidance role of the therapist, a structuring of the psychotherapy sessions and path, and on alleviating both symptoms and patients' vulnerability.

I sit here awaiting the New Year with skirling pipes and a fresh start with a cunning plan hoping to go on defeat this issue, I know I’m in a better place than I have been in such a long time, the first step literally has just been taken, but the footing is on solid ground not some shale that will make for a bad footing, hopefully this is the start of something better.  

Abandon Hope

 

Then the darkness comes seeping back like blood flowing  towards a drain hole in a mortuary, after the initial surge of hope and belief comes the downwards spiral, that simple futility that comes creeping back in to all of my waking and non-waking thoughts, wondering why I even bothered, why I thought it would make a difference, even though it did for a few weeks, it was like the phoney war, I thought that all would be well and good, but the false sentiment was soon washed away, my waking hours were filled with dread  and my sleep was taken up by the repeat of that six bloody minutes back in 1982.

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.  

Windswept Thumb

 

The saga as always seems to continue on, my mood seems to be sinking slowly into a deep morose state of affairs; I have been holed below the Plimsoll line and no matter how hard my bilge pump works the amount of water seeping in is taking me down to the depths of despair.  I keep thinking to how I used to deal with my issues back in the day, I would just stick my thumb out and fuck off; maybe it’s something I should have kept doing. But I have been trying to conform to the grand scheme of things for the sake of family maybe (maybe not) that has been the catalyst for my current woes.

I used to wake up and if the day didn’t feel right I wasn’t tied down, my heels carrying my body were soon out the door, heading to where ever I wanted to go, did this help all of the time? No of course not, I am more balanced (yes I laughed at that sentence as well) now than I have been in the last 32 years. Now when my issue raises its ugly head it’s like a concentrated burst, real ugly emotions that’s like a shotgun blast at my legs, it does indeed stop me dead in my tracks.

My relationship with my wife is quite restrictive at times I think she thinks she is helping me with my issues to some degree (and I don’t complain about it as much as I probably should because 99.9% of the time she is and I’m happy) it’s like she has a spy satellite following my every move (paranoid me .. hell yeah!) and when I’m not in a good head space it feels like a strait jacket, it’s not good at generating a good emotional response, you could say I get a tad prickly. Do I have anything to hide? Nothing at all and I have been more open with my wife than anybody else in my life, I have absolutely no secrets, she is my rock, can she be annoying? Hell yeah! Your damn right she can be, but without her the walls would have cracked and crumbled long before now.

But as the waves of bad emotions start to crash against my safe harbour I’m aware that I’m not a fun person to be around (have I ever been?) and the last people who I wish to affect are my family and friends, and so the thought starts to trickle like a dried river somewhere in Africa after a drought there appears to be small signs of life, and it’s now getting to waist level, should I fuck off and use the art of the windswept thumb? See how far I can get? when I was younger It didn’t appear to be too much of an issue and people would stop on a regular basis to pick up the young lad stood at the side of the road, you hear so many horror stories of sicko’s and pervs and all I ever got was nice people looking to help some person that they had never met before and were likely never to again.

How would I take to it after twenty years of easy living I can’t remember the last time I took off and lay out under the stars sleeping out in the open, my moods must have been summer based I don’t recall many times of hitching through bad weather, yes there was the occasional soaking but generally it was quite nice I always travelled light, clean underwear ( I was brought up right) and a change of clothes, t-shirt and jeans in a small knapsack, I had a pocket full of cash not lots but I did all right I knew where to stay, I knew where the youth hostels were in case of an emergency, nowadays I’m a crippled old man who hasn’t ventured very far, other than to work and back seems to be the order of the day, a bloody hamster on a sodding wheel, how does this play into the scheme of everything?

I feel when I’m like this that I’m letting everybody down (I don’t figure in the equation I have always put everybody else in front of me)family friends dammit strangers I don’t even know, I am letting them down by letting these stupid emotions rip through me like a bad case of the shakes, I should be a damn sight stronger than this I thought I was a good person, dependable and straight as a die not a knock kneed slack jawed idiot that is sat here typing away at my computer trying to figure out why I am like this, other people have far worse issues in their life and are not bleating on about (or trying to score points by writing a sodding book)  their issues.

