Saturday, 30 April 2011

empty nest

Yesterday was a tough emotional day.

Son has officially moved out and is now living in a different country to me. Lucky bastard texted me last night to say he loves his room and was having a cigarette and enjoying the view on his balcony.
I’m waiting to see pictures.

I'm imagining this . . . .and me sat on it.
Meanwhile I was very upset.
On a positive note I clean when upset so at least I’ve been crying in a shiny tidy house. I haven’t spoke to anyone, other then by text, for fear of sobbing down the phone which will no doubt bring people round and that is the last thing I want at the moment.

When I’m sad I like to be left alone.
Much as I like to wallow in self pity, and I'm fucking good at it - it’s not a spectator sport.

Also it occurs to me that if any old friends were to come here now they’d look at the lack of clutter and dust in my house and probably think I’ve regressed to my youth and am back on speed.

Still not feeling great today, made shepherds pie earlier then realised I’d made enough for him as well and promptly started crying. From this day forwards it will be called emotional pie in my house.
I suppose it’s to be expected really, I miss him already and most kids that leave home stay close enough to come for food five times a week.

Is anyone hungry ?

Ah well - that’s dinner sorted for the next three days, and I’m a bit annoyed because if I’d thought about it before I cooked I could’ve put more chilli in it too.
At least he won’t be round borrowing a tenner every other day.
Every cloud and all that . . . .

Anyway I am very proud of him, it’s a brave thing to do for anyone and despite the fact that I will worry I know that he will be ok.

It’s all about perspective too.

As a parent you want the best for your children, and of course one day they're going to leave.

It's boys who are still living with mummy when they're forty that are worrying.

He’s gone away to do a safe job (he works in marketing for a Hotel company), in a beautiful city where he already has a few friends. I can call, text or talk online to him anytime, in fact he’s probably texted me more in the last 24 hours then he normally does in a week.
He’s only a two hour plane ride away - I’ve already looked at prices to go and see him on his birthday next month and it will only cost me £100.

And if for some reason things didn’t work out he can come home anytime.

Some people have to say goodbye to their children as they are going away to fight in war zones, where they have limited opportunities for contact, and where they cannot leave until their tour of duty ends.

How any parent copes with that I really don’t know.
My heart goes out to them.

Wednesday, 27 April 2011

what fucking wedding ?

Apparently on Friday there’s a wedding.

Like I give a fuck - don’t get me started on my opinions of the royal family.
I’ll keep it brief. Stuck up bunch of idiots who drain the countries resources and serve no useful purpose.

So anyway.
As I said in a previous post in my world Friday is the day Son leaves home.

Yeah don’t expect me to care about a fucking posh twat tying the proverbial knot - the one good thing about this is they made it a national holiday so I didn’t need to book a day off work in order to wave goodbye to my baby.

But my impending empty nest is the ONLY thing I’m thinking about.

Last night I had a conversation with a friend :

“Have you got any plans for Friday Cowgirl”
“Oh, you know, most likely I’ll just sit in my house and cry”
“Really ? It affects you that much”
“Well of course, I’m putting on a brave face but I’m only human so it’s gonna be emotional”
“I suppose, happy things affect me too but I don’t think I’ll be actually crying”
“Happy ? Yeah for him of course it is, but I will be upset”
“Why is the royal wedding gonna make you sad ?”

Done that a few times, had conversations where me and the other person were talking about different things, but it did cheer me up.
For five minutes.
48 hours and he’ll be on the plane.

And Willy and Kate…..can go fuck themselves, the bridesmaids and the best man for all I care.
Fucking stuck up cunts - stealing my emotional thunder.

Monday, 25 April 2011

parental advisory

The sort out continues, found a few things today that made me remember things I’d forgot about - I love it when that happens.

In a box under Sons bed was the Ice T tape.

Not sure what the name of the album is but I remember this tape very well. It begins with Ice saying :
“If you are offended by words like bitch, fuck, ho…(insert a bunch of other swear words)…take the tape out now……
This is not a pop album…….
…Oh by the way suck my motherfucking dick”

Son discovered Hip-Hop when he was about 11, one of his friends older brothers gave him a Wu Tang CD. I don’t agree with a lot of censorship, educating your children about right and wrong is more important to me. So whilst it might’ve been considered inappropriate by some people I let him listen to whatever he wanted.
As long as he wasn’t gonna sing ‘Wu Tang aint nothing to fuck with’ in front of my mum or his teachers I trust him make his own choices.
He has been brought up to make the right ones.

I give credit to the Wu for enlightening Son to some parts of black history too.
He’s mixed race and as a white parent raising a black child it sometimes worried me that there were aspects of his culture I couldn’t give him. Although when he came home from school with his first self selected library book and it was a history of Martin Luther King, Abraham Lincoln and Malcom X I figured I done ok.

