Golly, last night was the first New Year’s Eve in, quite possibly, twenty years in which I’ve not wanted to do anything. I remember being in a grump on 31 December 1999, mainly due to the whole millennium thing having become rather tacky. My family weren’t too impressed that I hid away in the computer room sulking, but hey-ho.
This year, well, I’ve not exactly been in a grump, but my recent descent into a depressive slump and my frustrating sleep pattern has spelled doom for my NYE plans. Not that I had any. Today I woke up at seven-thirty in the evening, so that’s how my sleep is going. I’m trying to gradually push it back around to a healthy normal, but it’s taking time. And effort. I’m usually a bit of an insomniac but, funnily enough, now that I’m actually trying to stay awake longer, guess what my body wants to do? Yup, that’s right – sleep. FFS.
Anyway, even though I hadn’t planned on doing so, I might pop out to the pub today. My local seems to be the only out-of-town drinking place that can be arsed to be open on Christmas and New Year’s Day. How convenient for me! I’ll let you know how I get on. Bet you I fall asleep before opening time. All I need to do is stay awake for another four hours or so.
Oh, that massive boxset of William Shakespeare audio recordings arrived! It’s very swish. Now all I need to do is find a place to store the damned thing. I’m running out of space in this one bedroom flat. Oh well. I’ve imported ten of the plays so far onto my iPod Nano, but it’s quite a labour-intensive process. I’ll get there in the end, I’m sure. I just hope there’s space on the device for them all.
One of my old Facebook friends has asked my brother for my contact details, now that I’ve shut my account down. I’m not sure why he’s so keen, as we never spoke while I was still on there. Who knows, maybe it’ll spark some actual contact. He’s married with kids, so I doubt his interest is romantic. Unless he’s fed up with the wife and kids. We shall see.
I finally got around to watching Gosford Park the other day. I’ve had it on DVD for ages, but I just haven’t been in the mood for it. I do love Robert Altman films, but I do find I need to be in a very particular frame of mind for them. This week just felt right. Or was it last week? Urgh, I’m totally losing track of time and space. Well, the film is really good, considering Mr Altman made it so late in his career. Directors usually lose their mojo towards the end. Everyone was great in it, especially Emily Watson, Maggie Smith and Kristin Scott Thomas, who is one of my all-time favourite people. Bob Balaban is always a treat too. It’s like catching up with an old friend. I was a little saddened that Derek Jacobi and Stephen Fry weren’t in it more, but wotchagonnado? I found Clive Owen quite compelling, considering I don’t usually like him. I don’t know why I don’t usually like him. It’s an irrational dislike. I didn’t like James McAvoy until I found him to be the only good thing in that terrible X-Men: First Class movie.
Not speaking of the Holocaust, I watched Schindler’s List yesterday. So great. I spent most of the runtime trying not to burst into tears, which I’m guessing is pretty normal. I wonder if Liam Neeson and Ralph Fiennes have been in a movie together since. I’m guessing Mr Neeson has retired now, since he had that trouble in the papers recently. Alas! Well, after watching the film, I went down a Wikipedia rabbit-hole looking up information on the Holocaust. You can imagine how awful that was. Be nice to each other, people.
Righty, I think that’s about it for today. Not much has happened since whenever. Do drop me a line if you’re about.
Toodles!
Tuesday, 31 December 2019
Friday, 27 December 2019
Drifting through December
So, Christmas Day turned out to be what it seems to have become – a solo affair with a trip down to the pub for gallons of guffaws. There was a lovely atmosphere throughout the afternoon down at my local, which included some regulars and some randoms, the latter of which seemed surprisingly behaved. The guy I kinda like was in there twice (popping home in between to his paternal family for lunch, methinks) but, as usual, I didn’t get to have a proper chat with him. He seems to like conversing with everyone but me. Maybe he senses I like him. Or he just finds me dull. Either way - oh well. I did get a free bottle of premium-strength beer from the manager for being a dependable regular. That actually cheered me up. This time of year has begun to be rather a struggle for me, which it never has done until now. It’s a long time since I was a kid and Christmas was a mind-bendingly exciting and magical time of year. Now it has become something else entirely.
After the pub, I came home and, I think, just passed out on my bed. Yes, I’d had that much. Around six o’clock I came to and ordered a curry, which was only ok. Compared to last year, there really wasn’t much open on the day. That took me by surprise.
Around midnight, I got quite a treat. Basically, my neighbour below was turning her flat into a nightclub, as usual, but her direct next-door neighbour took exception to this. He’d clearly had enough. I’ve also had enough recently, so I totally understood, but I had stopped hoping that others would support me. That night, they did! I hadn’t said or done anything, but this other neighbour went and pounded on her door, shouting at her to turn the music down/off. She came out and argued with him for a bit then, after they had both retreated into their own homes, turned the music back on and – get this! – went out into the stairwell and sung at the top of her voice. It was the behavior of a crazy person. Well, she’s had me banging on my floor in frustration, which is very against my character, and now this other bloke has snapped, so maybe now she’ll take the hint. Who knows. The type of person who plays music at wall-rattling volume in a communal block of flats is not usually the perceptive type though, unfortunately.