What isn’t helping is the length of time it’s taking for this supposed treatment is to materialise, dammit I asked for help in May here we are the first week in September and I have had an initial assessment then eight weeks later a set of forms asking the same questions, informing me it will be another eight weeks before anything else happens Glaciers move faster than this bloody treatment, maybe I should have said that I was a danger to myself and the public! But I didn’t and to be honest I feel so weak that I have asked for assistance that has had a debilitating effect on my emotional state of mind, I was at such a low ebb that I thought (god knows why) I would see someone, they could wave a magic wand, but no I’m emotionally tongue tied waiting for something which to be quite truthful is probably going to piss me off and see me storm out at the first proper meeting! No it won’t positive thinking I need the help, without god knows where this path leads, not to a happy ending I would imagine, so I need buckle down and play along with the waiting game (tick tock tick tock tick tock)

 

I’m being very childish and stubborn in my personal life, stomping my feet and finding it so hard to converse on a one on one basis it’s so much easier just to be stubborn and wave away the argument, my wife says at times it’s like dealing with a five year old, is she nuts? You can reason with a five year old! You can’t reason with me! I get totally irrational and it doesn’t matter if I’m right or wrong, I just shut down and get stubborn (allegedly). It appears I’m getting very good at being childish (me with my reputation) and I hate having that reputation, I used to be very good at sorting stuff out, dealing with all manner of things, but now I don’t even have a three second fuse I just fly off the handle and steadfastly choose to ignore the world and its uncle.

I have come back to work after a week off and my holiday was a farce I had a list of things (nothing massive just some simple tasks) that I wanted to complete but nope I turned into a bargain basement Howard Hughes! Having said that I didn’t store my pee in glass jars I was able to go off to the toilet all by myself. It was like I was allergic to bright sunlight, I had a great Sunday with friends who lifted my spirits like they wouldn’t believe, but the Monday came with the rising sun and the emotional cripple that is me got up with it, and although I did some of the tasks that I had intended to do, I probably did about 15% of what I had intended to do, this chapter itself was meant to be completed while I was off, but my mood darkened so badly I didn’t dare to put pen to paper  (yes I still write everything out long hand and then polish it until it’s something more than just a stream of consciousness)I blogged at the end of the holiday explaining my predicament and then set myself the task of trying to do something humorous and I had three pretty good ideas for blogs which I have worked on and will publish in quick succession to prove that all is not lost in a sea of morbid  moods!

The fact that I can still do that kind of writing and I do believe it’s some of the best stuff I have attempted (Hell’s bells one of them is my application to be the next Pope, hopefully if you read the blog  you may have chuckled at it at some point) yes my moods are dark more often than  not but there are brief glimpses of good times, I have said many times before I don’t need much, I just want to be happy and to make the people of my acquaintance happy, that I can enrich their life in some little way. I want to get away from anger alternating with misery it really is a crap combination, I don’t like it and I really don’t see why I should have to put up with it!

The thread that runs through my life is my moods, my family, friends and acquaintances! Music has always been a great leveller and I praise anybody who can bring some relief to the world over a good song is a great leveller, a good song be it the Spice Girls through to Frank Zappa is a good song, it does different things to different people if we were all the same in taste the world would be a bland place, music has lifted me and moods on many an occasion, but sometimes to quote a lyric I feel as though “I’m in the lap of the gods” I just want a level playing field for my emotions, I’m sick of being the misery demon sat in the corner I don’t want to be the freak with the grin and the fancy jacket that ties behind either, just a level playing field I don’t want an emotional rollercoaster all of my life!

Because of the length of time treatment is taking I feel so abandoned just left out there, now before I would take on the world by myself, nowadays I just want to be a hermit and hide away emotionally, why should I be like that? I didn’t cause this I just have to live with the aftermath, sometimes it feels like another person’s life in another world, not mine, I feel detached it feels like I’m outside the circle of what’s going on, I’m sat there with people but I can’t here what’s been said, it’s a disturbing new thing that is worrying me more and more.

Another week slides by and I wonder about strange things that wouldn’t normally bother me, but I’m anxious, I’m nervous when I shouldn’t have to be, but I am and I don’t like it, I’m glad I’m recording the emotional journey hopefully it will give the normal person an insight into what can set of or trigger a nightmare scenario for a person who could be sat next to you going through hell and you wouldn’t even know it! Even though I’m recording my thoughts during the waiting process, I know I will have to focus my efforts and reduce some of the ramblings of this jumbled up mind, because some of them just don’t make any sense………..a bit like me then.

Fatalistic Attitude

The tide broke this morning sat in the bath after a lie in and a hearty breakfast, life reared it’s ugly head and bit me firmly in the ass, a wall of despair crashed down on me from a great height and though I did everything in my power to resolve the issue, it took me a lot longer than I thought it would, a voice from downstairs called up and enquired “you alright?” by the time the question was asked I had picked myself up off the floor literally and was pushing myself to go rejoin the human race I didn’t want too but I know I have no choice.

This issue has followed me around for over thirty years, I don’t think I was the happiest camper when I was a kid (hormones and all the crap that goes with being a kid sort of tags along) but I know 100% that I wasn’t the unhappiest. I enjoyed my life as a kid it wasn’t fantastic with sunbeams and rainbows, but I wasn’t abused as a kid I was given plenty of love and affection by the one parent who chose to stay about and be an actual parent, shit happened and we did our best, I’m sure I was a miserable little git at times (all my old mates standing wherever they are in the world and nodding their heads in a agreement)I always over compensated always tried to be the best and brashest person in the group, annoying more than likely is the word but my friends stuck by me through thick and thin, for better or worse and for that I thank them for that with all the gratitude I can muster!