He’s very self aware.

So the Hip-Hop, and the language of some of it, wasn’t a problem.
Fuck it he’s my kid and he’s listened to me swearing all his life, so when a friend of mine on hearing that he was getting into that kind of music gave him the aforementioned Ice T tape it was fine. In fact Son, who was probably 12 or 13 couldn’t wait to play it to me - he thought it was hilarious.

A while after this Son started hanging around with a new friend called Fraser. The new mate was at our house most afternoons after school. I asked Son why they never went to Fraser’s house, he said
“his house is weird, his Mum says you got to ask if you want a glass of water and he‘s not allowed to play computer games”
If Fraser was in our house he would constantly ask me to check the time - he told me if he was ever late home he would be grounded for a week.

Strict parents then.
No wonder he liked our house so much. I would tell the kids to help themselves if they wanted anything and our little front room was actually Sons room for him and his friends so they could use the Playstation without bothering me.

But after about three weeks of being round every day Fraser was suddenly noticeably absent.
Son said he didn’t think he wanted to be his mate anymore because every day at school when he or the other lads asked him if he was coming round later he had ‘something’ to do. Boys being boys it didn’t really seem to bother them, there was about 8 of them in their little group anyway.

About a week went by and then this particular day I was in the house on my own and there was a knock at the door.
I opened it and there was Fraser.

“My Dad says I have to give this back”……and handed me the Ice T tape.

I've put the tape in the memory box.

Sunday, 24 April 2011


Why do I keep so much crap ?

Son is moving out next Friday so we have decided to move bedrooms around - his bed and stuff is going in the spare room so he has a room for when he comes home (he is moving abroad for work), and I am going to rent his room out.
We have spent the last two days sorting through the shit that I have been saving ‘just in case’.

Just in case of what ?

Just in never know.
I suddenly lose three stone and feel inclined to wear clothes that I didn’t like when they fitted me.

I meet someone who collects old mobile phone chargers, various bits of wire and broken lamps.

I smoke too much weed, revert to my hippy days and get an urge to hang tie dye throws from every ceiling in my now subtly decorated house.

Son decides Xbox is crap and falls in love with the Super Nintendo again.

Will I ever need to use 10 years worth of bills and receipts.
Maybe it's not too late to claim a refund on the washing machine that’s gone rusty in the garden ?
Are all those ornaments that I hated when they were given to me going to suddenly appeal.

Am I gonna get a call from a friend in dire need of some broken shelves ?

I even had a TV in there that’s so old there’s only 8 buttons on the remote.

Of course some of the stuff I’ve saved has a certain amount of emotional attachment, but I have been ruthless and reduced an entire room full of useful items utter shit down to about three small boxes.
And the front of my house now looks like a rubbish dump.
Probably because it is.

What always amazes me is the amount of shit people will take if it’s free.

Anyone for porn?

When I looked this morning several items had already been picked up and taken away - probably by drunk people making their way home in the early hours. I wish I'd been there when they woke up sober this morning and wondered why they had a broken CD rack, a tennis racquet with no strings, an outdated cable TV decoder and box full of VHS videos that someone else taped off the telly 15 years ago.

I bet they're going through them now hoping to find some porn - none of them have any labels.

Someone must want it ...?
Sadly no fucker seems to want the TV.

There’s always tonight I suppose.

Of course all this sorting out is also helping me to keep busy so I don’t stop and spend too long thinking about what’s really happening here.
I’ve joked about son leaving many times, I guess I just didn’t think that when he finally did he would be going quite so far away.

For him this is a fantastic opportunity and something I would’ve loved when I was his age - except of course when I was his age I had a one year old him to take care of.
When his job first offered this I said he should go - because I could see how excited he was at the prospect, but if I’m honest I do wish he wasn’t going.

But hey - every cloud - I can tidy up on a Monday and it will still look like that on Friday.
If I buy food it will still be there when I want to eat it and the bath will always be clean.

But who's going to do the washing up ?


Thursday, 21 April 2011

cheeky bitch

Maybe I am....?

I love smoking weed.
I’ve done to excess dabbled in other drugs but I’d happily smoke weed every day.

My three favourite things are eating, fucking and sleeping and since weed makes me hungry, horny and tired it suits me very well.

However it also makes me VERY lethargic and I have enough trouble getting up in the morning so as I am still getting used to being up on time for work I haven’t had any for about a month.
This doesn’t bother me - I’ve had longer periods of not smoking it before now, and during my previous 15 months of self imposed sabbatical I’ve smoked enough weed to knock out half of Jamaica.