Since Christmas Day, things have been rather quiet. I suppose it has only been two days, though. Time seems to be passing so damned slow at the moment. I’m not sure what’s changed. Perhaps it’s me. I did just finish off the Blandings TV series, which I heartily recommend. It’s only two seasons long and stars the wonderful Timothy Spall and Jennifer Saunders. The real find, however, is Jack Farthing. He’s like a more charismatic, talented and funny Hugh Grant. I’m rather smitten, actually. The feel of the show is a little too cartoony in the first season, but they noticeably tone that down for season two. Sadly, however, the writing isn’t as strong in the second season, so it’s a mixed bag. I laughed out loud so many times during the first season. That's not to say that two is bad. They're both very fun. Spall is also far too animated in the second season, losing the genius of his spaced-out drunkard that made the first so wonderful. Sometimes, they would only need to cut to him looking confused and I'd be roaring with laughter. That's all lost in the second season. Farthing is perfect throughout, however. He can “jack” MY “farthing”, any day! Get it?! Sticky wicket!
Anyway, moving on…
I was a bit upset the other week at the general election turnout but, as discussed in my "The end of an era" post, I have found society to be very reactionary and conservative of late. Who knows what's going on. Youngish folk between 20 and 40 seem to have a preoccupation with hatred, fueled by self-righteousness and an enjoyment of the adrenaline produced by rage, and an almost fetishistic desire to be outraged by something new every day. Their tactics for dealing with such feelings have become worryingly extreme and hypocritically intolerant. I consider myself very politically correct, but things have gone to a weird extreme. It's safer just to keep your head down and not to say anything these days, which is frightening. I dread where this is all leading, more than I fear anything else. Maybe the next generation will be a little more chilled-out. It sounds like most of them are stoned anyway, which is a positive start.
Oh, I’ve just treated myself to the Shakespeare audio recordings collection that I’ve had my eye on for a while. It’s a bit spendy, but I fancied a pick-me-up. I’ve got the BBC DVD set, but I’m finding I quite like such a thing just to listen to in bed. You know – without the telly on. Also, since Shakespeare’s dialogue is so tricky to keep track of, having it pumped directly into my ears with headphones helps a great deal. Otherwise, I’d have to have the telly on far louder than I’d like. I don’t want to turn into her downstairs! Well, that should be arriving later in the week, perhaps after New Year’s Day. We shall see. I’m not in a rush.
I’m still in regular contact with my ex after deciding to patch up our friendship and have another voice in my life. I’m not sure why, but they’ve been mostly texting me this week, instead of the daily phone calls. I’ve not fancied talking much anyway, so maybe it’s for the best. Perhaps they’ve felt the same way. It is a funny time of year, after all.
my deciding to get back in touch is looking rather timely, as I’m a little concerned that another friend may be moving on. It’s not a terrible surprise, but it’s still a little jarring. It could just be a dry spell coupled with my usual paranoia, but I'm sensing something new. They've just done the equivalent of a businessman asking an old colleague, with whom he has had a regular casual lunch for years, to suddenly start making formal appointments to see him through the first businessman's secretary. I’ll persevere, but I’m preparing myself to make some changes. They’ve not been about much this year anyway, so it’ll be fine. I’m experienced at having to let go.
As yet, I’ve still no plans for New Year’s Eve. My sleep pattern has been so inconsistent of late that I’m not entirely sure whether I’m coming or going. I woke up at three o’clock this afternoon, so that should give you an idea of what’s going on. I’m just sipping a coffee now, as of midnight, and may break into the box of lager that arrived today, in an attempt to keep myself awake until late tomorrow. This never works, but I’m feeling so low that some alcoholic oblivion might make a welcome change of headspace.
Oh, I’m just awful.
Well, that’s about all for now. I hope you’re all doing well and coping during this strange period. If you’re struggling and fancy a chat, then do drop me a line. I’m usually pottering about somewhere.
Toodles!
After the pub, I came home and, I think, just passed out on my bed. Yes, I’d had that much. Around six o’clock I came to and ordered a curry, which was only ok. Compared to last year, there really wasn’t much open on the day. That took me by surprise.
Around midnight, I got quite a treat. Basically, my neighbour below was turning her flat into a nightclub, as usual, but her direct next-door neighbour took exception to this. He’d clearly had enough. I’ve also had enough recently, so I totally understood, but I had stopped hoping that others would support me. That night, they did! I hadn’t said or done anything, but this other neighbour went and pounded on her door, shouting at her to turn the music down/off. She came out and argued with him for a bit then, after they had both retreated into their own homes, turned the music back on and – get this! – went out into the stairwell and sung at the top of her voice. It was the behavior of a crazy person. Well, she’s had me banging on my floor in frustration, which is very against my character, and now this other bloke has snapped, so maybe now she’ll take the hint. Who knows. The type of person who plays music at wall-rattling volume in a communal block of flats is not usually the perceptive type though, unfortunately.
