The isolated drive home

I had a busy day yesterday. Two parties, of sorts, to go to taking my out of my household for the whole day. I had a good time although stressful at parts. Explaining my renewed eating habits and my refusal of alcohol was challenging at times but I find if I am brutally honest with people they tend to leave me along quickly. It’s probably not the best way to handle the situation as it makes it very awkward but then they are the ones asking all the questions.

It was getting on for 2130 and I was pretty tired. I was aware that my wife would be disappointed I hadn’t come home earlier. So announcing my, not very early, departure from the evening I was met with waves of disappointed comments and looks from people. Being a non drinker I was driving so I was taking one other person home. They didn’t want to leave. There attitude wasn’t really helpful with repeated underhand comments and criticism of me.

After I dropped them off I realised how lonely I was. Not in the sense I was alone, I have friends and family, but from a support perspective. My wife suffers from mental health issues to which she is receiving help. It is a very hard process for her. But it’s a very hard process for me. Every day when I get home she will talk for hours about herself then retreat upstairs and spend very little time with me. My friends want to go out and do things all the time. Generally this will involve alcohol but also spending a lot of money. I cannot do this because it takes me away from my wife and also I don’t have a lot of money. I never seem to be able to do enough for everyone for them to appreciate my time.

So I found myself driving home feeling sad that I had let the party down and feeling sad because I let my wife down. It felt lonely. Who can I talk to about this? The only two people in my life I should be able to talk to about it are the ones that cause me the most stress! Sometimes, when I am driving in the car, I am filled with a very numb sensation. Sort of like going to sleep but I am still very conscious. It’s  at these times I just want to keep driving. Just get on the motorway and keep driving all night. Worse case I feel like driving headlong into a wall.

And even after saying all that I feel guilty for feeling like this. It feels selfish to think “well what about me?” Especially when my life is filled with so many things. It makes me feel like a spoilt child stomping my feet because I am not getting my own way all the time. And perhaps that’s it. Compared to so many others I live a charmed life. I have a job, a house, friends and family so why do I feel so alone at times?

Anyway the fact that this page is not scrolling down every time I drop down a line is stressing me the fuck out. That and the annoying bin lid that’s banging outside.

Be excellent to each other

I am an alcoholic

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I am a very honest person. They say the first part of accepting you have a problem is to admit it. I have admitted it to myself and publicly for over ten years and nothing has really changed.

When my business was collapsing around me, I was in vast amounts of ever increasing debt and I had 3 teeth infected I was drinking a huge amount. I would go out to my job in the morning, get myself about £100 to £350 cash then go to the pub for opening. There I would sit and drink about 4-5 pints of the strongest beer I could until my girlfriend returned from univesity. I would meet her and on our way back to the house I would buy 6 cans of strong Lager to drink in the evening.

The main thing I noticed is that people didn’t realise I was drunk. I could converse proficiently, I didn’t stagger around, I was not aggressive or emotional. I was a functional alcoholic.

As time went on I cut my drinking down. I didn’t drink every day but when possible would sink as much as I could.

More recently I would go out drinking with my friends. When they were at the point of vomiting and heading home I would go to the off license and buy another couple of bottles of beer, drink one quickly before I made it home and then drink the rest. Anything to to get as much into my system as possible. I could happily drink a whole bottle of wine a night or have six beers. I drank half a bottle of whisky whilst gaming the other night and barely felt it.

Which brings me onto this past weekend. I am 16 stone, my health is going, I am drinking to hide from things that need confronting. I have quit drinking. It’s actually not healthy to go cold turkey when you have had such a sustained heavy intake of alcohol but I don’t think I can do this any other way.

It’s only been 4 days I think. Temptation is always there. I haven’t told anyone I have quit because then it becomes a thing. This is a very personal move for me and I need to do it for myself.

To hide this change I have started going to the gym after work and cleaned up my eating. If I tell people I am trying to be healthy perhaps they won’t pay attention to the drinking? Here is hoping.

It also feeds into my hope to become a more interesting person and find happiness. I think finding happiness will be a long journey with many things to complete. Quiting drinking seems like as good a place as any to start

 

The pursuit of Interest

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A close friend was down in the dumps recently. He had been having relationship problems and was despairing a little. Now I am by no means a relationship expert as can be attested by my history but I like to try and make people feel good.

