No news is...

I have nothing much to say today, but did want to share this...

Oh Benneth, Where Art Thou?

So this is new. I'm on a train back to Swindon, blogging on my Android phone. Having a full QWERTY keyboard on a mobile phone really is quite awesome. I've had this little beggar about a year and it's still a thing of beauty despite it's short battery life.

I'm heading back to the town of my birth as part of the King's Census... No wait, that's a past life. Ho hum. I'm heading back to give my Dad his advent calendar and try to sort out the problems from Monday.

I've been really low recently. This year and all the ups and downs have caught up with me. I feel like life is just entropy and loss. Mum's death weighs heavy on me. My personal life is a mess.

I was at my worst in a long time on Monday. Dad rang in the middle of this and got it both barrels. I just don't know the man. With Mum gone I have lost my main confidant and now I'm totally lost. Everything I know about Dad came from Mum explaining things to me. He has never opened up to me. My main male role model has always been distant and awkward. I'm almost 30, I can't hide behind that anymore but there is no denying the mark it has left on my life. I'm nervous, under confident and unhappy.

Being self employed maybe a mistake. I have very little company and my brain struggles with the highs and lows of my emotional state being so keenly tied to the shop's figures. Still this week was a good week, maybe Christmas has begun. I have bought a few new albums including the Chase & Status CD. Roll on next summer.

I hope tonight is OK. I'm dreading it frankly. I wish Mum was still here.

Explaining or justifying?

Here it is, my own North Channel Swim Challenge record card. I've decided to dub this week as a rest week. But is that explaining why I haven't been swimming this week or justifying my laziness? Ugh.

Here's some excerpts from an interesting article on swimming the North Channel (taken from active.com):

American team conquers the UK's North Channel

There was a time when Steve Frantz used to have to cling to the side of the pool and catch a breath after a short swim. Now, the 58-year-old attorney has the English, Catalina and North Channel crossings listed on his swimming resume.

Frantz, who makes his home in the Southern California beach community of Cardiff, recently swam the North Channel between Scotland and Ireland with a relay team.

Frantz and his five teammates braved the chilly waters, strong currents and winds in August to become the first American team to swim from Port Patrick, Scotland, to Bangor, Ireland a distance of about 25 miles. They completed the trek in 13 hours, 11 minutes.

According to Frantz, the North Channel is a notch above the English Channel in difficulty in every category. The water temperature ranges from 52 to 56 degrees as opposed to 60 to 64 degrees in the English. The currents and the winds are stronger as well, and then there's the jellyfish.

The plan is to start Monday morning. We'll see how it goes.

A restless night's sleep

Well my sleep has been plagued this week. Some late nights (including ruining a good friend's normal routine) and fitful sleep when I do finally get into bed.

But last night took the prize. I got into bed at a reasonable hour, but then had an incredibly vivid dream.

I won't go into it all, but I had been sectioned in a mental hospital. It was incredibly traumatic. Only one friend came to visit me and frankly after the events of last week I was stunned. Dream logic is odd, there was no explanation as to why I'd been sectioned, but it seemed almost reasonable as I'd had a shit year. The events of recent week were all relevant too.

The one friend who came to visit me is not the person I would have expected either (IE - not the friend whose routine I ruined earlier this week). We got chance to talk about what had happened last week and things took an interesting turn.

Then my Mum arrived which kinda ruined the mood of fledgling romance that had crept into the dream.

Anyway, an odd one. Have fun analysing that one people.

Something shiny!

This post is really to test that a Facebook app is pulling my new blog posts through correctly. But I also wanted to show off this amazing gift I received recently.

Oh and I've discovered backdating blog entries works, so I will pull all the relevant entries off my LiveBlog on Facebook over the next few days. Shiny.

That is all.

New goals

OK, some new goals. Things have sucked recently and I need to keep my head up.


#1 THE NORTH CHANNEL SWIM CHALLENGE
So having finished the Aspire Swim Challenge two weeks early I have become worried that I will become lazy and lose my motivation to go. So I'm setting my own challenge to myself.

I intend to swim the equivalent length of the North Channel between now and Saturday 20th March. The North Channel, (Irish Channel) between the North of Ireland and the Mull of Galloway is 18.6 miles (35 km.).

That's 1051 lengths in my local pool - 13 less than the Aspire Swim Challenge. That's 17 weeks so longer than for the Swim Challenge, but it does allow me to have a break over Christmas as the pool will undoubtedly open at odd times or indeed shut.

I'll keep updating with my progress.


#2 DRIVING THEORY TEST

I've had my provisional license for a while. Still unsure as to whether I can even really afford to learn drive, but I feel it is a skill I should keep working towards. So the goal is to have completed my theory test before my birthday next year. (I'll be 30 - aaargh!)


#3 FINISH MY CURRENT STORY

Whether it turns into a novel or a novella, I intend to stick at it and finish the story. Then we'll see how much work it needs to kick it into shape.


So that's a few to be going on with. Need to have more fun and worry less.

Easier said than done.

The Naming Of Names

This star reminds us that we are born of the stars.
We live in starlight.
We die in starlight.
We come from the stars in life.
And we return to the stars in death.

Your name.
Your place.
Your truth.

Ben Jack Fardon aka Benneth of Swindon, now Cheltenham. I am proud of being English, but am growing to dislike living in England.

My truth?

I am not who I want to be and I fear that no matter what I try I won’t ever be that person. I’m not sure if I can live with that. But I will keep trying.

March ever onwards towards the dawn.

Carrot and stick

A mixed blog.

My birthday was very shiny. Worked on my actual birthday then went for a meal with my Dad at the D-Fly. Very tasty, though sadly no sushi due to some odd mismanagement from the venue. Sigh…

Saturday I worked again then went out for the night with a bunch of friends from different walks of life. A good bunch (even Neil...) and some fun stories. Sadly no pictures. We hit a few pubs then went to the 2 Pigs. It was fairly low key, I guess I’m at that age now!

The following day was the Huskinson family BBQ, complete wiht my own hangover. Then a trip to the Rolly for drinks with some of the old gang. All very good.

Monday was good - thanks to Suzy then Chris and Jo, etc. Crashed a little that night. Had a reasonable day Tuesday and a good evening, then got really low last night.