Since Christmas Day, things have been rather quiet. I suppose it has only been two days, though. Time seems to be passing so damned slow at the moment. I’m not sure what’s changed. Perhaps it’s me. I did just finish off the Blandings TV series, which I heartily recommend. It’s only two seasons long and stars the wonderful Timothy Spall and Jennifer Saunders. The real find, however, is Jack Farthing. He’s like a more charismatic, talented and funny Hugh Grant. I’m rather smitten, actually. The feel of the show is a little too cartoony in the first season, but they noticeably tone that down for season two. Sadly, however, the writing isn’t as strong in the second season, so it’s a mixed bag. I laughed out loud so many times during the first season. That's not to say that two is bad. They're both very fun. Spall is also far too animated in the second season, losing the genius of his spaced-out drunkard that made the first so wonderful. Sometimes, they would only need to cut to him looking confused and I'd be roaring with laughter. That's all lost in the second season. Farthing is perfect throughout, however. He can “jack” MY “farthing”, any day! Get it?! Sticky wicket!
Anyway, moving on…
I was a bit upset the other week at the general election turnout but, as discussed in my "The end of an era" post, I have found society to be very reactionary and conservative of late. Who knows what's going on. Youngish folk between 20 and 40 seem to have a preoccupation with hatred, fueled by self-righteousness and an enjoyment of the adrenaline produced by rage, and an almost fetishistic desire to be outraged by something new every day. Their tactics for dealing with such feelings have become worryingly extreme and hypocritically intolerant. I consider myself very politically correct, but things have gone to a weird extreme. It's safer just to keep your head down and not to say anything these days, which is frightening. I dread where this is all leading, more than I fear anything else. Maybe the next generation will be a little more chilled-out. It sounds like most of them are stoned anyway, which is a positive start.
Oh, I’ve just treated myself to the Shakespeare audio recordings collection that I’ve had my eye on for a while. It’s a bit spendy, but I fancied a pick-me-up. I’ve got the BBC DVD set, but I’m finding I quite like such a thing just to listen to in bed. You know – without the telly on. Also, since Shakespeare’s dialogue is so tricky to keep track of, having it pumped directly into my ears with headphones helps a great deal. Otherwise, I’d have to have the telly on far louder than I’d like. I don’t want to turn into her downstairs! Well, that should be arriving later in the week, perhaps after New Year’s Day. We shall see. I’m not in a rush.
I’m still in regular contact with my ex after deciding to patch up our friendship and have another voice in my life. I’m not sure why, but they’ve been mostly texting me this week, instead of the daily phone calls. I’ve not fancied talking much anyway, so maybe it’s for the best. Perhaps they’ve felt the same way. It is a funny time of year, after all.
my deciding to get back in touch is looking rather timely, as I’m a little concerned that another friend may be moving on. It’s not a terrible surprise, but it’s still a little jarring. It could just be a dry spell coupled with my usual paranoia, but I'm sensing something new. They've just done the equivalent of a businessman asking an old colleague, with whom he has had a regular casual lunch for years, to suddenly start making formal appointments to see him through the first businessman's secretary. I’ll persevere, but I’m preparing myself to make some changes. They’ve not been about much this year anyway, so it’ll be fine. I’m experienced at having to let go.
As yet, I’ve still no plans for New Year’s Eve. My sleep pattern has been so inconsistent of late that I’m not entirely sure whether I’m coming or going. I woke up at three o’clock this afternoon, so that should give you an idea of what’s going on. I’m just sipping a coffee now, as of midnight, and may break into the box of lager that arrived today, in an attempt to keep myself awake until late tomorrow. This never works, but I’m feeling so low that some alcoholic oblivion might make a welcome change of headspace.
Oh, I’m just awful.
Well, that’s about all for now. I hope you’re all doing well and coping during this strange period. If you’re struggling and fancy a chat, then do drop me a line. I’m usually pottering about somewhere.
Toodles!
Wednesday, 18 December 2019
Season's bleatings
Hey-ho! Thought I’d drop y’all a line, considering it’s that time of year when some of us struggle to stay emotionally buoyant more than others.
My only real plan for Christmas Day is to go down to the pub, share a few guffaws with the regulars, then go home and order a curry. I don’t think I’ve had a “proper” turkey dinner with all the trimmings in a couple of years, but I guess that’ll just make the next one extra-special.
I’m patching up my friendship with my ex, as we’ve both been really unwell this year so I thought we could both do with each other’s company. I think I’m the only one of her many, many friends with who she can cope with staying over at her home and spending any great deal of time with. Well, I guess we did go out for eight years. We hadn’t had a proper catch-up since I finally moved the last of my stuff out of her house in January, which is when I felt like even our friendship was over. I may have been a little melodramatic, but that’s not too strange for me. I’m a bit daft.
So, yeah, it’s been reassuring to have another friend to keep me sane. It felt a little unfair to put all that weight on my gaming buddy and a few confused old sods down at the pub. This flat and its inconsiderate tenants have been driving me crazy, so I needed to get out and see somebody. Putting aside petty differences to improve my mental health wasn’t too tough a challenge, and things seem to be going smoothly. For now.
I’ve made an appointment in January to finally talk to my doctor about going back on antidepressants. I’ve given it a year but, alas, I’m finding I just can’t cope anymore. I know I have other health problems which affect my mood, but my general outlook on life and myself as a person are so bleak and hopeless. When my old medication worked, they helped me get out of bed every morning and tackle each new day with vigour, regardless of my circumstances. Now, every day ahead feels like a wasteland of failure and inevitable decline. My mind also keeps pummeling me with bad memories that I'd rather just forget forever. It’s become a terrible struggle to not just sit crying and wailing into the darkness. Nobody should have to put up with that.