My black cloud tried everything today but it couldn’t keep me down for a count of ten I kept getting back up, but I feel drained now and thankfully it hasn’t come back because I know that it would win this time, there’s nothing left in the tank I just want to get through the rest of the day and climb into my pit and sleep the sleep of the dead with out any intrusions I want to sleep the sleep of dreamless beauty.

I have sat with a glum expression for most of the day and inward expression people have been thanking me for the help that I have given, because I do try to help honestly I do, but happiness and all its little rays of sunshine have not appeared to cheer my bleak little soul. A friend once said that I had a fatalistic attitude, that is where I am at the moment and the help I have asked for is indeed my attempt to do away with it, I’m not wanting to be a raving loon, I’m not wanting to be sat there like a born again Christian saying “praise the lord” or any of that bollocks, I just want that little black cloud to fuck off!

I want to be the master of my own destiny (in a fashion) I know that other things will pool and collect and infect me in a similar way, but this has been with me for 30 plus years, in the words of an Angelic Upstarts song “Go away and leave me alone” thank god for work today although I’m not looking forward to travel home on a plague carrier(in layman’s terms public transport) full of ingrates, but then again that just might be me and my fatalistic attitude!

 

Hit Me With Your Best Shot

Brick wall dead ahead emotions spiraling all around but thankfully positivity has been the order of the last few days, I reckon I could have taken on the world these last two days, but outside negativity and emotional turmoil in a friends life hasn’t been held in check and now I chase after their emotional tails like a fox on the run, I feel like I’m running around a bloody light house with no chance of catching the bloody things!

It’s a long time since I have been this emotionally stable but I can feel the sands filtering away slowly and I’m not sure how to stop it, my life is being like a bloody rollercoaster and it’s been heading upwards for the last couple of days I prefer when it keeps to an even keel, I’m like a kid in the seventies having a rush with all the additives, and I can see the wall, I can see it sitting there smugly, lulling me into a false sense of security knowing full well it will knee cap me (emotionally) sooner rather than later.

As I type this all I can say is bring it on, at this moment in time I could take on the world I really don’t care, who or what it is come on ya bastard! But no it’s content to sit there like the malevolent force that my brain is. It is gearing up to grind away like an old siege machine on a castle wall and just grind me into submission, but it’s not all about me though is it, if it was just about me then I would be fine and dandy walking down the street clicking my heels, good feelings never last and I dread having them because I know what’s at the other side, I feel as though I have done everything in my power to brace the coming storm I didn’t understand why all of a sudden I had this upturn in my emotional  wellbeing, I soon gripped the side when I realized it was heading out into the stratosphere, I knew I had no other option but to hang on, that’s why I have been so tired on the nighttime my emotions have just wiped me out completely, sleep has been like the sleep of the dead with no recollection of anything, a good thing most would think considering what I go through most nights, I’m not happy about it, at least this time I have been enjoying the moment and staying happy for as long as I can living within the moment feeling all the sharp things trying to burst my bubble.

So far so good but this is virgin territory for me and all the things that go with it, my emotions normally fall like domino’s and this time they aren’t what kind of new hell is this going to turn into, my bubble is intact but wearing thin and I would rather have it burst now not when I’m away from home , not at work, not travelling I know I am going to struggle with this one, I know I’m going down but I intend to go down swinging, I’m frightened but relaxed about it, and that in itself is a huge weight off my mind, but it’s all new, I’m not happy I’m itchy about it and still the emotions are running thick and fast I want to drink (I have resisted) I want to eat (I have resisted to a much better degree than normal) I feel as though I want to go and howl at the fucking moon!

Anger is the emotion that does the damage and I can’t vent it really, it is just one long primal scream, blood on my conscious, impending doom waiting with his co-conspirator paranoia, anger is not a beautiful emotion and its one I have no idea how to quantify it, I have only ever let rip once before and I trashed an entire bathroom with the sink going through the window (there were other issues like adultery etc etc going on in the back ground) but rather that than end up in jail, not that I have any intention of harming anybody or even myself but anger is there and it has me scared, I’m still at my post I haven’t abandoned all hope, but it knows it has beaten me many times before.

Life passes by and in a blink of an eye it goes from happy to sad, sentimental to angry, level headed to full blown paranoia, so quick it’s like trying to catch lighting in a bottle! So now I sit here on edge deliberately pushing myself to the downward spiral, should I do it because I know it will level out at some point, but will it, or will it just take me down a rabbit hole I have no intention of going. This is my life everyday every night,