The Storm

I’m currently lying on my bed, by candlelight, listening to the storm. This is the most thunder and lightning I’ve experienced in years, I’m probably misremembering, but growing up it seemed like we had thunderstorms most summers. I do love a good thunderstorm.

Now, to make me feel more human again, all the weather has to do is actually rain and lower the temperature by about 15 degrees.

This heat is killing me, my body can’t handle it, it’s also almost destroyed my garden, the sun has been so intense it’s scorched my herbs and shriveled my strawberries.

Bojo The Clown

After Boris Johnson’s most recent announcement, it’s looking very likely that I’ll be going back to work at some point over the next few days.

Last week Britain surpassed 30,000 deaths, meaning we have the highest death rate in Europe. Given that at the beginning of all this the government suggested 20,000 deaths would be a good number, the fact that we’re already 50% higher and our prime minister is suggesting people should be “actively encouraged” to return to work, from tomorrow, is absolutely baffling.

What’s more baffling is that we’re going back to work, but outside of work we’re still supposed to isolate from friends, family and other people outside of our household. It’s a completely ridiculous, and quite frankly backwards, policy clearly designed to protect the financial interests of the wealthy rather than the health of general population. What would make more sense is to continue with restrictions on businesses whilst easing those on people visiting family members, and potentially friends, outside of the household. It is far easier for someone to ascertain whether or not a family member is experiencing covid-like symptoms, and if so continue to isolate from them, than it is someone they work with. My thoughts are that we’re now on course for another surge in cases, a second peak and potentially a much higher cost to the economy in the long run, however, given our governments track record with sharing accurate figures on Covid-19 cases, it may not be reported this way.

Whilst ultimately I am aware that protecting our economy is important, and I do want to return to work, I only want to return to work when it is genuinely safe to do so. For me being in lockdown has been great for both my mental and physical health and, thanks to being furloughed, hasn’t even been that hard on me financially. Not having to commute has greatly decreased my outgoings and having plenty of free time has allowed me to plan my meals, put together a thorough and thought out shopping list and left me with plenty of time, and energy, to push myself to exercise on a daily basis.

Knowing that this is all about to change, and it being before I feel it is safe for it to do so, my mood is at the lowest it’s been in weeks and I can only see it getting worse from here on out.

Lockdown Life

I’ve been in lockdown for a full 3 weeks now, my company went into shutdown later than most, and for the first few days of which I was working from home. I work for a manufacturing company producing for the construction industry and that has been allowed to keep operating throughout the crisis, though after the first few days of lockdown most companies went into shut down of their own accord. I’ll have been on furlough for 3 weeks as of Friday evening and that essentially means I’ll have had a full 3 weeks of not working, I didn’t want to risk losing the money I am getting by continuing to work from home despite being furloughed, though I’m sure some people will have.

It took a few days to get used to it, but now I’m really enjoying not being at work, though I do wish I’d had slightly more notice to get a few things in so I could do a few of the odd jobs I’ve been lazily (partially due to lack of free time) putting off. So far in the past few weeks I’ve helped repair some fencing that came down in the most recent storms, I’ve cleared out and turned a bit of garden into a veg patch and set some seeds into pots to grow a little before being put out (we still get occasional morning frosts at this time of year), I’ve cooked a few bits and bobs that I particularly enjoy, I’ve set myself an exercise regime and dietary controls with the aim of increasing my physical fitness, I've listened to a lot of podcasts (thank you CheapShow, www.thecheapshow.co.uk, for being thoroughly entertaining) and I’ve played a few video games that I’ve been meaning to play for a while (though I still haven’t started replaying the Witcher 3). It has now gotten to the stage where I’m genuinely dreading life going back to normal, me having to put back on my mask (metaphorically speaking... I’m an antisocial, neurotic git and it takes a lot of work and fakery for me to be around people), returning to work and having to deal with the general shit show that is humanity (I’d like to hope that all this will make people more thoughtful of others, but I’m almost 100% certain it wont and that people will return to their normal cuntish selves very quickly).

As I’ve not really done anything of note, and because I’m boring as all hell so I don’t have anything interesting to say, I’ve been very inactive on the social media/blogging front recently and the current crisis we are all suffering through hasn’t really helped. I thought I should at least add some sort of narcissistic update as to how I’m doing and what my daily life currently entails and here it is.

Thank you for reading.

Does This Mean I'm Actually Environmentally Friendly?