Booze-wise – yes, me staying off it didn’t last too long. A month, was it? Roughly. Anyway, I found myself at a low point one week where I just wanted to drink myself to death. I guess I could still achieve that, but trying the antidepressant route too seems sensible. I’m curious to see which ones I get put on this time, if at all.
In terms of hobbies, I’ve been getting into classic literature of late. On my current audiobook rotation are: Les Misérables, Don Quixote, Anna Karenina, Swann's Way and David Copperfield. All weighty doorstops, for sure, but I’m quite liking sinking into the past. At the risk of sounding maudlin, I often find peace in artworks made before I was born and all the problems started. It’s rather therapeutic. I’m also listening to a series of audio lectures on key turnings points in medieval Europe, which can get rather bleak. Humans have been quite shitty to one another throughout history. It hasn’t stopped. I've also started audioreading The Diary of Samuel Pepys, which I wanted to do more as research for a writing project. I'd like to set a story in the 17th or 18th centuries, so I thought Pepys' diary would get me in the right frame of mind. I've always wanted to read it, regardless.
I’m not playing guitar much at the moment, although I’m not sure why. I have a tinker on my acoustic maybe once or twice a week, but that’s about it. I’m sure I’ll come back round to another musical phase eventually, but it’s definitely on the backburner for now.
Oh, I've bought the Are You Being Served? boxset at last. I've obviously passed it while channel hopping when it's been on telly over the years, but I don't think I've ever actually sat through an entire episode before now. For some reason, I've felt like I've needed to watch it from the start, which really wasn't necessary. I'm really enjoying it, I must say. My favourite character is Mrs Slocombe, who is probably camper than the not-as-camp-as-his-reputation-suggests Mr Humphries (who's wonderful too). There's some awkward old-school 70s racism in there unfortunately, but so far there's only been one major incident. I'm on the third of ten series at the moment, and I hope the quality doesn't go downhill too steeply towards the end.
No romance news at the moment, I'm afraid. If something does crop up, then it’ll definitely be out of left field. I really could do with some intimacy though. Not sexual intimacy, just closeness with somebody I care about and who cares about me. It could be a he. It could be a she. When I'm lying in bed watching DVDs, I often imagine there's somebody lying there with me, their head on my chest, and I smell their hair, then they look up at me and smile, and I smile back, then we hold each other a little tighter and go back to watching whatever-it-was we were watching. I miss all that. I really don’t feel romantically about my ex anymore so, even though we’re becoming friends again, I don’t think I’d want to get back together. She’s been officially promoted to being my “fag hag”. Bless.
Saying that, there are a couple of guys I like, but I think they’ll just turn out to be dead ends. I’m not much to look at these days, even if they did turn out to be gay. I need to try a bit harder. Sigh. But, yeah, I’ve made the mistake of falling for straight guys in the past and, well, misery ensued. Flirting with supermarket delivery men will just have to do for now.
So, to bring things to a close, in some ways I’m shrugging to cope, but in others I’m feeling quite productive. It really depends on my mood on the day. I’m curious to see how Christmas Day goes, as I quite enjoyed a simple afternoon down at the ale house last year. I’ve not thought about what to do for New Year’s Eve yet, which is odd for me. I’m sure I’ll pick a film series to sit down with closer to the time. Maybe I’ll do the original six Star Trek films again. They’re usually a blast.
Well, if you fancy hooking up for a few jars over the holidays, then do let me know. I’ll probably be about somewhere staring off into the distance contemplating the universe. Fun, huh?
Anyway…
Toodles!
My only real plan for Christmas Day is to go down to the pub, share a few guffaws with the regulars, then go home and order a curry. I don’t think I’ve had a “proper” turkey dinner with all the trimmings in a couple of years, but I guess that’ll just make the next one extra-special.
I’m patching up my friendship with my ex, as we’ve both been really unwell this year so I thought we could both do with each other’s company. I think I’m the only one of her many, many friends with who she can cope with staying over at her home and spending any great deal of time with. Well, I guess we did go out for eight years. We hadn’t had a proper catch-up since I finally moved the last of my stuff out of her house in January, which is when I felt like even our friendship was over. I may have been a little melodramatic, but that’s not too strange for me. I’m a bit daft.
So, yeah, it’s been reassuring to have another friend to keep me sane. It felt a little unfair to put all that weight on my gaming buddy and a few confused old sods down at the pub. This flat and its inconsiderate tenants have been driving me crazy, so I needed to get out and see somebody. Putting aside petty differences to improve my mental health wasn’t too tough a challenge, and things seem to be going smoothly. For now.
I’ve made an appointment in January to finally talk to my doctor about going back on antidepressants. I’ve given it a year but, alas, I’m finding I just can’t cope anymore. I know I have other health problems which affect my mood, but my general outlook on life and myself as a person are so bleak and hopeless. When my old medication worked, they helped me get out of bed every morning and tackle each new day with vigour, regardless of my circumstances. Now, every day ahead feels like a wasteland of failure and inevitable decline. My mind also keeps pummeling me with bad memories that I'd rather just forget forever. It’s become a terrible struggle to not just sit crying and wailing into the darkness. Nobody should have to put up with that.