So the advice I had was that the relationship his youthful hormone, driven self, wanted so badly would not make him happy. What he needed to pursue was happiness in being by himself. By doing so he would become more confident and that confidence would help him when it came to inevitable relationships.

Thinking about it I think this is good advice for anyone. So, I intend to improve my life by dedicating some time to becoming more interesting. If you asked people around me they would probably say I am very interesting. But it’s a ruse. Yes I have stories from my youth but the main structure of how I am defined interesting is my ability to relay other peoples stories. Stories about my Fathers life, stories about my old boss, stories about my young apprentices and the mistakes and successes. But nothing really about me.

So I am dedicating my lunch hour every week to doing things. 2-3 days I will write my blog, inspired by the goings on around me and my lamenting at a cruel and cold world. Then on the other days I will draw, read and research things that interest me but I never find time for. I shall try and plan some trips in the UK, probably on my own because I find it will probably be more interesting to do so.

This leads into my pursuit of happiness. I will write another blog about that another time.

Hope you are having a great day!

I don’t want to come across bitter

But I am bitter. I don’t want to be. I want to be this cool guy, worldly wise and supportive but I am struggling.

I like the quote from Bilbo Baggins regarding butter spread across too much toast. You feel thin and sort of stretched out. My patience has to be carefully managed as it is a limited resource. Some people get a raw deal  because I have to save my patience for dealing with others.

When I was younger I had dreams and plans. I wanted to travel, settle down and have kids. I am 36 now and I have barely achieved any of them. I have travelled and it was great but it wasn’t the adventurous travel I had dreamed of. I have always wanted to walk barefoot in Africa! I don’t know why this dream exists, I never walk barefoot anywhere, but I have a desire to feel the red earth between my toes. I’ll probably hate it. Again I have settled down in a fashion and I am married with a house. But if anything it is unsettled and not going very well. I just finished a phone call with my wife, where I had my head in my hands trying to wrap my head around her. And children! How I wanted children. I always thought of it as an opportunity to teach someone to be better than myself. I learnt from my mistakes and they could learn from me. But my wife decided she didn’t want kids. I suppose I should have had some sort of say in that decision but then it’s her body. Having children would have more impact on her than me. So I rolled over and accepted it.

Which leaves me here. A suicidal 36 year old whose situation is infinitely better than more than half the world. Yet here I sit in a constant battle with whether living or not is better. It’s certainly not an all consuming thought but maybe 5 or 6 times a day I have the conversation.

But I wrote this blog for therapy so maybe I just need to let the bitterness flow out onto the pages. It’s hard. There are times when I feel rotten inside, filled with black tar and death. It’s funny how depression can rob the world of warmth, colour and even the brightest day of summer is left cold and drab. I have learnt to observe the ebbs and flows of my depression though. By doing so I guess I don’t fall as hard as I used to. I remember when I lived elsewhere I was crossing a road. On one side I was happy and laughing with my friends, but as I crossed something hit me. No hit is the wrong word. It is very difficult to describe. Everything changed as I crossed that road. It was like I was a different person inside. To my group of friends nothing changed, I was the same person, we were still going to the same place, but to me it was different, I was different.

Well I am out of time. I am not happy with this post but post it I shall. Nobody reads it anyway LOL! I just don’t like how I start with one thing and end on another with included rambling. I will hopefully post again next week. I might be a different person by then

Desire

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Desire. Its an evocative word. It conjures up images of staring deeply into someones eyes, a rush of emotions, a feeling of losing ones self in the moment.

Sadly this isn’t a sensation I have felt. Yes I have been in relationships and stared into the eyes of a loved one. But desire? No. If anything whenever I try and stare deeply into someones eyes I feel more awkward and uncomfortable. I want to lose myself but if anything I become more aware of myself. What am I doing with my face, have I got sleep in my eyes, are they looking at the imperfections of my skin, my bloodshot eyes, what should I be doing with my arms? The list is generated in an instance and within a moment I will break eye contact. That moment of almost desire is lost. I will then of course make a joke because I don’t know how to be desirable or, to be honest, conduct myself in any adult scenario.