So I applied for my provisional driving licence online using my digital passport (and my debit card, life in the UK is expensive) and ordered some glasses based on my new prescription. So we’ll see what that brings.

But my THLF brain patch has failed. I keep trying to improve myself but nothing is really changing anything. I have no idea what I’m doing naymore, just casting around aimlessly trying to understand why I get so low, why I feel so trapped and unfulfilled.

It’s not viral. Gandalf The White Blood Cells fought of my cold quite easily in the end. The spinning room early warning sign was very helpful on reflection.

It’s not a lack of trying.

Blah.

Hopefully I can patch the patch and keep going till my Operating System is ready. I spent to much time this past decade faffing with peripherals. Now I’m back to improving the basic hardware and bios. I just wish it wasn’t taking so long.

And I wish there was an end user to help with the beta testing.

Right enough of this. My thoughts are with some friends who are having different but very trying times. Lets hope we can raise a glass to one another in the coming months. Salut!

My new manifesto - THLF aka THLuFf

TIME
HOPE
LOVE
FAITH

My new words to live by.

This month has been a hard month in a grindingly hard year. I really miss my Mum. She was a pain in the ass at times, but she was one person I could talk to about anything and everything.

A lot of things have been getting me down, as evidenced in my last blog (unbroadcast, but it is there). I felt pretty bleak and there were some fairly dark and self destructive thoughts on the Sunday before too.

It has been pointed out by several people that I am too hard on myself. The same is true of many of the people I really care about.

So here is my new manifesto. It’s simply a way of reminding myself to not give up and to keep trying. Sharks die if they stop moving and I feel a certain momentum is required to keep me going. So here it is:

TIME
Simply put, stop wanting everything to be perfect NOW. It will never happen. Keep trying. Be prepared to wait and see. Give yourself time to change, grow and adapt. Yes, you could die tomorrow but don’t beat yourself up because things aren’t perfect. Make plans, have fun, live. So yes, time. Be mindful of its amazing healing properties. All wounds? Perhaps not, but most pain lessens with time.

HOPE
Those of you reading comics, take heed. Those of you reading Green Lantern/Blackest Night especially. The Blue Lanterns are fast becoming my favourite Lanterns. Hope is an amazing thing. And I love that in Green Lantern mythology, hope is useless without willpower.
Also, Galen in Crusade (a spinoff from Babylon 5, the TV show that probably saved my life as a teenager) once wisely said, “There is always hope. Only because that is the one thing no one has figured out how to kill. Yet.”
Hope for better for yourself. Hope for better for those around you and those you love. I’m not going to labour this point, but when it’s dark - find some things to hope for. Doesn’t mean anything will change without you doing something and even then it might not work out, but at least you had a go. To quote someone I know. ;)

LOVE
Simply put, learn to love yourself and those around you.
I never, ever got that whilst Mum was alive. She used to tell me I had to learn to love myself before anyone else could. It seemed like a crock of shit to be honest, but very recently I realised I do.
I like me. I might even say I love me.
I’m not perfect, but I have reduced almost all the thngs about me that I disliked to a minimum and have emphasised my best qualities. The wrapper still needs work, but I’m getting there. I’ve finally found something that works for me.
I can be selfish sometimes, but I think one thing British people do all too often is martyr themselves. We put others first in an attempt to seem morally superior. Often hoping our good deeds will warrant a reward from those we have helped. Don’t be afraid to do what you need to do. Don’t resort to passive-aggressive tactics in social interaction. Be direct and honest with people as to your intentions and desires. It’ll be easier in the long run.
I don’t think loving yourself to the point of arrogance is much use. But a little swagger is no harm at all. I personally refuse to allow another person to make me question my entire self again. If I’m fucking up, I’ll try to fix it. But I’m going to keep this self worth I’m developing and nuture it. :)
Anyway, I digress.

FAITH
The hardest to quantify. I don’t mean religion. I mean faith in yourself and those around you that you trust. If you trust them, have faith in them to be there for you. And have some faith in yourself to make decisions and to stand your ground when it matters. To know how to pick your battles. If part of your life seems fucked, stop and realise its very rare that your whole lfe is a mess even if it feels that way. Think of the other areas of your life that are actually going well and take heart. I have whittled my friends list down to people I have faith in. If you can read this, you are probably a good person in my estimation. This is what I mean by faith in this context.

So there you have it. Very preachy and new age for me. I’m not entirely comfortable sharing it but I need to write it down., These words are mainly for me.

THLF or thluff is by way of trying to take everything positive I’ve learnt this year and actually apply it.

So if I’m freaking out or getting upset, please stop and remind me of this. It might not make a shred of difference at the time, but everything you guys say to me does go in.

It just may take time to process!

If you have been, thanks for reading.

Crap. OR, why I am a rubbish son...

Just tore a strip off my Dad.

He’s been procrastinating over putting in the statement to the coroner regarding Mum for some time. And I finally snapped today.

It won’t bring her back I said. We won’t get any justice. Mental health failed her, but she was sectioned before she died. It will look like they did the best they couldwith a difficult patient. The coroner has aready ruled that turning her didn’t kill her, and whilst it remains suspicious, we can’t prove anything.

Meanwhile real world issues continue to pile up. The shop was supposed to have it’s internet shop and running in time for last Christmas. My Dad was doing it. He is notoriously slow at anything and if you nag him, he will simply just refuse to do it to spite you. Typical fucking Aries.

It was driving Mum mad. She knew how important it was. The webstore is about 90% finished. So, so close.

Her death has understandably put it on hold. But I need it to move forward now. I don’t have the expertise to do what needs doing. Trying to get in a professional now will probably mean starting from scratch and is expense I can’t afford.

I have more national advertising booked in SFX. I hoped to plug the webstore and reach a wider audience. it seems like it won’t happen now.

There are so many things I am unhappy with. I like me. I’ve fnially turned a corner there. I’m managing to retain a sense of self worth without needing constant reassurance from others - though it is pleasant when it comes.

But I hate living in rental accomodation. not the company, my housemates kick ass - but I want a pet! Not that I can afford to look after one properly. I want to be on the property ladder. I have some of a deposit, but no way to afford the mortgage repayments.