Booze-wise – yes, me staying off it didn’t last too long. A month, was it? Roughly. Anyway, I found myself at a low point one week where I just wanted to drink myself to death. I guess I could still achieve that, but trying the antidepressant route too seems sensible. I’m curious to see which ones I get put on this time, if at all.
In terms of hobbies, I’ve been getting into classic literature of late. On my current audiobook rotation are: Les Misérables, Don Quixote, Anna Karenina, Swann's Way and David Copperfield. All weighty doorstops, for sure, but I’m quite liking sinking into the past. At the risk of sounding maudlin, I often find peace in artworks made before I was born and all the problems started. It’s rather therapeutic. I’m also listening to a series of audio lectures on key turnings points in medieval Europe, which can get rather bleak. Humans have been quite shitty to one another throughout history. It hasn’t stopped. I've also started audioreading The Diary of Samuel Pepys, which I wanted to do more as research for a writing project. I'd like to set a story in the 17th or 18th centuries, so I thought Pepys' diary would get me in the right frame of mind. I've always wanted to read it, regardless.
I’m not playing guitar much at the moment, although I’m not sure why. I have a tinker on my acoustic maybe once or twice a week, but that’s about it. I’m sure I’ll come back round to another musical phase eventually, but it’s definitely on the backburner for now.
Oh, I've bought the Are You Being Served? boxset at last. I've obviously passed it while channel hopping when it's been on telly over the years, but I don't think I've ever actually sat through an entire episode before now. For some reason, I've felt like I've needed to watch it from the start, which really wasn't necessary. I'm really enjoying it, I must say. My favourite character is Mrs Slocombe, who is probably camper than the not-as-camp-as-his-reputation-suggests Mr Humphries (who's wonderful too). There's some awkward old-school 70s racism in there unfortunately, but so far there's only been one major incident. I'm on the third of ten series at the moment, and I hope the quality doesn't go downhill too steeply towards the end.
No romance news at the moment, I'm afraid. If something does crop up, then it’ll definitely be out of left field. I really could do with some intimacy though. Not sexual intimacy, just closeness with somebody I care about and who cares about me. It could be a he. It could be a she. When I'm lying in bed watching DVDs, I often imagine there's somebody lying there with me, their head on my chest, and I smell their hair, then they look up at me and smile, and I smile back, then we hold each other a little tighter and go back to watching whatever-it-was we were watching. I miss all that. I really don’t feel romantically about my ex anymore so, even though we’re becoming friends again, I don’t think I’d want to get back together. She’s been officially promoted to being my “fag hag”. Bless.
Saying that, there are a couple of guys I like, but I think they’ll just turn out to be dead ends. I’m not much to look at these days, even if they did turn out to be gay. I need to try a bit harder. Sigh. But, yeah, I’ve made the mistake of falling for straight guys in the past and, well, misery ensued. Flirting with supermarket delivery men will just have to do for now.
So, to bring things to a close, in some ways I’m shrugging to cope, but in others I’m feeling quite productive. It really depends on my mood on the day. I’m curious to see how Christmas Day goes, as I quite enjoyed a simple afternoon down at the ale house last year. I’ve not thought about what to do for New Year’s Eve yet, which is odd for me. I’m sure I’ll pick a film series to sit down with closer to the time. Maybe I’ll do the original six Star Trek films again. They’re usually a blast.
Well, if you fancy hooking up for a few jars over the holidays, then do let me know. I’ll probably be about somewhere staring off into the distance contemplating the universe. Fun, huh?
Anyway…
Toodles!
Wednesday, 23 October 2019
Fear and loathing on the breadline
Hello! Just an attempt at a general update here. I’ve been pretty quiet of late, so I thought I’d outline a few ongoing life issues. Nothing too serious though. I think.
Due to my previously discussed new health problems, I’ve decided to knock booze on the head as best I can. I’ll allow myself Christmas, New Year’s Eve, my birthday and a hair-of-the-dog for the resultant hangovers, but that’s about it.
While I am, indeed, doing this for my own health, it was inspired by a gaming buddy not wanting to get together anymore when I was in that state. I wasn’t being nasty or anything, I just think it was bothering them to hear me in that condition. I’d keep off the bottle even if they still didn’t want to game with me, so this isn’t me trying to guilt-trip them. Sometimes you just need that kick up the arse.
I must say, going to the pub every day and asking for an orange juice & soda water has been a hurdle, as you do get the odd comment. Mostly though, people have been really cool about it, which has been a great relief. I mean, we all go through these things, right?
Sadly, what has made it harder has been a few smaller, random, unrelated things going wrong. These have been: medical appointments proving fruitless due to professional incompetence, stuff breaking down on me, and people I know going through their own life difficulties, leaving me feeling sad for them and nihilistic about the general unfairness of life. Despite these things, I’m learning to just ride the wave, and accept that getting drunk won’t solve any of the issues that keep cropping up.
Related to my staying on the wagon, I’m also trying to get more exercise, mostly by going out for a walk in the morning every day, then hopping on the exercise bike just before bed. Both boost my mood and leave me feeling really positive. It’s just the gaps in-between that fill me with anxiety, dread and hopelessness. What about, you ask? Nothing. It’s just good old clinical depression hard at work. I think the time is nearing for me to go back to my doctor and try out some different antidepressants, as my body seemed to start rejecting Fluoxetine after eight loyal years.