I ran out of loo roll days ago and, thanks to the fucking panic buying pricks, I've not been able to buy any since, however, I did manage to pick up a couple of large packs of old school cotton dish cloths and a big bottle of concentrated 'winter spice' disinfectant... Looking on the bright side, my bum smells of cinnamon and I've finally gone reusable.

I Want To Permanently Self Isolate

I want to self isolate, not because I'm ill or even that worried about getting ill (to be honest I'm much more bothered by the idea of passing the illness on to someone more vulnerable than myself than actually being ill), I just don't want to be around people anymore.

Is Anxiety Still Anxiety When It's Rational?

I live in a perpetual state of feeling like my entire world is about to fall apart, a constant awareness of disaster looming in the periphery of my perception… I’d love to say this malady is of my own making, that it’s all a figment of my overactive imagination, but I’m almost completely certain that I’m only very slightly exaggerating things to myself, that it is in fact simply reality.

Brexit Night

It's official, the race to the bottom has now begun, my worry is that we've all underestimated just how far there is for us to fall before we hit it.

This may be me being intentionally naive, but I genuinely hope I'm wrong, that we can turn a disaster in to a success story and that Bojo the clown isn't as dishonest, or as much as a buffoon, as he appears to be.

Getting Back To Normal… Ish

It's been nearly 3 weeks since I failed my driving test and had my first full on public panic attack in about a decade. I considered these to be 2 heavy knocks to my self confidence and they pushed me into something of a spiral. After a particularly rough week, the combination of anxiety, depression and insomnia (largely caused by the anxiety and depression) had left me emotionally, mentally and physically exhausted and I made the decision to do something about it. 

I used my remaining annual leave to break up early for the Christmas period, headed to the local chemist to get some over the counter sleeping tablets and ordered  some St. John's Wort herbal tea bags (St. John's Wort is supposed to be good for anxiety and insomnia, the tea tasted pretty rank and I'm not sure if it actually helped, but I thought it was worth a try.) from Amazon. Whilst the tea and tablets didn't really help me to sleep through the whole night, they did make it considerably easier to fall asleep in the first place and that was a step in the right direction. The combination of not being at work and sleeping a little better helped me to break the spiral and get into a better frame of mind. 

To cut a long story short, I was able to force myself to have another couple of driving lessons, rebook my practical and even manage to take advantage of a last minute cancellation to get the test in earlier than I otherwise would. Thankfully this time I passed, I don't even want to think about where I'd be mentally if I'd failed, and, although I don't have a car yet, that is one less thing for me to worry about. 

My anxiety is still pretty high, I'm still struggling to get a good night's sleep and I'm still not coping with being out in public in general, but the depression has more or less receded back to my normal manageable doldrum, I'm starting to feel more like, what I've come to accept as, myself again.

Missed Opportunity

We had the opportunity to say no to dishonesty, no to bigotry, no to massive corporations avoiding taxation, no to pandering to the whims of the richest 1%.

Instead of this we chose to say no to having more say in the Brexit process, no to protecting the NHS for future generations, no to helping the most vulnerable in our society, no to a fairer distribution of taxation.

To say that I'm massively disappointed in the outcome of the general election is an understatement, to say I understand why people choose to vote the way they did would be a lie. What I do understand is that the majority of people who voted Conservative, the rich, the misguided elderly, the middle class with poorly informed views on climbing the social ladder, the outright bigoted, are the people least, or think they are, likely to be affected by their policies and that all they've really done is shown the rest of us just how little understanding they have of the world at large and just how little empathy they possess.

For those of you who voted Conservative 'to get Brexit done' or just because you're sick of hearing about it, you seem to have forgotten the most important fact. They are the party that put us in this mess to begin with, the one that kicked off the whole process with little to no understanding of what that would entail, who, after months of nothing but bickering and infighting, invoked article 50 with no deal, or even a deal in principle, in place, who to this day have no viable option for our withdrawal on the table and seem to care very little about actually doing so. You have voted for a party that is literally incapable of getting Brexit done and will allow us to free fall out of Europe with nothing to stop us but our face and the jagged, broken, rocky ground that is reality. 