I want to go out more, meet new people. But I can’t really afford to go out clubbing at the moment. I’m beginning to despair of my situation. Seriously I’ve had enough.

I’m continuously looking for new goals, new ways to improve myself. My passport application is proceeding. I’m writing again and soliciting feedback. I’m working hard to tighten the shop’s ordering and promote the big titles and products instore. I’m keeping up with the calorie counting, the exercise and trying to focus on losing weight. I’m intending to get glasses sorted again and might learn to drive. I still have my OU prospectuses to look through and i’d still like to vlunteer for The Samaritans. I’m planning on doing the Aspire Swim Challenge again.

Biut i’m really, really not happy. I need things to change and I feel the root of that is money sadly. i have basically earned the same sort of money all my adult life and the cost of living is so exponentially higher. In that time all of my friends have passed be my and are much closer to the quality of life i want.

With more money I could go out more, worry less and generally reach for the next level of my life.

The webstore would provide the extra revenue stream the store needs to give me that chance.

I know if things don’t change soon, I’m running out of ways to ckeep myself upbeat and trying. I don’t want to give up, but I know I’m not far off.

2009 has been wretched and bless you all for your support, but I think you have all credited me with more strength than I have.

So I’ve just taken it out on my father. And now I feel even more wretched.

Yay.

Kotov Syndrome

Taken from Wikipedia:

“In chess, Kotov syndrome is a phenomenon first described in Alexander Kotov’s 1971 book Think Like a Grandmaster. It occurs when a player thinks very hard for a long time in a complicated position, but does not find a clear path. The player then notices he is running low on time, and so quickly makes a move, often a terrible one that was not analyzed at all, and so loses the game. Once so described, many players have agreed that the process is very common.”

Peace

I had to blog quickly.

Tonight, a minor thing shattered the upbeat happy face I’d put on things. Just for a bit.

A lot of good friends rallied round and put me back on my horse.

There’s something that’s been going on for a while which periodically brings me great sadness.

It is also a source of great joy so I can’t decide what to do about it all.

I’ve always said there are a few things that need to stay with me and this is one of them. I want to move forward one way or another, but right now the only definite way to do that is unacceptable.

Anyway, it’s been hard these past few days but other aspects of my life have kept it in check.

Until something trivial as I mentioned.

I’m good again now. I’m golden.

But I was listening to some fairly self indulgent music. Thn i found the new Biffy single and that helped. But it’s not gonna chill me out.

Then I found the video below for the last Mode single. Usually Depeche Mode - bless them - do fairly miserable stuff. This is so uncharacteristically upbeat. ‘ve had trouble connecting with this album. The special edition of it is the last gift Mum ever gave me.

But this song? Wow, it has a whole new meaning and impact tonight.

Good night folks.

July...

18th - would have been Mum’s birthday
31st - will be my first birthday without her

Brace yourselves.

I am happy to report that I remain mostly in high spirits despite a few matters that are getting to me. Mainly due to lack of consideration and respect.

But fuck it! I’m going to watch jousting on Sunday and one of my oldest friends welcomed his beautiful baby girl Rachel into the world the other weekend. It’s an odd feeling to see life and death within the same financial quarter, in the same hospital, only a few floors apart. Human existence is a truly amazing thing.

Two days of June left, then July. Normally my favourite month of the year.

Deep breath, here goes…

Nodnol

18 days and no blog, best remedy that.

Things are pretty good. Spent half of this week in London visiting Kate. Was great to get away - first time since I opened the shop. When I left Swin City at the end of 2007 I told myself I’d be facing at least 18 months without a holiday. Well, June 2009 is pretty much spot on!

Did some touristy things and was lucky enough to be able to use Katie’s Merlin pass to visit the London Eye (cool, but actually quite dull), Madame Tussauds (overrated really) and London Dungeon. More on the later in a moment.

I got in Sunday night and we went to Camden to get shitfaced - after Kate and her wonderful housemate Justine made cottage pie.

Sidebar - was really worried I wouldn’t get on with Jizzle as she and K-Dubz are such good mates and it would suck if I didn’t like her, but that girl is great people. So damn positive, but very hard on herself. She deserves every success in this world.

Camden on a Sunday is not the party I’d expected. London clearly parties hard on Thursday-Saturday, but Sunday-Wednesday is like any other town or city in terms of night life I found. Ah well.

We did manage to get pretty damn wasted. I agreed to take on Kate’s hangover like some kind of sympathetic magic craziness. Oddly though, twenty minutes later I had gone from being the more sober one, to being absolutely wardrobed (joke copyright Michael McIntyre) and Kate had sobered up.

The next day Kate had to work, so Justine and I went round the Dungeon. I stupidly fueled my body with a Chai Tea Latte and a cheese pastry. Half way round the Dungeon I became really dizzy and felt really dehydrated. To stop myself fainting, my body flushed with sweat which was really unpleasant.

So despite feeling stupid and self concious, I enjoyed the Dungeon very much. Kate’s shows were excellent and the whole experience is well put together. Worth a look folks.

Jizzle and I went off to look around Forbidden Planet and explore Tottenham Court Road in search of books, musical instruments and sushi. Lunch gave the two of us to have a long chat about life, love and London.

I then met up with Laura B and had drinks on the Thames and then a tired and slightly hanging Katie joined us for dinner at a bistro in Covent Garden. Yum, yum, yum. Had a good evening and then we went back to the girls’ place and passed out.

Tuesday was the Eye and Camden Market and drinks around Tottenham Court Road. All good. I also took a pointless solo trip to Finsbury Park. Not doing that again.

Wednesday was manic and I had a disconcerting experience on the way home. One for another blog I think. Nothing bad, just hard considering the last few months.

Massive thanks to K-Dubz and Jizzle for making me feel very wlecome. I will be back soon!

Back to work Thursday and the shop was perfect. My little baby had been perfectly looked after by the wonderful Tony and Jo. Thank you both - without you, the last few days would have been impossible.

I’m also very proud that my shop can survive without me. I feel like a parent who’s little kid went off to playshool for the morning. I must be doing something right if my ways and systems can do the necessary without be there. :)

Anyway, that was Londinium. Good times. I was shattered when I got back though - great city, but I couldn’t live there! Now I need a restful holiday…

More soon.