I’m still playing the lottery, which I’m forever unsure about. Some days it fills me with enough hope just to get through the week, then some days it fills me with despair, especially since I never win the jackpot. I just need to win once though, I keep telling myself. Just once!
My lottery-related “what if?” fantasies are becoming more and more regular and detailed. I hunt for houses on the internet that I’d like to buy, should I win the jackpot. I’ve favourited a few extravagant doozies to my browser. I’m not planning on staying in Sheffield, as there’s nothing keeping me here anymore. I’m looking to go back down south, where the landscape might be easier for a person with mobility issues to deal with. Sheffield is just too full of deadly little surprises.
Any recommendations you have will be much appreciated. I’m sure I’ll win tonight and have to start packing my bags in the morning, hehe.
Elsewhere, I’m working on my fiction writing, which could also spell my way out of this hellhole. It’s slow going, but I’m feeling pretty positive about it. I just need to stop dwelling on the chapters I’ve already written for now and just plow on to the end of this draft. I keep holding myself back by obsessing over the handful of opening pages. That behaviour needs to wait until the next pass.
So, yes, life’s mainly been a series of sharp peaks and troughs, which is something going back on medication should smooth out. I might make that appointment tomorrow. I’m getting a bit tired of randomly bursting into tears.
Well, I best leave you for now. I’ve been struggling to sleep this week, so my exercise routine is a bit hit and miss .I didn’t go for my walk this morning, and I’m not too sure whether I’ll be steady enough to go on the bike later. Sleep deprivation is truly a horrible thing.
Do stay in touch, darlings. If anyone is actually out there. My pageviews aren’t very encouraging these days, but it wasn’t any better before I left social networking, so I’m not putting it down to that. I guess I’m just fading away. I’m not a big seeker of attention anyway. Less is more.
Anyway, that’s my spleen vented for now.
Toodles.
Due to my previously discussed new health problems, I’ve decided to knock booze on the head as best I can. I’ll allow myself Christmas, New Year’s Eve, my birthday and a hair-of-the-dog for the resultant hangovers, but that’s about it.
While I am, indeed, doing this for my own health, it was inspired by a gaming buddy not wanting to get together anymore when I was in that state. I wasn’t being nasty or anything, I just think it was bothering them to hear me in that condition. I’d keep off the bottle even if they still didn’t want to game with me, so this isn’t me trying to guilt-trip them. Sometimes you just need that kick up the arse.
I must say, going to the pub every day and asking for an orange juice & soda water has been a hurdle, as you do get the odd comment. Mostly though, people have been really cool about it, which has been a great relief. I mean, we all go through these things, right?
Sadly, what has made it harder has been a few smaller, random, unrelated things going wrong. These have been: medical appointments proving fruitless due to professional incompetence, stuff breaking down on me, and people I know going through their own life difficulties, leaving me feeling sad for them and nihilistic about the general unfairness of life. Despite these things, I’m learning to just ride the wave, and accept that getting drunk won’t solve any of the issues that keep cropping up.
Related to my staying on the wagon, I’m also trying to get more exercise, mostly by going out for a walk in the morning every day, then hopping on the exercise bike just before bed. Both boost my mood and leave me feeling really positive. It’s just the gaps in-between that fill me with anxiety, dread and hopelessness. What about, you ask? Nothing. It’s just good old clinical depression hard at work. I think the time is nearing for me to go back to my doctor and try out some different antidepressants, as my body seemed to start rejecting Fluoxetine after eight loyal years.
I’m still playing the lottery, which I’m forever unsure about. Some days it fills me with enough hope just to get through the week, then some days it fills me with despair, especially since I never win the jackpot. I just need to win once though, I keep telling myself. Just once!
My lottery-related “what if?” fantasies are becoming more and more regular and detailed. I hunt for houses on the internet that I’d like to buy, should I win the jackpot. I’ve favourited a few extravagant doozies to my browser. I’m not planning on staying in Sheffield, as there’s nothing keeping me here anymore. I’m looking to go back down south, where the landscape might be easier for a person with mobility issues to deal with. Sheffield is just too full of deadly little surprises.
Any recommendations you have will be much appreciated. I’m sure I’ll win tonight and have to start packing my bags in the morning, hehe.
Elsewhere, I’m working on my fiction writing, which could also spell my way out of this hellhole. It’s slow going, but I’m feeling pretty positive about it. I just need to stop dwelling on the chapters I’ve already written for now and just plow on to the end of this draft. I keep holding myself back by obsessing over the handful of opening pages. That behaviour needs to wait until the next pass.
So, yes, life’s mainly been a series of sharp peaks and troughs, which is something going back on medication should smooth out. I might make that appointment tomorrow. I’m getting a bit tired of randomly bursting into tears.
Well, I best leave you for now. I’ve been struggling to sleep this week, so my exercise routine is a bit hit and miss .I didn’t go for my walk this morning, and I’m not too sure whether I’ll be steady enough to go on the bike later. Sleep deprivation is truly a horrible thing.