I took this picture myself in Jamaica - good innit ??
 But I know myself well enough to know that if I had one joint now I’d be wanting more tomorrow and back in the land of foggy brain before I knew it.
If I'm doing anything then I do it to excess so I'm better just avoiding it for now.

Last night I had a friend pop round - she’s a weed smoker too.
She arrived and I went to put the kettle on, by the time I brought the coffee in she had a joint on the go and went to pass it to me.

I said thanks but no thanks I’m not smoking at the moment and explained why, but she kept trying to insist I should have some, that just a few puffs wouldn’t hurt.

Go on go on go on go on....
That started to piss me off - I’m not 14 - I’ve been a stoner for 30 years for fuck sake I think I know myself.

And if I say I don’t want something then I don’t fucking want it.

I don’t need the Mrs Doyle of dope trying to convince me that I do.

Then she called me hypocrite !

Fuck. Right. Off.

She was sat in my house smoking it.
I wasn’t telling her she shouldn’t.
I wasn’t saying there was anything wrong with it.
I was actually saying that I didn’t want it because I can’t just take it and leave it.
And it meant she didn’t have to share.

How the fuck does that make me a hypocrite ?
She couldn’t answer that.

Tuesday, 19 April 2011

it's all lies

Who the fuck thought up the term Global Warming ?

As a teenager I went through a punk militant phase.

I belonged to the Anti-Nazi League, went on marches against Apartheid, bought Living Marxism magazine, wore a ‘Troops Out’ T-shirt, took food parcels to the women protesting the US Missiles at Greenham Common and joined CND and Greenpeace.

And all whilst wearing Dr Marten boots and dirty hair.

I went to rallys and talks that were relevant to my new found sense of injustice and amongst these were many speakers on the subject of global warming and the state of the planet.
The people giving these talks and TV programmes I watched about it made it sound as if these were issues that were going to affect the planet in many years time.

Not likely to affect me but maybe my grandchildren or great grandchildren.
What grandchildren ? Yeah, I think Son needs to pull the proverbial finger out on that one.

Doesn't England look fab ?
It always sounded far in the future, I suppose they thought it would be.

But as is evident from the sometimes freakish and out of place weather conditions that are becoming all the more prevalent it seems that in fact these changes are occurring now.

There’s a part of me that finds this kind of exciting.
That things I thought would happen after I was long gone are occurring now.

My case is packed...beam me up !
Maybe I shouldn’t give up entirely on my plans for space travel and a transporter room in the spare bedroom just yet.

I wanted this....

However I am also a bit disappointed. Global WARMING ?… fucking arse.

I thought the implication of that meant I would get to see out my days living in a tropical country without the hassle of emigrating or having to put the cats through quarantine. And that rising sea levels meant I’d end up in a seaside apartment.

If it meant England was gonna get Caribbean temperatures then chop down all the trees I say.

I got this.....

But no, Global fucking freezing more like.

Whoever thought that name up is a fucking lying bastard.

Monday, 18 April 2011

the great depression

I wrote a post last week in which I talked about how I was feeling much better since starting my new job, and how my doctor had been saying I was suffering from depression.

Luckily for me it was a temporary thing that I knew would pass in time.

What has struck me is the number of people who have responded empathising and saying that they understood how I had been feeling all too well. Not just in the comments but I've had some very supportive private messages and also from personal friends that read my blog.
It's almost as if there is an epidemic.
If I wasn't so shit at maths I'd work out the percentage of people I know that are depressed because I think it would be quite astounding.

I believe that it's perfectly normal to experience periods in our lives when we have lows. It's necessary in order to appreciate the highs.
Yin and yang.
Without darkness would we truly enjoy the light.
There needs to be balance in all things.
Emotions - all of them, are part of what makes us human and I guess true depression is caused when there is an imbalance of experiences as well as endorphins and seratonin.
No doubt the chemical issue makes it harder for people to cope with the pitfalls of life.

I don't know.

I do think that there is a culture at the moment to cure everything with pills.
My own doctor has offered me medication more then once, I refused. Given everything that occurred in my life I would've been more concerned if I hadn't been affected in some way.
But this trend of treating the symptom rather then looking at the cause is not good. Were I to arrive at my doctors complaining of severe stomach pain she might give me something to ease the pain but I'd be sent to the hospital to see what was causing it.
It does seem that often this doesn't apply when the pain is mental.

Of course most of the adults I know who experience depression are all to aware of where the root cause of their problems lie, but I have also known young people be diagnosed as depressed and prescribed prozac without even being offered any kind of counselling to explore why or address the reason.

Personally I'd rather feel bad then feel nothing, for me that would be more worrying.
If I was numbed out on meds I might not be aware of how much better I feel now.
But it's this that tells me I was right to refuse the medication unlike true depressives who would never feel better without it.