Update and walnut cake

It’s been a while. Things are ticking on. I failed to get any professional help, as my work hours make it difficult for me to see a counsellor. Apparently if you’re struggling with life’s load you should really struggle during office hours.

The NHS failed Mum, they seem to have failed me. But unlike Mum, I’m still young enough and lucky enough to have a bloody great network of friends.

I’ve put osme of you through hell and you’re still with me. Thank you. More than words can say.

I hope to never have to repay your kindness - because I wish the events of my 2009 to date upon no one. But I won’t hesitate to down tools and be there for you if you need me.

Anyway, enough emotional blathering. I feel much better, exercise has helped too. I am trying to get back on course with my swimming too.

I have in the past week had some great nights out, planned some time to escape and relax for a bit later this month and had my eyes tested, Step one to seeing whether I should get glasses or can consider laser eye surgery. Which in turn may en able me to learn to drive. Which in turn will give me more freedom and make me more self reliant.

I have ordered some Open University prospectuses to review too. i’m hoping my HND in Media Production will count towards credits for a degree, so we’ll see where we go from here. I’m going to review the possiblities and then call an advisor to see what can be done. I’m tempted to continue a study in communication studies as I remain interested in media production and have a renewed interest in intrapersonal communication and non-verbal signals (thans to Lie To Me). Social Sciences might be the key, though a business qualification may be the way forward instead. We’ll see. I’ll keep you posted.

Thanks to Andy, Matt, Mel and Sara for their input and guidance on this front.

I’m also considering volunteering to be a Samaritans listener when I feel more together. This may be something I continue to pursue after the summer. I think I need to continue to sort myself out before I try to help anyone else and a good summer would be key to that.

Shame the sun’s vanished again, it was lovely here for a week or so. Fingers crossed it returns. I seem to be the only person I know who hasn’t had a barbecue yet. It’s driving me mad! And I’d really like to sit around my firepit drink with friends. Come back good weather, please?

What else? I’m doing two very unlike me things this month. One is on Thursday so wish me luck. Sorry to be vague, but whilst I am a very open person, some things will remains my business. For now. :)

But do wish me luck!

Off to see Drag Me To Hell tomorrow. Might try and catch Terminator afterwards if there’s time. And I’m finishing the Star Trek trilogy tonight with The Voyage Home, so it’s time for mindmelding with whales, nervepinching ignorant wankers on the bus and the lines “Everybody remember where we parked!” and “No, I’m from Iowa. I only work in outer space.” Good times.

Plans with upstairs in the shop continue apace. Most of the outstanding problems now are lying with outside contractors - namely the lighting dude. Blah. Will bug him after I finish this. Plus there’s painting and varnishing to do and my hoovers seem to have packed up. Sigh. But it is nice to see most of the things on my to do list are crossed off. Always feels like you’ve achieved something.

Back to Swindon this weekend. Will try to catch up with some of you, but I think I need to spend some long overdue time with my Dad.

If you have been, thanks for reading.

In a change from our regularly scheduled broadcast...

Something more positive.

I got to swim for the first time since Mum died. The endorphins, combined with the glorious weather, have given me a bit of lift.

Last week was dreadful and I was a nightmare to be around. I faced up to a problem I was having but hurt people in the process.

But hopefully that is past. I’ve got lots going on this month and I’m hoping it will really turn things around for me.

I’m really enjoying the Mammal album as well. Caught them on Scuzz round at Tony and Adie’s with their single, The Majority, from the album of the same name.

It reminds me of Faith No More and something else I can’t put my finger on. If I was still DJing I’d certainly be playing this every week to try and break it. I had to slyly download the CD as the band haven’t officially released it in the UK yet. But they are touring here (well two dates) later in this year, so it may follow then and I’ll certainly snap one up when it is available.

I’m loving what I’ve heard of Little Boots so far, may get her album. It’s also made me want to buy a Tenori-On but at over 900 quid I think I’ll have to pass!

I’m also gonna pick up the following CDs when they come out:

15th June => Enter Shikari - ‘Common Dreads’
13th July => BillY Talent - ‘III’
27th July => Frankmusik - ‘Complete Me’

Was gonna pick up the Incubus greatest hits, but the track listing is fairly uninspired and misses out a lot of the early singles I liked, so I may make my own compilation from iTunes instead.

Still haven’t seen Drag Me To Hell and Terminator is out tomorrow. Blah. Will get to it in due course I guess.

Have finally found a use for the rubbish Bay-formers too. The Not-Optimus standee I ordered makes a great sun shield in the window. :)

One day, will it all make sense?

Are you sure you want to delete it?

Right, before this becomes another whiny blog - some good stuffs.

This weekend was bloody hard, but I arranged some fun for the Monday and it paid dividends. I had an awesome lunch (20oz steak and my only ‘meal’ of the day - yum) with Husky and Lou; a lovely afternoon catching up with the other Lou in my life and snagging a huggle or two off Kimbo; and a fantastic night out with Kate, which took in Lava Lounge (dead...) and Revolution (quiet, but very entertaining...)

Was also great to see Tonia, Daz, Arry, Lauren, Bish, Jo, Povey, Chloe, Kent and the other doorman plus assorted old face on Saturday night.

I also had a good chat with Charlie today - thanks matey. :)

Now the shite. Still no counselling and I’m finding it harder to open up. There’s a lot of secrecy in the social group I know and I’m finding it hard to be open with people who won’t share anything of themselves with me.

To top it all off I’ve managed to upset and hurt two people I care about very much,

I need someone who I can talk to without hurting them. People claim they understand and make allowances for me right now but I am raging with pain and hurt and that is hard to take.

I really need some release. I know what I need, but I’ve never been someone who can just get… that.

Seriously, is there a big reset button? I keep wondering if there’s a way to induce retrograde amnesia to myself. Ignorance is bliss, though are memory and personality linked? I’m assuming I’d have a chance to form a fresh and bolder personality if freed from my memories. It’s this concept that Dollshouse has explored i part. I hope it does more in the second season.

I want to see Drag Me To Hell, plus I have various films to watch so if anyone wants to be sociable drop me a line.

But be warned, I’m not reliable company right now.

A long day...

I am very tired, but feel the need to write some of this down.

Left Swindon a little after 10am today with my Dad to drive down to West Wittering on the south coast.