Do stay in touch, darlings. If anyone is actually out there. My pageviews aren’t very encouraging these days, but it wasn’t any better before I left social networking, so I’m not putting it down to that. I guess I’m just fading away. I’m not a big seeker of attention anyway. Less is more.
Anyway, that’s my spleen vented for now.
Toodles.
Tuesday, 22 October 2019
Despair in the early hours
Kinda feel like my life's come to a halt recently. Things that are generally out of my control, but which still involve me, keep going wrong. I try, but the universe seems bent against me. I'm struggling to summon the strength to fight all this negativity. It's all just so awful. Please say this isn't how it'll be forever. It hurts so much.
Sunday, 13 October 2019
"I have no mouth, and I must scream"
A good friend, with whom I have broken bread nearly every day for the past couple of years, has found themselves in a very difficult situation. For many reasons, I am unable to help them. There is not one thing I can do about any of it. This is very frustrating. I can barely express in words how upsetting it is to have a friend in need and be unable to reach out to them. I have been on the verge of tears and have been physically shaking for days due to how useless I feel. I only hope that, whatever is currently happening on their end, it all comes to a happy conclusion and we are able to speak again soon. These are dark times indeed. My faith in humanity can get no lower. Life truly is an endless horror.
UPDATE: Crisis over. Stress reduced. Faith in humanity improving.
UPDATE: Crisis over. Stress reduced. Faith in humanity improving.
Saturday, 14 September 2019
The end of an era
Long-time no see, readers! I’ve been preoccupied with random distractions, it seems. Such is life, I am afraid.
I’ve recently decided to leave social media services for good, which wasn’t an easy decision to make. I’d made a few failed attempts to do so in the past, attempts that usually ended with me falling off the wagon due to my fairly isolated lifestyle. What has cemented this final closure of my accounts is an increasing realisation that the social landscape of the internet has changed, rather radically, over a number of years. It was a slow and subtle change, but a change that I’ve felt the effects of quite strongly, leading me to want to make my own change.
While there were many exceptions, I feel that, when its boom began in the mid-90s, the internet was a haven for awkward nerds, like myself, who found it difficult to connect with people out in the “real world”. They were generally passive, rational and logical folk, with open hearts and minds. Most importantly, they were lonely and sought the company of others like themselves. For people like me, that first ten years or so was a utopia. I met many friends, some of whom I met in person, including my ex-girlfriend.
So, what’s changed? Well, getting onto the internet used to be a fairly tricky affair. You needed a computer and an internet connection, neither of which were cheap and easy to set up. You had to really want to get online. Those who weren’t really that bothered were content with driving their cars to meet their already-established social circle in person. Now, anyone with a phone can access the internet and insinuate themselves amongst the online community, including some very hostile, irrational and illogically-minded people. It is no longer a haven for lonely souls wishing to make a connection with other people. It has become a battleground for attention and self-righteousness.
This is where my decision to leave social media comes in.
My general approach to posting online over the years has been to write relatable, witty and interesting anecdotes about my life that might provoke a discussion. I would also post about my varying cultural interests, but overall it would be stories about my personal comings and goings. However, I slowly became concerned that, not only was I boring people, but I may even be annoying them and embarrassing myself.
There is also something that I would describe as my "self-service checkout theory". Simply put, from personal observations, a self-service checkout takes longer to use than standing in a queue and waiting to be served by an actual member of staff. This feels similar to social media, in that we have all come to believe that, by simply adding people to our friends lists, we are staying in touch with them. This, like the belief that the self-service checkout is somehow quicker, is merely an illusion. There still needs to be some sort of interaction to happen, but we have become unwilling to do so. In fact, if you do attempt to chat, even if you were not the one to make initial contact (friend requests and all that), then people are simply confused. So now we have a case of: "That guy I went to school with thirty years ago is now in my friends list, so we must be the best of friends again!". No. This is no longer enough. For me, at least. I want to talk.
To add to these thoughts and concerns, the new wave of internet users meant that many feeds became filled with arguments about politics and current affairs, baby-boomers gushing tediously over their toddlers, or enthusiasm about terrible, terrible, terrible superhero movies. None of which I can relate to. I don’t consider myself a snob (ok, maybe a little), but I have some taste, and pop culture now seems to have officially lost me. Or perhaps I have lost it. I am nearly 40, after all.
The political and current affairs stuff is quite important to note, as this has arrived with an aggression that I am very uncomfortable with. People claiming to be coming from a liberal and socially responsible place have begun to act like the fascists they apparently hate so much. The word “hate” there is quite crucial. To abuse, taunt and physically assault people for their beliefs, whatever they might be, and to incite others to do so, and to create an atmosphere of fear where people are afraid to express themselves, are acts of fascism. The “Never Stop Punching Nazis” movement and their ilk appear to be unaware of the grim irony of their own actions. There are no exceptions, and there are no excuses. No matter how righteous you believe yourself to be, this behaviour is wrong. Furthermore, negativity is being spread by people believing themselves to be doing good by disseminating it. They seem to feel that, by sharing news items or posts about things they don’t agree with, often with their own snide commentary attached, they will make the world a better place. This is untrue. All they are really doing is spreading hatred, and also adding to it. What a shame.