We are in for years, if not decades, of economic slowdown and potentially even recession. Don't worry though whilst the Conservatives are in power they won't let this hurt the wealthy, they'll keep tax on high earners low, they'll still use tax payers money to bail out failing big businesses and continue to give the most lucrative government contracts to their already massively wealthy friends. They do have plans to fund this... They'll cut funding to the social support structures that help the most vulnerable amongst us, they'll make it even harder for the disabled to claim benefits, they'll further cut funding to police forces, fire brigades and other emergency services, they'll cut funding to our schools and education systems, they'll cut funding to and further privatise the NHS.

This may all seem like liberal scare mongering, but you only have to look around to see that this is already happening, the truth is out there to see if you're willing to look for it. I'm not even that politically minded and I can see this, how are so many people living in willful ignorance?

Why Are The General Public Such Cunts?

I live in England, we had yet another general election yesterday and somehow, despite royally fucking us over almost every time they get in power, the Conservatives won (that said Labour aren't all that much better).

England is a country where you can literally get in trouble with the police for hurting someone's feelings, where freedom of speech is basically just a myth, where the masses get offended over the most minor of things most of the time, and are very vocal about it. Although some people do disagree, most appear to be ok with it and it all seems to be for the sake of political correctness and ensuring no-one feels discriminated against (although a lot of people still are).

The question I have is given their track record, and the fact that we are somewhat of a snowflake society, how in hell are the openly racist, sexist, elitist, bigoted buffoons we currently have in government still in power and still getting voted for?

Craving That Good Weekend Oblivion

It’s Saturday morning, I’m tired, I have literally no need, or desire, to be awake and all I really want is the silent oblivion of a deep and dreamless sleep.

At 6:30 am my brain is like “Wakey, wakey, rise and shine… here’s all the shit going on in your life that’s making you anxious… enjoy” and now my heart is absolutely thumping out of my chest and there’s no chance of me getting back to sleep.

Why Do I Only Remember The Bad Dreams?

To be honest I stopped remembering the majority of my dreams a long time ago, some nights I’m not even entirely sure if I dreamt at all, but tonight I definitely did.

A tallish, chubby, bearded man (not me, it doesn’t look like me and there’s no sense that he represents me in the dream) puts his kids to bed, he kisses both of them on the forehead, shuts their bedroom door and heads downstairs into the kitchen and makes two mugs of cocoa with marshmallows.

His partner/girlfriend/wife calls to him quietly from the darkened living room “the films starting hurry up”. He takes a partially melted mallow from a mug and eats it before heading into the darkened room.

The film ends and they’re both sat on a sofa under a blanket. She says “OK, I’m going to bed, you coming?” And he replies “Go get yourself cozy, I’ll be up in a minute, I just want to tidy this up first.” He gestures to a coffee table in front of the sofa.

She heads up to bed, the focus switches to her (she doesn’t look like anyone I know and there’s no sense of recognition), she lays down on the bed and instantly flashes into a flashing dreamscape of horror film scenarios. She wakes up in the corner of the room, clothes torn, covered in blood and something organic looking stabbed in to her thigh.

She screams, pulls the thing out of her thigh and covers the wound with her hand. There’s panic on her face as she looks around the room, it’s covered in blood, gore and what looks like chunks of torn up meat.

She leaves the room and slams the door behind her, the landing is empty and looks entirely undisturbed. She tells herself that she was still partially asleep, the bedroom was just part of her nightmare and it calms her down. She can hear loud TV static from downstairs and thinks it’s her partner, he’s put on another film and fallen asleep on the sofa, it was the noise from his film that caused the horrible dreams.

She goes downstairs into the kitchen, it’s dark, she can hear quiet sobbing and sniffling mixed in amongst the now extremely loud static.

She turns on the light, the room has been wrecked, the table is overturned, cupboards are hanging off walls, the contents strewn across the floor and again there’s blood, gore and unrecognisable chunks of meat all over.

She’s panicking again, she’s trying to tell herself she’s still dreaming, she’ll wake up soon and everything will be OK. The sobbing is louder now, it sounds more desperate and it sounds like a child. It’s coming from behind the table, she rushes over, shoves the table aside and she’s her son. His legs have been broken, almost crushed, he’s cradling the remains of his sister, her belly has been torn open and it’s contents are spilling all over the floor.

The son screams at the site of her and tries to back further away. He’s crying harder now, “Please, we’ll be good, please, it hurts, please, no more mommy”. She steps back, looks desperately around the room and the unrecognisable chunks of meat come into sharp focus, they used to be her husband. She looks down at her hands and remembers, in violent flashes, what she’s done.