Most of the journey was smooth but it being a Bank Holiday weekend, everyone was heading for the beach so the final leg of the journey took almost as long as the rest of the journey down.

This made us over an hour late in meeting my aunt Carol.

Mum was one of four children, all girls. Mum was the youngest. Various family fueds have divided the sisters. in the recent years, Mum spoke to both Carol and Jackie, but not the eldest sister Judy.

Jackie still spoke to Judy. Carol spoke only to Mum and would have been angry if she knew Mum had stayed in touch with Jackie.

Family eh?

Carol was always someone who Mum represented as very critical of my life and I have been wary of her since my teen years.

Now, all three sisters came to Mum’s service and Carol was very much isolated and clearly finding it harder than the other two, for obvious reasons.

So many the times I’d been told how judgemental she was of me and my actions - much of which I can now see as the folly of youth. I carry them around as mistakes and feel the guilt of them, but I feel it was unfair of someone many years my senior to judge me so harshly when I was indeed only a kid.

Despite this, my heart went out to her. I have been feeling so very isolated and I felt empathy for a woman who had lost the only member of her family she was still close to other than her own - now grown up - kids.

Dad and I had decided we wanted to scatter Mum’s ashes at West Wttering, which Mum loved os dearly. In the past decade she and Carol would take off for an almost annual holiday/pilgrimage to West Wittering and their childhood hometown of Chichester. They would build sandcastles and sand sculptures and eat Mum’s beloved Mr Softee ice creams cones and generally have a good laugh.

And bitch about me. And Dad. And Carol’s partner Dominique (nice guy). Etc.

I thought Carol could show us a spot Mum had really loved and by inviting just her and not the other two sisters we would give her one final connection to Mum. A way of acknowledging their bond. Dad was worried about cuasing offence to Jackie and Judy but accepted that we didn’t have to tell them and that they were unlikely to ask.

So the beaches themselves were jampacked, especially with the glorious weather.

Instead Carol lead us round the bay to a more secluded part behind the sand dunes, where dinghys were moored at low tide and the landowners and even organised a small crab pool. It was pretty cool, I have to admit.

We found a secluded spot away from others and walked out into the bay on the low tidealong a ridge of shingle.

Dad did the honours, scattering Mum into the water in a brisk channel of water flowing back out to sea.

It is very strange, to see one of your parents reduced to a green plastic bottle of ashes, with a white lid and her name printed n a white label.

So Mum is off and away on the tides. She can circumnavigate the globe, visit her old home in Guyana, see the sights she always dreamed of, or just stay where her heart was. Her Mum and Dad were scattered in the same bay, though further round.

Still no emotional release.

There is a bench nearby that overlooks this small bay and it was one Mum used to sit on everytime she came down. The plaque on the bench dedicates it to a Commodore, so it should be easy to find.

That’s it for tonight. Just wanted to get that down.

If you have been, thanks for reading.

Back on the sauce...

Actually I’m not really. Had a couple last night, in a friendly and already very chilled environment. At home. Although it did signal the end of my evening as I started to wind down and withdraw, so my current assumptions on booze and me stands.

I’m back to Swindon tonight. Taking the double bed and getting set to stop a few days with Dad.

I’m out tonight for a sociable curry and catch up. All good. Not going to drink much, but may have one or two. Shall see how it feels and try to use my best judgement.

Then Sunday is the day. So we shall see what that stirs up.

I started this thinking I had something to say, but I don’t really. Things are OK. Nothing has improved, but I have had some pleasant evenings and it has halted the slide into misery. So thank you.

If wishes were horses is a thought that comes to mind with regards the future. Who knows.

Have just picked up the US Blu-Ray Star Trek Trilogy - Star Trek II, III, IV. A nice way of packaging three of the better films without the rubbish of some of the others - I’m looking at you, Shatner-directed V! Ugh. So that’s a nice marathon of geeky filmage for me sometime soon.

Still want a puppy and a kitten and am cursing living in rental property. Still miss having company first thing in the morning and last thing at night. But am trying to stay proactive and face forward.

Even if it is front towards enemy somedays.

I played the demo for InFamous last night. Not bad, but basically the sandbox Spidey games of recent years with electro powers. So, meh. Like it, but not enough to pay full price.

I’m quite pleased with The Surrogates trailer - looks good so far, despite the director’s baggage so fingers crossed there.

My pride-swallowing is netting mixed results. Still not really sure what to make of it, but worth a go.

Want to finally get swimming again next week. My eyes have gone down enough for me to have my passport photos done, so I can probably face hitting the pool without feeling people are looking at me for my black eyes. Just have to shrug of my usual feeling that people are judging me for being overweight. But that goes after a few minutes of being there, so I know I can do that.

Huh, I’ve just remembered why I wanted to write something. I had a conversation with a shadow from my Mum’s past yesterday. A man who had always been presented to me as my Mum’s ex-boyfriend. A man who’s presence in our lives as always been somethng that Dad has had to avoid, manage and suffer.

Well now it’s been suggested that Mum made it all up. That they never had a relationship in the past. That their friendship was just that, except in Mum’s head. That Mum who prized honesty above all else had lied several times in their association and that she had made it all up.

Why tell me? Why blacken my Mum’s name? It appears to me that this man is annoyed that he wasn’t invited ot the memorial service and won’t be joining us for the scattering of the ashes.

Which undermines what he says about not being that close to Mum. Why want to downplay any threat he may have been to my Dad in an attempt to get ‘in on the action’ of our grieving my Mum if you weren’t something important?

Lying. Destructive. And it will come out. Live your life as honestly as possible. And if you are caught out in a lie, come clean as easi;y as possible. Don’t compoiund it with more lies.

I’m a hypocrite there. Lies are essential in life, to minimise pain and avoid offence when the full facts can’t be disclosed.

But if you can avoid creating a cat’s cradle of untruth in your life you will be much happier. Because this shit always comes out.

And if it comes out when you’re gone, you can’t do anything to fi it or atone for it.

I’m managing a lot of anger right now and yesterday’s conversation didn’t help. He has the shop number. He rang me at work. Let that sink in. He rang me at work.