If you look at the most common symptoms of depression how many of us have experienced at least one or two at some point in our lives ?
Quite a lot of us I bet.
Sound familiar ?

What I'm really curious about is what is going on to make so many people feel so bad.
Of course every individual is the product of the circumstances of their own life, but being a stoner the type of person who loves to ponder the bigger picture I guess I'm wondering if there isn't some kind of collective consciousness occurring here.

You will be assimilated.
Or have I just watched too many Borg episodes of Star Trek ?

Depression is a sick emotion not a physical illness, although it can manifest that way, but the core of the problem is a feeling and as empathic beings we are capable of tuning it to each others emotions.

I have cried with friends over something they have lost and felt their joy when good things happen, bawled my eyes out at a sad film and cried and cheered over a happy ending.

Unless you are made of stone I think it would be very hard to watch news footage of the worlds disasters and not feel some degree of sympathy for the victims.

Some feelings are more contagious then measles and I have known people in whose company I have felt emotionally drained after any period of time, simply because they are always on a downer.

We live in societies where people are committing atrocities against one another, in a world that is being slowly destroyed by it's inhabitants and on a planet that appears to be rebelling against us.
Is it not possible that the planets depressed ?

Perhaps those who truly experience depression as suffering are just more in tune with the state of the world.

Friday, 15 April 2011

call that holiness ???

What the fuck is it with the Catholic church.

Have just seen an item on the news about Roger Vangheluwe, a Catholic bishop accused of child sexual abuse.
Apparently the church sent him away to some retreat and said that he was receiving ‘spiritual help’, but instead this monster has been on Belgium TV talking about the assaults on two of his own nephews saying that it wasn’t abuse as the boys concerned didn’t seem to mind and pretty much trying to justify his actions by saying there was no violence involved.
It began when one of them was five years old.

No denial mind you.

And the fucking paedophile is STILL a priest.

The Catholic church in Belgium has voiced anger and disgust at the actions of Vangheluwe but the only person who can take the priesthood away from him is the pope who, according to the news, is considering the matter.
What’s to consider ?

The fuckwit is on TV, not the contemplative seclusion you sent him to, and not just admitting the offence but actually condoning his actions.

There are a lot of things that anger me about this, I’ve worked with abused children so these issues are always going to rile me.

But in this instance it’s the Church I’m taking issue with.
For the longest time the Vatican denied all the allegations made against it’s clergy and there have been plenty over the years.
But recently the pope apologised for the crimes against children committed in the past.

If he even needs to think about whether this latest loser should be excommunicated then that apology means fuck all.

inappropriate ? yeah but it's true
Personally I am not at all religious - never have been.
I was made to go to a Christian Sunday school and say prayers as a child but even then I questioned what I was being told. In my opinion religion is the cause of most wars and atrocities are committed in its name.
It divides people and nations instead of uniting them.

we're all doomed
I prefer to live my life as it comes and be a good person through conscience and moral values. I believe in Karma but I don’t think I’m going to hell because I’ve taken drugs, had plenty of sex without ever being married and can’t resist stealing the odd jar of coffee from Asda.

However I get that some people feel the need to believe in something and that’s up to them, I would neither condemn or condone another persons beliefs.

But the Catholic church is outdated, out of touch, sexist, homophobic and still harbouring monsters in its midst.

If it were any other kind of organisation it would be taken to trials, tribunals and called to account.

And the perpetrators of crimes against children would be imprisoned not sent to sanctuaries and allowed to defend themselves on public television.

culling time

Week two of work done.

I think I’m getting in the stride of this now.

I’ve been neglecting the internet although I've not missed it.
I’ve hardly looked at Facebook for the last two weeks, in fact there’s been a couple of evenings I logged in and couldn’t be bothered.
Funny how quickly you can get bored of something.
And how totally addicted some people are.

I find it odd that I’ve had inbox messages on FB asking if I’m OK. My real friends know where and how I am. Surely if a person isn’t online that means they are busy in the real world, getting on with life and therefore more then fine.
Whereas logically if they were forever on in the daytime that would mean they were stuck at home and more likely to be unwell.

Whilst I admit Facebook does keep me in touch with some people that I would otherwise have no contact with, I think for a lot of people it’s become more real then the world outside their front doors. Do they prefer chatting via msn to actual conversation. Is staying in on the computer the new going out ?
Not in my world.

I think a friend cull is in order.
Funny how spending time away from something enables you to see it through different eyes.
Who the fuck are these boring cunts who think it’s interesting to post hourly updates of their fucking boring every day activities.
And why the fuck are they on my list.

Do I care that you’re hungry/ tired/have a cold/ got wind/ had a cheese sandwich/ sat on the bus ?

Fuck off and get a life, take some pictures (and not of your kid dribbling or your dog in the park) and I might be bothered to look.