So, yes, I have voted with my feet and left the internet’s social landscape. For the most part. With any luck, other passive, peaceful, logical and soft-hearted liberals like myself will also become weary and follow my example, leaving only the rabid dogs to fight amongst themselves. Maybe those left will see the horror they have created and amend their ways to allow folk like me to return, but I shall not be holding my breath.
Until a new wind blows, I am finding a great deal of satisfaction in actually leaving my home and meeting people in person. My regular trips to the pub on weekday afternoons is my new social media. It used to be the other way around, whereby I would talk all day online then skulk off to sit quietly in the corner of a pub all by myself. Now the opposite is true. How very strange. But interesting.
Anyway, if you wish to have a chat, then do seek me out in an ale house somehow, somewhere, sometime. I’ll get the first round in, my friends.
Do stay in touch, and be excellent to each other.
Toodles!
I’ve recently decided to leave social media services for good, which wasn’t an easy decision to make. I’d made a few failed attempts to do so in the past, attempts that usually ended with me falling off the wagon due to my fairly isolated lifestyle. What has cemented this final closure of my accounts is an increasing realisation that the social landscape of the internet has changed, rather radically, over a number of years. It was a slow and subtle change, but a change that I’ve felt the effects of quite strongly, leading me to want to make my own change.
While there were many exceptions, I feel that, when its boom began in the mid-90s, the internet was a haven for awkward nerds, like myself, who found it difficult to connect with people out in the “real world”. They were generally passive, rational and logical folk, with open hearts and minds. Most importantly, they were lonely and sought the company of others like themselves. For people like me, that first ten years or so was a utopia. I met many friends, some of whom I met in person, including my ex-girlfriend.
So, what’s changed? Well, getting onto the internet used to be a fairly tricky affair. You needed a computer and an internet connection, neither of which were cheap and easy to set up. You had to really want to get online. Those who weren’t really that bothered were content with driving their cars to meet their already-established social circle in person. Now, anyone with a phone can access the internet and insinuate themselves amongst the online community, including some very hostile, irrational and illogically-minded people. It is no longer a haven for lonely souls wishing to make a connection with other people. It has become a battleground for attention and self-righteousness.
This is where my decision to leave social media comes in.
My general approach to posting online over the years has been to write relatable, witty and interesting anecdotes about my life that might provoke a discussion. I would also post about my varying cultural interests, but overall it would be stories about my personal comings and goings. However, I slowly became concerned that, not only was I boring people, but I may even be annoying them and embarrassing myself.
There is also something that I would describe as my "self-service checkout theory". Simply put, from personal observations, a self-service checkout takes longer to use than standing in a queue and waiting to be served by an actual member of staff. This feels similar to social media, in that we have all come to believe that, by simply adding people to our friends lists, we are staying in touch with them. This, like the belief that the self-service checkout is somehow quicker, is merely an illusion. There still needs to be some sort of interaction to happen, but we have become unwilling to do so. In fact, if you do attempt to chat, even if you were not the one to make initial contact (friend requests and all that), then people are simply confused. So now we have a case of: "That guy I went to school with thirty years ago is now in my friends list, so we must be the best of friends again!". No. This is no longer enough. For me, at least. I want to talk.
To add to these thoughts and concerns, the new wave of internet users meant that many feeds became filled with arguments about politics and current affairs, baby-boomers gushing tediously over their toddlers, or enthusiasm about terrible, terrible, terrible superhero movies. None of which I can relate to. I don’t consider myself a snob (ok, maybe a little), but I have some taste, and pop culture now seems to have officially lost me. Or perhaps I have lost it. I am nearly 40, after all.
The political and current affairs stuff is quite important to note, as this has arrived with an aggression that I am very uncomfortable with. People claiming to be coming from a liberal and socially responsible place have begun to act like the fascists they apparently hate so much. The word “hate” there is quite crucial. To abuse, taunt and physically assault people for their beliefs, whatever they might be, and to incite others to do so, and to create an atmosphere of fear where people are afraid to express themselves, are acts of fascism. The “Never Stop Punching Nazis” movement and their ilk appear to be unaware of the grim irony of their own actions. There are no exceptions, and there are no excuses. No matter how righteous you believe yourself to be, this behaviour is wrong. Furthermore, negativity is being spread by people believing themselves to be doing good by disseminating it. They seem to feel that, by sharing news items or posts about things they don’t agree with, often with their own snide commentary attached, they will make the world a better place. This is untrue. All they are really doing is spreading hatred, and also adding to it. What a shame.
So, yes, I have voted with my feet and left the internet’s social landscape. For the most part. With any luck, other passive, peaceful, logical and soft-hearted liberals like myself will also become weary and follow my example, leaving only the rabid dogs to fight amongst themselves. Maybe those left will see the horror they have created and amend their ways to allow folk like me to return, but I shall not be holding my breath.
Until a new wind blows, I am finding a great deal of satisfaction in actually leaving my home and meeting people in person. My regular trips to the pub on weekday afternoons is my new social media. It used to be the other way around, whereby I would talk all day online then skulk off to sit quietly in the corner of a pub all by myself. Now the opposite is true. How very strange. But interesting.
Anyway, if you wish to have a chat, then do seek me out in an ale house somehow, somewhere, sometime. I’ll get the first round in, my friends.
Do stay in touch, and be excellent to each other.
Toodles!
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