And then told me my Mum was a delussional liar. Ha. A woman who punished me as a kid for white lies. Taught me that omission of truth and obfuscation of fact is as bad as a lie. One of my biggest pet-hates is double standards. The dichotomy of which is that I know I have double standards of my own! Aaaaargh!

The worst thing is, he may be right. I still love my Mum very much. I accepted long ago she was falible. We all are.

But I’m afraid in lieu of a counsellor I’m going to have to offload these weird moments here.

What really angers me is the way people use other people to make loved ones jealous. It’s passive-aggressive control and I hate it.

If you have been, thanks for reading

Back on the horse

I haven’t given up writing but last weekend was really hard.

For a number of reasons, I crashed really badly. A good friend of mine used to listen to Nine Inch Nail’s The Downward Spiral when he was feeling really down. By the end of the album he’d be so miserable, he’d have hit rock bottom and the only way is up.

Doesn’t work for me. Listening to that CD anyway. So instead, I pissed and complained and moaned to a select few friends. I raged that when I needed people on Friday I ended up down the pub with two friends - a couple - feeling even more alone.

No one teaches you how to grieve. No one teaches you how to handle being unhappy. And we all are at some point or another. Some people are more with more balanced chemicals in their brain, so it desn’t last long. Others inherantly know how to force themselves to keep swimming (just keep swimming) till all is good again.

It must be hard to stand by me through all of this. I feel guilty when I feel fine - and I feel fine sme of the time. When I’m angry, I’m furious and lash out verbally at friends. When I’m unhappy, i’m miserable. Truly dark. Anything you say to try to cheer me up will be shot down in flames.

So I would like to take a minute to thank my friends. For the suprise visits. For the planned visits. For the nights in with a DVD and pizza. For allowing me to turn up on your doorstep in the evening with a Starbucks because things are shit. For the hugs. The text messages. The advice. The spontaneous visits to drop in and say hey when the bus has dumped you the wrong side of town and you’re running late. The small gifts. The messages and comments on Facebook. It all helps and it is all taken in eventually, even if at the time I may be too black of mood to see it.

Thank you.

This week I went to see my GP. MY new GP. He was running late - about 40 minutes behind and as soon as I opened my muth to talk about why I was there, he turned his body language away from me. He didn’t give a fuck. He told me to call Cruise - whose number I already have, but I find that realy impersonal, top cold call a support group.

I went to see a real human being in a professional capacity to ask to be referred to another human being, one who specialised in counselling people like me.

Mum’s death has hit me hard and I’m finding no way to express that isn’t destructive or whiny. I am putting too much pressure on my friends to save me. But I was unhappy, lonely and really low before that. A friend blogged that he missed New Year’s Eve, when everything was fine. We were all content. I’m afraid I read that and disagreed. Everyone else in that room seemed happy. I was really sad and lonely, not helped by feeling really ill. I remember thinking good riddance to 2008, will 2009 be any better though?

Nope.

I had hoped the need for some sort of therapy in my life was past me, but apparently not. Sadly this GP just saw me as a way to catch up with his schedule and rushed me out making me feel like I’d wasted his time. If I wasi n a more stable place I’d complain.

I need to watch Sicko again. Between this idiot and the way Mum was treated by her GP, mental health and that fucking nurse that turned her, I have lost all faith in the NHS. I need to be reminded that the alternative is no better…

I’m still trying to do positive things. I have some interesting news about the shop that I’m very pleased about. More on that another time. I’m making plans for the future. I’m about to send off my passport application too. And I’ve taken some other steps that I’l keep to myself, but it has taken some swallowing of my pride and climbing down off my soapbox.

So I haven’t given up. Yet.

If you have been, thanks for reading.

Giving up

I wrote a blog about how low I was last night, then deleted it because it was self indulgent.

But here I am at 10:30am, still feeling wretched and hopeless.

And so alone.

I’ve read that a lack of self worth can be part of grieving. Great. For a man already riddled with self loathing, this is cold comfort.

When the bough breaks...

Today has been hard.

But in a good way.

A few days ago, I was recommended to listen to the Radio 4 Afternoon Play from last Friday, Do’s and Don’ts for the Mentally Interesting, based on Seaneen Molloy’s blog The Secret Life of a Manic Depressive, her account of learning to live and love with bipolar disorder.

Yo can find it here - http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b00k4kkl/b00k4kj9/Afternoon_Play_Dos_and_Donts_for_the_Mentally_Interesting/ - until 3:02pm, Friday 15th May 2009.

I’ll be honest at first I put it off.

Then I was just too busy.

Until today. The comic delivery arrived and I like to have something to take my mind off the more montonous parts of Thursday’s tasks. So I put it on.

And it opened the flood gates. I cried. Not big, sobbing buckets - I still fear they are to come. Well, not fear - welcome. I need to, but have felt numb or unable to thus far.

I merely welled up, but it happened several times whilst listening to the radio drama. Seaneen’s horrors were exacerbated when her father died. At one point she cut herself in an attempt to release the pressure building up inside her.

It sounded very much like my feelings when I made the decision to get into a fight that lead to me getting my face haphazardly rearranged.

Her words helped. Her honesty helped. And I finally felt a bit of release.

It then happened again whilst watching the latest episode of Bones. And again whilst showing a key moment from the episode before to a friend.

It remains hard to feel able to let it out in the shop. People have walked in at points when I have tear stained eyes which I’m finding really embarrassing. But I don’t want to stand on the hose any longer.

This doesn’t come in isolation. I had a revelation on a different matter last night - something that I realised has been a barrier to me dealing with Mum’s death.

I was already emotionally broken when Mum died, but I can see I’m moving on now. It’s something I don’t want to talk about, I’m open about my life for the most part but some things aren’t for public consumption.

Now I may be able to deal with the loss of my Mum.

Next Monday I’m seeing my new GP to ask to be referred for grief counselling.

We scatter her ashes next Sunday. I have made sure I have someone who can catch me the day after.

And I’ve put various fun and exciting things in motion for the rest of 2009.

I found a card from Mum and Dad in my filing cabinet at the shop just before I started writing this. It commemorated the day the shop became one year old. Mum had written it, in the larger writing that characterised her last few years as her sight continued to fail. It was still recognisably her handwriting.

This is probably the last card I ever got from my Mum. It’s full of love and pride.

I miss her very much.

Thank you to everyone who has/is and will continue to help me.