I'm Still Just A Broken Child Under All This Hair

I know that I often come across as a little whiny and self indulgent, on here at least, but that’s because I tend to use my blog as my emotional dumping ground. If something that I consider bad happens to me I post about it, if I’m upset about something I post about it, if I’m feeling generally shitty I post about it.

I don’t talk about these sorts of things in real life because I either don’t have anyone to talk to them about or I don’t want to burden people with my problems or I feel like my issues are trivial and I’m making a big deal over nothing. Even so there’s actually still a lot of stuff that I don’t post about on here because I’m probably just being stupid and I shouldn’t be letting it bother me.

I know that not a lot of people read my posts, but those that do are often seeing a side of me that very few other people get to see. Almost everyone that knows me has seen the overgrown child, who’s well into adulthood, that still loves video games, action figures and comic books (though I hardly ever buy either of them and it’s even rarer that I read/play with them these days). You get to see the broken child who’s still scared of things he should have grown out of years ago, who’s still struggling with understanding his emotions and never quite learned how to interact with other people.

I don’t think that the people I do somehow manage to interact with in my day to day life would understand the broken child…

I’m tired…

To Put It Plainly, I'm A Failure

I had my first panic attack in over 10 years today, I’d forgotten what they felt like. I was in a supermarket, I wasn’t coping well, and I suddenly couldn’t catch my breath. My heart started to race, it was beating so hard, it felt like it was going to burst out of my chest. I genuinely thought I was having a heart attack and I didn’t know what to do. Thankfully my memory kicked in, I remembered what to do and I got myself under control.

My self confidence was hit really hard on Friday, there’s been a big chunk taken out of it and I didn’t really have a lot to begin with. I failed my driving practical test after nearly a year of lessons and it’s just knocked me for six.

It doesn’t sound like a big thing and probably isn’t to most people, but to me it really is. Passing my driving test should have been the culmination of many years of fighting my own stubbornness and anxiety. I was sure I was ready, I honestly thought I could do it, I’d spent weeks preparing myself and was at a point where everything felt right.

The depression has kicked back in, it’s the worst it’s been in about 15 years, my self loathing is currently through the roof and my anxiety has made a hell of a comeback.

Wishing I Was Living In A Dream

I often fantasise about winning the lottery, not like an insane amount, just enough to know that I, and anyone that I might decide to share my life with, will never have to work again and still afford a reasonable life style. To be honest sometimes having these day dreams to sink back into, like a comfort blanket, are one of the few things that keep me sane

The first thing I would do is leave my job, closely followed by selling, or giving away, anything that doesn’t have some kind of emotional meaning to me, or would be impossible to replace, and putting whatever remains into storage.

Once I’d done this I would buy a used, 4 wheel drive, estate car and spend the next few days/weeks turning it into a car camper. I’d have the rear windows blacked out, or replaced entirely by solid panels, remove the back seats, level out the floor so I can install a bed, utilising footwells etc. as storage compartments, and kit it out with basic camping, hiking and general survival equipment.

I’d use my new car camper to be a modern day wanderer, travelling around the country, visiting places of interest or natural beauty and using the equipment in my car, the car it self acting as a base camp, to explore locations I may otherwise never see.

Once I’d had my fill of exploring I’d like to settle down in a small house, preferably with no immediate neighbours, and live a fairly simple life of cooking, making preserves, growing veg, consuming copious amounts of media (books, games, films etc.), learning new things (like archery) and looking after a few animals.

A Little Self Indulgent Moan

I’ve been wanting to move away from the area I grew up in for quite a while now and it’s really starting to wear me down. I currently work full time, although the pay is very poor, the job itself is entirely reliable and for an unskilled worker, in the current economic climate, that is a fairly big draw. Unfortunately my low pay has left me in a pretty shitty situation where my monthly outgoings are basically equal to my income, meaning that I have no real savings to fall back on. Couple this with the fact that I also have financial responsibilities that require me to pay every month or risk forfeiting my claim to them, potentially losing a lot of money and any chance of ever putting together a deposit on a mortgage. What this means to me is that, in a very real sense, I live pay day to pay day and can’t afford to lose even a single months pay.

As it stands it appears as though I’ve been left with two viable options, continue in my current job and commute to work or find another reliable job in the area that I want to live in. Whilst both of these options look fairly simple on paper they’re not as easy as it seems.