It's full of idiots and stupid people and they annoy the crap out of me.
I have just seen a perfect example of this :

Thick Bird’s Status : “you think you’re clever posting status about me and hiding behind facebook - you know who you are and if you’ve got something to say about me say it to my face”

Me : “can you not see the hypocrisy in writing that here Thick Bird”

Thick Bird : “Eh ?”

Thick Bird : “I’m pissed of with XXXX she keeps writing stuff about me on here”

Me : “Exactly”

Thick Bird : “What do you mean Cowgirl, and why haven't you been on here lately”

I’ve logged out.
I can’t even be bothered to fuck with her head.
She’s on the cull list.

Monday, 11 April 2011

le racisme, à la française

So I see the French are at it again.

As of today Muslim women are banned from wearing the burqa in public in France.

Break this law and you will get a 150 Euro fine.
Force someone else to wear one and you get a 30.000 Euro fine and a year in jail, this part at least might be a good thing as it might stop the instances that one does hear about where a man mistreats a woman and no-one sees.

But this is France and this law has nothing to do with womens rights.

Since wearing the burqa has religious symbolism to most of those that choose to do so surely banning it is in fact a form of discrimination.

France has already banned the wearing of headscarves in schools since 2004.
How would French Catholics feel if they were told they could no longer wear a crucifix or carry rosary beads ? I’m sure they would say that it’s not the same thing but to those who wear a burqa it means as much.

Many Moslem women oppose the wearing of the burqa but equally many choose to cover themselves.
But that should be their choice based upon what they know about their own culture and not for the white French government to decide.
Or to use as a political issue in the run up to their presidential elections next year.

The official line is that concealing your face undermines France's common values, and is inconsistent with the Republic's principles of liberty, equality and human dignity.
So what about the freedom to practise your chosen religion and be treated equally and fairly regardless of faith ?
Where’s the dignity in being forced to expose any part of your body that you prefer to keep covered ?
It’s just another example of the racism that is all too prevalent in French society.

And a rather underhand way of minimising the numbers of Moslem people wanting to emigrate there.
Why anyone would want to live there is beyond me anyway.

There are arguments for this latest piece of bigotry - the same old reasons that get bandied about all the time around public safety. That militants can hide bombs under their clothing and that it makes it impossible to identify people on security cameras.

So are they going to ban people from carrying rucksacks ? I was under the impression that they were the suicide bombers preferred method for transportation.
Surely if anything that makes it difficult to identify a person is unacceptable then they should also ban the sale of wigs, make-up and long dresses, bar men from growing facial hair and maybe wearing peaked caps ?
What about nuns ?

There was a case in the UK where a teacher was fired for refusing to remove her veil when men were present. I can understand the reasons behind this and the requirement to have a visible face for certain types of employment. But it’s acceptable for employers to have dress codes so one would assume that anyone who felt it important to keep covered at all times would not opt to work in a place where the code didn’t allow it.
Just as we can choose to not go to clubs that say no jeans or trainers.

I can see that when it comes to checking passports or legal situations it might be necessary to uncover but there are way that this could be done whilst respecting the dignity of those involved. It’s not that different to my having the right to see a female doctor or if I needed to be searched having that carried out by another woman.

But when it comes to our leisure time surely it’s a matter of personal choice and freedoms ?

If it’s ok to walk about wearing next to nothing why is it not also ok to keep yourself covered ?

For Moslem women keeping covered is also about morals and modesty, things which might not mean much to the French, but without their garments these women would feel naked in public.

Perhaps the French politicians who have brought in this law should be made to walk around with their bollocks hanging out for a day.
See how that makes them feel.

Sunday, 10 April 2011

green eyed bitches

The sun has been shining here this week and the other day as I was waiting for my train there was a young girl on the platform wearing a pair of shorts and a small crop top.

She was very pretty, tanned, long blonde hair - probably the kind of person that gets noticed even when she’s wearing proper clothes never mind stripped off for the sun.

I got on my train and could hear a couple of girls sat a few seats behind me talking about her.
They were being very derogatory about what she was wearing and also being judgemental about her, deciding that she was definitely a slut.
Admittedly she was dressed more for the beach then a train, but these were not the kind of shorts that are so short you can see a persons bum cheeks nor were they tight, and although the top she had on was small she was very slim and not at all busty so it wasn’t revealing.

When I stood to get off the train the bitchy pair got up as well.

So I had a look at them.

Neither of them were exactly slim or attractive.
That’s not me being bitchy - if I was going to do that then they were probably what I’d call moosey and fat.
Well actually that’s me being honest.

But clearly the comments towards the blonde girl were the result of jealousy because if either of them were to wear what she had they would most likely be laughed at.