That final month

Apologies to those who find these blogs hard going or inappropriate, but I need to keep on.

Mum’s death came after an awful month and in some ways it was a relief that she was free.

In the ice and snow at the start of the year, Mum had a fall and hurt herself badly. The hospital missed it at the time, but she had fractured her hip. She got frustrated by her slow recovery and lack of mobility and eventually checked herself out.

A fiercely independent woman, my Mum suffered threefold. Her remaining eyesight was failing and had been for some time, having already lost the sight in one eye before I was born. Always an artistic woman and a keen reader, Mum found it harder and harder to do the things she loved.

She had enjoyed long walks and hiking too, but over the past few years she had found it much more difficult to get around. She was only 63, but years of wrestling with an eating disorder had caught up with her.

Mum had suffered from bulimia in the Seventies, at a time when ignorance of mental health made people think such things were a weakness or a madness. Whatever you think of Princess Diana, she raised awareness of eating disorders and Mum always valued that.

You never recover from an eating disorder. Like any addiction, you learn to manage it. Mum strictly controlled her eating, never eating more than she was comfortable with. All to avoid feeling the need to throw it all up again.

She ate apart from me and Dad. Food was always an issue between the two of us. I have always wrestled with my weight. I was born with jaundice and had to have a low-fat diet. Mum kept me eating this way for years. When other kids had crisps and chocolate biscuits, I had cottage cheese and carrot sticks. Anything that makes you different at school, makes you a target and I resented her for it. So my youthful rebellion was binge eating, which lead to weight gain and so on. Mum hated having a fat son, it created a lot of tension.

But I digress. When Mum fell, the hospital tests revealed she was as malnourished as someone living in a Third World country. We knew she was underweight, but we had no idea she had all but stopped altogether. Eating apart from us as she always did, it became easy to hide it. And I had lived away from home for many years.

Mum initially resisted the doctors’ findings, claiming she was being victimised for being thin. Not helped by the fact that one of the GPs involved was quite overweight herself.

Then finally, Mum admitted she had a problem and asked for help. She rang me and pledged to get it together. She wanted to be admitted to a respite home of sorts, where trained staff would help her by teaching it was OK to eat and monitoring her meals and food intake. Such a place exists in Bristol, but they deemed she was too thin to be covered by their insurance. Something I’m still angry about.

Instead she was given two choices. Return to hospital to be monitored and fed but not closely supervised. She could have discharged herself again at anytime.

Or be sectioned and fed through a tube down her nose.

This terrified Mum. She talked about going away and hiding somewhere in the country. On April 8th 2009, some mental health workers tried to gain entry whilst Dad was at work. Mum freaked out and I happened to call in the middle of all this. I rang off and got Dad to leave work early and head home. They didn’t come back and Mum seemed to calm down.

Then on Good Friday after I’d closed the shop, I got a phone call. Dad told me Mum had taken an overdose and would like to speak to me. She came on the phone, sluggish and incoherant, and lied to me saying that Dad was making it up and asking how the shop had done that day.

It was one of our last conversations and she lied to me. After almost three decades of telling me she prized honesty above all else and making my life hell if I was caught out in even a white lie, I found this very hard.

Paramedics arrived and she refused their assistance so they left. When she finally lost consciousness, they returned and took her to hospital. She and taken 60 paracetomol, 30 cocodamol and washed it down with wine. This was the third time in my life Mum had tried to commit suicide with an overdose.

I was furious and didn’t want to go to see her. But then Dad rang to say she was getting worse.

I went down one Friday afternoon, having closed the shop early. She didn’t look anything like my Mum, and refused to acknowledge me. She kept begging the nursing staff to let her die.

I talked to her telling her about fun things of recent weeks - The Inspector Calls at the theatre, the preparation for FCBD, conversations with old friends - and then told her I forgave her, I understood and that she shouldn’t hold on.

I tried to prepare myself that Mum wouldn’t and indeed shouldn’t pull through. Her quality of life had become awful and this latest suicide attempt would make it so much worse.

Then the bastards at mental health came and assessed her, decided she need to be sectioned and put a tube down her nose to feed her.

What Mum was most afraid of came to pass.

I was furious. She wanted to die. She had got Dad to ring me and hold the phone to her ear while she begged me to let her die, to stop them keeping her. That was appaulling.

Years ago, she made me promise that if something horrible happened to her I would stop my Dad from letting them keeping her. She wanted DNR, whereas Dad is more a ‘life by any means’ guy. It felt like she was asking me to honour my promise and there was no way I could. Trust me, I looked into it.

But as the feeding tube went in and as the days went by she seemed to be improving. I tired to accept that she wasn’t getting what she wanted but that she may have some quality of life if we all pulled together.

Then on Saturday 25th April, Mum was in pain. She had had all her painkillers for the day, I was no longer allowed morphine. So the attending nurse suggested turning her as that sometimes helped.

She made Dad and my uncle Chris leave the room. Mum asked Dad to stay but the nurse insisted.

Waiting in the corridor, they heard a horrific scream and then the nurse came out. She said Mum was comfortable now.

Dad went back in and went to sit by her side. Her eyes were open but Mum was dead.

Today we had the preliminary coroner’s report.

It’s all being blamed on Mum for being frail. Her heart was enlarged ad could have gone at any time. The nurse in question has been cleared of all wrong doing.

And I just don’t know how I can accept that.

So...

Are you sure you want to delete it?

I’ve been struggling at the moment.

On April 25th 2009, at around 8pm, my Mum died.

It wasn’t unexpected in many ways, but it was sudden and shocking. I won’t go into details now, but things ended for her in agony. Which is heartbreaking.

I have all sorts of emotions rolling around, but I felt numb. This has begun to get scary. There were no real tears at the service. None the night she died. And with my past, this was very troubling. It was like i was stood on the hosepipe.

So Friday night, I went out with some friends to Judder at the 2 Pigs. Went out looking to have some fun, maybe make a connection, who knows.

Instead I ended up walking home alone feeling hideous and disconnected from the world.

Then a bloke mouthed off in the kebab house. Usually I’d let it lie. But this time I reacted. I won’t go into details but whilst I didn’t pick a fight, I certainly didn’t walk away and things escalated because of my actions.