I do long for this sort of connection but I am not really sure it exists. Just like love in the movies, is all the sexual tension and animal desire just a fantasy dreamt up by a writer?

I think the only form of desire I really feel is my unsatable desire for things.  I have described myself as a black whole, a gaping hole that cannot be filled. Alcohol, food, phones, computers…. the list goes on. Even thing’s I do not need. But I desire them deeply and sometimes at great cost. I will spend ungodly amounts of money on something I want, but do not need, use it for a week, then cast it aside. The initial rush of happiness and satisfaction dies down and I lose interest and move onto the next thing. If anyone could help me with this problem I would be most greatful. My default answer to most of lifes problems is to throw money at it. Alas that doesn’t seem to fix the problem of never having enough money.

The post has turned to mindless rambling now so I will end it here. Never stop never stopping!

via Daily Prompt: Desire

So Let’s start with yesterday

home_imageI like to live my life without regrets. I own my mistakes and when questioned in a bar I most definitely would say I have no regrets. But yesterday I was reminded of my past and I realise I have regrets.

In my early twenties I had a girlfriend. It was only a short relationship of a few months but we connected and had an amazing time together. Alas we were seperated by our situations. I was training in a trade in our little town and she was set for bigger things at University. We tried the long distance thing but, and I understand her feelings, she didn’t want me holding her experience back. She was young, first time away from home, and having that commitment would make life difficult.

She returned one weekend and we went out to the pub, she was cold and distant. I am a pretty relaxed person so I didn’t worry about it. She wanted to see her friends and I was happy to wait. But people noted something was wrong even if I didn’t. Walking her home she explained that she wanted to end the relationship. I was very business like “that’s OK. I understand. It’s inevitable really”

She cried. She wanted more from me but I didn’t really have anything to give. I didn’t feel like crying and didn’t see the point in fighting for her. I think the statement “if you love something set it free” best describes what happened. I still remember our parting hug. Cold, awkward, I could feel her bones within her body. As I wandered home to my flat I tried to feel the emotions of the situations. I didn’t feel anything.

She returned about half a year later and we met up for old times sake. She was still beautiful. By this time I had been trying to date at least two other woman and, although there was nothing official, I was close to beginning a new relationship with one of them. She wanted to get back together. It was a choice between something that was easy, and something that was hard. The easy option would be to fall back with her, have some great times, perhaps it would pan out, perhaps it would burn out in a few months. Or the hard option and press on with my efforts elsewhere. I chose the hard option. Perhaps I made a poor decision. Hindsight is 20-20

I do believe I loved her. I still dream about her from time to time. Nothing sexual although perhaps I feel that sort of thrill. Just hanging out and doing things.

So there I was, on lunch, cruising down the escalator in my local Mall, when I see a beautiful woman coming the other direction. I am not shy about checking someone out and I only apologies to people who are repulsed by me, but I was nervous to catch her eye. She looked at me, I looked at her and something sparked in my head. I knew her, but where from? It was the eyes that gave it away. Oh her eyes. Time had made her more beautiful, the feint lines appearing across her thin pale skin and now a cascade of red hair in place of her cropped brown hair when we used to date. I am sure if I posted a photo most people would see her as underwhelming but to me it was perfection. What cut deepest was her young child. I have wanted children since I was one myself. To be able to teach someone, show them the world would be amazing. But this isn’t going to happen for me and that’s now out of my hands.

It was a glimpse into a life I could have lived. I now feel like I am in some sort of movie where I am living two lives. Wishing I could leave one behind and take my place in another. It’s not that I hate my life but I am halfway to the finish line. I just simply want more from my life and perhaps that is selfish. But you only get one life and I feel perhaps I should be doing more with it

Don’t look at me. I’m irrelevant

I am new to this and I guess everyone opens a blog site with why they are beginning a blog. Very simply I am using this as therapy. I hope that nobody tracks it back to me but if you do I hope that you respect me enough to keep it to yourself.

This stands to be a very honest view of myself, my thoughts and my experiences. Written in a way I would not be able to if people could trace it back to myself. Names and locations will be changed and some things may entirely be fictional. Who knows what path this will take me down.

In this blog I will explore myself, my history, my future, my philosophy and probably a loads of IT Stuff.

Thanks for looking