Of course what the two behind me were saying and what they were thinking were two completely different things,
  • “oh my god what is she wearing” = “I wish I wasn’t an overweight pig”
  • “she must be a right slut” = “no-one wants to have sex with me”
  • “how the fuck can she walk around like that” = “ I wish I could walk more then 10 yards without wheezing”

I think the gorgeous blonde girl had the last laugh, even though she didn’t know it.

But as I was walking up the steps on the platform behind the other two and seeing the size of their arses so did I.

Saturday, 9 April 2011

new me

Onwards and Upwards.

I started my new job on Monday and am very happy to report that I was only late once, and even then just by half an hour. Not bad going for someone who has been nocturnal for the last year.

I am a carer/companion for a friends husband who has a brain injury, but since much of this entails just being there we have agreed that there will be flexibility around times, so although essentially I’ll be working 10 - 5 every day if I am needed to stay later for some reason it's fine by me, as my friend is well aware that I'm likely to take a while to get back into a proper routine.

This week has been great, the man I’m working with does remember me from before he had his injury, which is quite remarkable - and since Wednesday we have had bright sunshine so I have been sat in the garden chatting with him for most of the time.
His family, children and two grandchildren all live in the house which is huge, the reason I am there is because his wife looks after the granddaughters whilst their mothers and partners work and also child minds another so she cannot be watching him too. He is physically very able, although can get tired easily, but is forgetful so for example might start to cook something, get distracted and leave a pan on.

But I have had a lovely week sitting in the sun, occasionally helping out with the children and socialising, it hasn’t really felt like work at all.

He loves history, so I will also be accompanying him for days out to places that interest him - as I love visiting museums myself that’s hardly going to be work. This town has a lot of naval history so there are lots of places of interest and as most of his problems relate to his memory it doesn’t matter if we go to the same places more then once, this may in fact help him. I want to give him time to feel comfortable with me but hopefully in the next week or two we will begin going out.

The biggest deal for me though is how much better I feel in myself.

I knew that I was in a bit of a rut, there have been days when I have needed to get up and go shopping and I just haven’t been able to. I really cannot describe how I was feeling, I tried to explain a few times to friends but just didn’t have the words. I think perhaps it was not too far from agoraphobia, the difference being that I could go out and wasn’t suffering from panic attacks if I did, but making the effort to leave the house took a lot of willpower.
I felt as if I didn’t have the strength for anything.
I called it extreme lethargy - but about everything, even jobs around the house seemed to require too much effort at times.

I had been dreading Monday morning but when it got here I was awake before the alarm went off and left the house with none of the strange feelings I’d previously had.

My doctor has been telling me I’m suffering from depression, and whilst I think anyone who had experienced the things I had in the year prior to my leaving work would be at a low point, I never thought that I was ill in the same way that some depressives are. I certainly wasn’t going to take any medication and considering how I’m feeling right now, just from getting back into the real world, I know I was right not to do so.

I’ve been saying for some time that I needed the proverbial kick up the arse and I think this last week I got it.

The other downside of doing nothing for so long is that I have also managed to pile on the pounds - looking through my clothes to sort out things to wear to work was a bit of a nasty shock.
There are too many things that don’t fit.

However although my friend is happy to pick me up from the train station in the morning I am going to walk to the house some days, it’s 30 mins and mostly uphill, I’ve done that twice this week.
Once I can walk it without feeling like I’m having a heart attack then I plan to take my bike, at the moment I have a feeling that if I did that it would take me longer to ride then it does to walk.
But I am determined to do it eventually.

This is without doubt the beginning of a new me, back in the world of work but a far less stressful one then the one I left 16 months ago, and it feels good to be there.

Sunday, 3 April 2011

love thy neighbour

I fucking hate the fucking noisy cunts that live next door.
Today was my last chance for a lie in until next Saturday and they woke me up at 9am having an argument.


She is one whiny whingy stupid bitch.
I don’t agree with men hitting women ever, but I’m quite prepared to go round there and stick my fist in her face for him.
You might be inclined to say there’s two sides to every story but I hear every fucking thing she says - well screeches - at him so I KNOW it’s all down to her.
He’s a right wimp and he seriously needs to grow some bollocks.

Usually they start at night after they’ve had a drink, one night they were arguing from about 11pm until 4 in the morning when he eventually left the house. Then the fucking loser was sat on my front wall talking to her on the phone, I opened the door and told him to shut the fuck up.

During that row I must of heard him say “tell me what I’ve done” about 30 times.
Was very tempted to knock the door and ask her myself so that I could tell him and they could both be quiet or at least I’d know why I felt like I was living in Beirut.