Well, I was shitfaced and got my head kicked in. He got lucky and shat himself when I got back up from his beating. I intended to kill him. Thankfully he ran away, calling a mate for back up as he went. I was dumb enough to go looking for him but he’d gone.

My face is a mess, there was a lot of blood and pain.

But I could feel it.

Suddenly Fight Club made a lot of sense.

Now, before you judge me - someone has beaten you to it. I have made a loved one a promise not to do this again, and I mean it.

And another dear friend pointed out I’m not numb any more.

I intend to seek professional grief counselling. But I’m also going to try to blog about some of what has happened. What is happening. And how I feel.

Bottling my emotions up never works. That’s one thing I know.

Mum’s death has left me feeling the keen sense of loneliness I have had for sometime in 5.1 surround sound at full volume. It’s possible I wasn’t numb but so scared of being completely alone it drowned out everything else.

The hardest times are last thing at night and first thing in the morning. It may sound pathetic, but I wish there was someone to hold me in the dark. And to greet me as the painful memories of who I am and what is going on return with the morning.

There so much more to talk about, but I’m tired.

If you have been, thanks for reading.

Testing, testing. One, two, three.

There’s a lot going on right now. I’ve been botting it up, which isn’t me, but I’ve been scared of seeming crass during a massive trauma.

A dear friend has suggested I try writing it down. I was unfairly resistant, as she’s right.

We’ll see…

Pink Floyd - 'Wish You Were Here'

So
So you think you can tell Heaven from Hell?
Blue skies from pain?
Can you tell a green field
From a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?

Did they get you to trade
Your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
Did you exchange
A walk on part in the war
For a lead role in a cage?

How I wish
How I wish you were here
We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl
Year after year
Running over the same old ground
What have we found?
The same old fears
Wish you were here

Why Bill Hicks was a legend in one quote...

“Today a young man on acid realized that all matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration, that we are all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively, there is no such thing as death, life is only a dream, and we are the imagination of ourselves. Here’s Tom with the weather.”

Life...

…is better than it has been in a while.

Diet is back on track. Swimming has resumed. Watchmen is out Thursday. Shop is nearing a year of trading (which will enable me to use like for like figures to gauge whether I’m actually improving...) and I’m getting my head straight.

I’ve actually felt like I make a difference recently which ahs given me s sense of fufilment that has filled some of the void.

It’s not all shiny. Mum’s in hospital again. She cracked her pelvis when she went over in the ice in February and they’ve only just diagnosed it properly. So that’s a whole thing. I’ve had to accept there’s nothing I can do except visit when the shop permits.

The biggest thing is I lost myself in a daydream of happiness the other day. Biggest suprise was it was basically my life now with a couple of differences. Big differences admittedly, but it could be acheived.

We shall see. Come what may.

Sissy fuss

I wrote a long blog abut my current emotional state.

It was almost eloquent and would have allowed people some insight and might have led to some advice.

It was more honest and concise than I can be in conversation.

Then I navigated away by mistake and lost it all.

Now I’m even more depressed.

Seriously, what’s the fucking point? I covet the life of all of you. I loathe mine and it’s making me bitter.

If something doesn’t change soon it may be time to just walk away. Walkabout. I won’t come back as Kate though.

Sisyphus was doomed to push a boulder up hill all day and then start anew having made no progress. This was mainly because he was a deceiftul shit. It was a fitting punishment.

I’m not perfect, but surely I’m not that bad. Maybe I once was, but that was fifteen years ago.

How long does atonement take?

I have no self worth without the love of another but no one will love a man who hates himself.

Ouroboros.

Is this a fitting punishment?

Blogged down

Blah, I have nothing really much to say but all is going well and I only seem to blog when pissed off, so here goes - positive blog!

Erm, Christmas was nice but over too soon. Christmas Doctor Who was mad and great for it. New Year’s I had a horrible cough and manflu (proper aches though, so I maintain it was real flu but public (read female) pressure insists I say manfllu).

I’m calorie counting now which is going well - after a brief false start whilst still being ill. 2000 a day to start with, which I will drop as my weight loss plateaus and then reincrease when I hit target weight.

I must stress this is not a diet, but a new way to live my life. I allow myself Saturday/Sunday (one or the other depending on my schedule) to allow me to still have some fun and worry less on those days.

Two weeks in, and it;’s going OK so far. I’ve recommenced the swimming now as well after illness laid me up, so fingers crossed for some good results this year.

And later this year Husky and Lou are getting married (congrats to them!!!), so I’m hoping I’ll have lost enough weight to fit back into my suit!

Hmmm, what else? Loads to look forward to on telly. The return of Skins will trigger my now annual miss-my-youth phase, wishing it was more misbegotten. The return of BSG too - excellent, can’t wait (coming down now). And the start of Dark Avengers too! I enjoyed Secret Invasion, but I think Dark Reign will be Marvel’s absolute triumph.

Plus we have DC’s Blackest Night event coming on. Final Crisis has been OK, and issue #6 was jawdropping but as a huge Green Lantern fan (second only to Iron Man really) I think Blackest Night will be amazing.

Free Comic Book Day is looming in the distance like an old firend and this year’s crop of comics includes an original Avengers story (from Bendis and Cheung featuring the New and Dark Avengers AND Thor verus Ymir the Frost Giant) plus a Blackest Night prelude/recap which should get people up to speed. Fab!

Boardgames wise, Richard’s new game Senji has been a big hit. I think I almost got the strategy in the second game after a disastrous first game but I was pipped at the post by Tony. Somewhat demoralising as it was his first game and he got the strategy straight away.

I also worry that a lot of the game actually depends on random luck more than strategy but is hiding that with enough complexity to trick us into believing it is skill. The random draw of starting samurai and how that affects how strongly you start is one worry. Then you card drawing and set collecting (surely one of the reasons why many have come to loathe Settlers and T2R?) and dice rolling. Hmmm…

Wow, I just lost all of you who haven’t played it haven’t I? Sorry.

Good news that Watchmen is settled and will come out as planned. I passed on Spirit merchandise but planned a big campaign of Watchmen gubbins so this was a financial worry for me as well as a personal worry as a fan. March 6th will be great.

So there you go, a pretty much positive blog.

2009 has been alright so far. :)