Firstly the area that I want to live in is around 35 miles away from where I work and although this isn’t a vast distance I don’t currently drive, though I am working to change that. It’s taken a couple of years, but I’ve finally managed to adjust my budget enough to afford weekly driving lessons rather than waste my time and money buying them in blocks with, sometimes long periods of time between each block. Essentially this means that, for me currently, commuting isn’t really an option.

Secondly, since the Brexit referendum economic growth in Britain has plateaued somewhat, and in certain cases has even recessed slightly, meaning that less jobs are available, competition for jobs has increased and employers are looking to fill the available jobs more cheaply. As a fairly qualified and extremely experienced employee, whilst not being the most expensive, I would not be particularly cheap to employ. I would require to at least match my current wage, but would ideally be looking to achieve closer to the higher end of the average wage for a person of my level of experience. When combined with the fact that I currently don’t drive, I have a very distinctive style and appearance, and that I have a fairly lengthy notice period in my current job, makes me a somewhat less desirable candidate for most companies.

So where does this leave me? This is a question I find that I’m asking myself ever more frequently and unfortunately the answer doesn’t really change, I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. I don’t have the money, or support structure, to simply quit my current job and move. Annoyingly if this was an option it has the potential to make me more employable due to no longer having a notice period and being available for an immediate start. I’m basically left with having to rely on either there being someone out there willing to take a chance on employing me or on my own ability to learn and the hope that I pick up the necessary driving skills quickly. Unfortunately I’m not convinced that either of these options are particularly viable, but they’re all I seem to have.

I Hate Being So Tired That My Eyes Ache

I hate being simultaneously so tired that my eyes ache and entirely unable to sleep, yet that seems to be the defining feature of my life. It's just the worst when you fall asleep fairly easily at night only to wake up in the early hours and just lie there trying to drift back off. You end up slowly counting down until your alarm goes off, body aching, feeling drained and defeated and knowing that you have a full day ahead of you before you get to try again.

Just concentrating on a single task becomes a genuine challenge, work is a complete nightmare, dealing with other people is a losing battle and keeping the constant nagging of depression in check seems impossible.

It does get a little better when you finally get home, at least you know that the worst part of the day is over, you're surrounded by your stuff and you can finally ditch the uniform. You daren't stop and relax though, if you do that you'll doze off, if that happens you know that you won't get anything done and to make matters worse if that does happen you know that you won't sleep tonight and you'll repeat the whole process. When you do finally get in bed, you're whole body aches and you can't get comfortable, after a while you find your comfy spot, but now your mind won't switch off and you know it's going to be a long night.

It's 6:30 am, I have to get up for work, I've already been awake for over 3 hours, I gave up trying to sleep about an hour ago, I'm tired, I'm drained, my head aches, my eyes hurt (that horrible, gritty kind of hurt that you can't blink or wash away) and I've got at least 16 hours before I'll get to try again.

Not Entirely Happy

I'm not too proud to admit that I'm really struggling with just about everything at the moment. Getting up, facing the day and doing the bare minimum to continue with my life, such as it is, is currently genuinely challenging.

To The People Who...

To the people who say "money can't buy you happiness" I want to explain to me exactly how you know that it can't. It seems like it's always said by people who either have no money at all or people who have some money, but still need to work, in one way or another, to ensure they have some degree of income. I've never heard it said by anyone who is rich enough that they don't have to worry about money. My theory is that happiness can be bought, but it's expensive and only the people who are "money is no object" rich can afford to buy it. Essentially I'm saying that people who think that happiness can't be bought are too poor to afford it and are just trying to kid themselves into thinking that the super rich are miserable too. Of course, I'm far too poor to buy happiness, however, I am more than willing to test my theory, I just need lots of people to donate me large sums of money, on a monthly basis, for the rest of my life... Anyone willing to help me become "money is no object" rich?... Anyone?... No?... I thought not.

Feeling Awful, AKA Another Self Indulgent Post

I'm struggling to remember the last time that I didn't feel awful in one way or another. If I'm not physically feeling awful then I'm feeling awful emotionally, if I'm not emotionally feeling awful then I'm feeling awful mentally and if I'm not mentally feeling awful then I feel like I'm an awful person. More often than not it's some sort of continually shifting combination of all four, previously mentioned, types of feeling awful. That's not to say that I don't have moments of happiness, as with most people, being in certain places, doing certain things, being around certain people will all make me happy to some extent, however, behind every other feeling is that general background awfulness and, if I'm being honest with myself, I don't know if I'm ever going to be able to make that awfulness go away.