If they start yelling at night when they’re in their bedroom and I’m in mine I stick my stereo on and treat them to Cowgirls Techno Favourites…Loudly.
And when they stop shouting I turn it down for 15 minutes (just long enough for them to start to sleep) and then I turn it up again.

I can keep that up for longer then any of their pathetic rows.

One night I did that - after listening to her scream at him for an hour - and one of the cheeky cunts banged the wall.
I went downstairs and got sons drum'n'bass CD and stuck that on.
Didn’t bother me, I had Snow Patrol playing in my headphones.

Son says she sounds like Linda Blair in the exorcist.
They’re both in their early twenties and chat to son so I told him to ask the fella if her head spins round when they’re arguing.
I prefer to ignore them, it’s better for them that way.

But the day is coming when she’ll be outside her door as I’m coming in or going out and she’s gonna ask me how I am and I’m not very good at restraining myself…….
And then I’m likely to show her how to really shout.

They also have two dogs, one of whom will bark at any fucking noise when they’re out, and I occasionally have to listen to them shagging.
The happy couple that is, not the dogs.


Luckily the sex, unlike the arguments, only lasts for about twenty minutes.
I cant help thinking there’s a connection there.
I’m very tempted to point out to him that if he could make that last a bit longer she might stay in a better mood for longer too.
But then I’d have to listen to it. Maybe I should suggest that men can improve their stamina by having sex in the kitchen.
He’s thick as shit he’d most likely believe it.

Apparently today’s disturbance started as he found her crying in the bath because they haven’t had sex for three weeks.

I know - it’s been bliss this side of the wall.

She thinks he doesn’t love her any more, quite frankly I don’t fucking blame him.

Even I can tell that neither of them are happy, but they’re young, they have no kids so I wonder why they even stay together.
I’m pretty certain if they didn’t have arguments she’d have nothing to talk about on the phone to her Mum, because I can hear her doing that too sometimes
I reckon they must like being fucking miserable.

Either that or they’re both masochists and if so I really hope they don’t decide to take that to the next level. If I have to sit here and listen to those kind of practises through the walls I’m calling the fucking noise pollution people.

Love thy neighbour ?
Not when they’re fucking inconsiderate morons I don’t.

Rant over. Thankyou for listening.

change is good

Monday morning 10am and I am back in the real world.
New job begins.

Not entirely sure how I feel about that.
A mixture of emotions really, because I am really looking forward to getting back into the real world and I know I’m going to love this job but it will be strange after so long.
Has to be done though and I know that I am very lucky to be given this opportunity.

I’ve always believed in Karma and it was definitely smiling on me for this one.

It’s going to be strange too going from all my time pretty much being free time to just having week-ends off. Was thinking about this yesterday and found myself wondering when I’m gonna find the time to get my legs waxed.
Good to know I have my priorities in order.
Not Saturdays that’s for sure - if there’s only two days a week I can have a lie in don’t be expecting me to surface before at least 3pm.

It’s not like my last job which involved being out in the community a lot of the time going from one meeting to another or promoting the service. It was quite easy with travel time to arrange 45 mins here and there if I needed to do something for myself. Or book an hour and a half to meet with one of the kids that I knew would only stay with me for half an hour then leave.
Sometimes my boss and I told the manager we were going on outreach then went to Asda and did our shopping.

Good job he can't see this, I might need a reference.

Working from home was always good too.
We were allowed to do this if we had admin work to do, writing up reports and the like as our office was always busy and sometimes not the best place to concentrate. Every couple of weeks I’d book myself out for Friday when in fact I had already done all the write ups.
Then have a long lie in and spend an hour in the afternoon putting the work on the database.
Yeah those were the days.

Change is good though.

It’s much needed in my case, and there’s other areas of my life that could do with a re-vamp and I think sorting one might just spur me on with the others too.

People do seem to be scared of change.
Sometimes it can be a bad thing but certainly not always, and even when it seems bad it can work out for the better in the long run.

I guess it's fine if you're the one deciding to do it, but when it's imposed upon you by someone else there's that whole thing about losing control to deal with as well.
Everyone has an element of the control freak.

It always amuses me to see how people react to change - even to small things, for instance every time facebook alter their layout you get 3455 groups saying the old one was better, then six months later they update it again and those same people don’t like that.

It’s not really the end result of the change they don’t like it’s the act of changing itself.

I’m old enough to remember the public outrage when it was decided that the UK was switching to decimal currency, the same thing happens when ever it’s suggested that we adopt the Euro now.
But I bet these same people that worry about it and how they would cope if we did get by perfectly well when they go on holiday and have to use a different currency - and probably a lot of times it’s the very same Euro they're so scared of having to manage at home.

So anyways as of next week it’s out with the old and in with the new for me.

If nothing else not being able to sit up all night on the computer is probably going to save on the electricity bills.

Bring it on.
I'm not scared.

Saturday, 2 April 2011

a very short story

Just seen a post that reminded me of this and I do like to share....

A very long time ago when son was about seven he had a collection of items bought from a joke shop.

His favourite thing was the paper mache fake poo.

He liked to leave it on the bathroom floor, so people would see it and think we had done it  - well that I had done it - embarassing me was the highlight of his week. Then. Nowadays those tables have turned.
But this particular day a few of his friends had been in our house.

After his friends left I went into the bathroom and happened to see this grey looking stuff in the toilet, it puzzled me but on closer inspection looked a bit like newspaper, then I realised that the paper mache poo was no longer on the floor.
I told son he shouldn't have put it in the loo as it might've blocked it.
He assured me he hadn't.

We never did find out which of his friends thought they were the one that had the accident...

Friday, 1 April 2011

beggars can't be choosers

Sometimes I see things that make me angry.

Today I saw a couple of kids, they were maybe 13/14 laughing at a homeless person.
The guy was sat on the pavement outside a shop. I’ve seen him there quite often, he’s fairly young and whilst he never appears drunk his eyes tell me he has an addiction.

He wasn’t troubling anyone, just asking passers by if they could spare any change. He’s not aggressive and as he’s seated people walking past can easily ignore him.
They do.
At first as I was approaching I thought these kids might’ve been talking to him but as I got closer I could hear what they were saying.

The homeless guy was trying to ignore them.
No doubt if he’d said what he wanted to someone would’ve gotten involved and stuck up for the kids and quite possibly the shop he sits outside would move him on.
Of course I don’t have to worry about any such thing so I asked them what they were doing.

Apparently the homeless guys trainers were ‘crap’, he smelt and was dirty.
And what did it have to do with me ? and why didn’t I just fuck off ?

Nothing. But no, I don’t think I will.

I don’t profess to know which particular brand of trainer are considered fashion this week, but I asked them if they thought that maybe someone who was forced to beg in order to survive didn’t have more important things to worry about then the latest footwear.
Then I gave them a five minute lecture.
And then I asked them if they knew what the time was, one of them told me it was 1.30 so I suggested they get to school which was after all where they should be at that time of the day.
Except I wasn’t that polite.

We don’t have a vast amount of homeless people in this town, there are a couple of charity run shelters that help them. And this guy may not even be homeless, but if he is claiming benefits he might get help with rent and a small amount to live on, but it’s not enough to fund a heroin addiction.
I’m not condoning him for being an addict but who am I to judge anyway.
There could be many reasons why his life has ended up the way it has.

It takes a fair amount of desperation and I imagine courage too to put yourself in a situation where you are likely to be subjected to verbal abuse and run the risk of physical assualt on a daily basis.

Personally I don’t care what anyone says you have to be in a position where you have no other option. except perhaps stealing, to resort to begging on the streets.

I’ve heard the stories about beggars who make decent money doing so, perhaps they do in some towns, London maybe or other big cities but not here.
Whilst a lot of people in that situation do have substance issues it’s not true of all, sometimes I think they end up using as a means of escape from the situation they’re in, and you can end up homeless for many reasons.
I have heard plenty of people say that they would never give money to a beggar because most of them aren’t really homeless and they are only going to spend it on alcohol or drugs.

A couple of years ago I was coming home from work and this day we’d had a party for the kids as it was just before Christmas. There was some food left over, nothing much, some sausage rolls, a few sandwiches and other party snacks and I was taking it home rather then waste it.
As I was coming out of the station there was a couple sat begging.
I don’t ignore anyone, even if all I say is sorry I have no cash I think at least I’m acknowledging they’re there and not invisible.
So I said to these people that I didn’t have any money but I had this bag of food which they could have. They were so grateful, it really took me by surprise and kinda proves the point that not all are begging for money to fund habits.
Sometimes they just need what you and I take for granted.

I often saw them there after that and they never asked me for money but they always said hello.
More then once I gave them my lunch.

I know that there are young people out there who choose to live on the streets because it’s preferable to living at home, and when you’re a 14 year old whose run away you can’t claim benefits or go to an adult shelter. If you’re lucky you’ll find your way to social services, or they’ll find you, but there are still young people who fall through the net and end up involved in very bad situations.
Some don’t want to speak to social services because they are afraid they will be forced to return home or that they will have to prosecute their harmer.
Bearing in mind they’re already scared before they run some would rather take their chances on the street.

I don’t make a habit of giving money to beggars, I tend not to have much cash on me anyway - who does when you can pay for pretty much anything by card, I gave that guy some money today though.

I buy the Big Issue - it’s actually a good read and not full of adverts or crap about celebrities like most magazines.
And I make a monthly donation to Barnados as they work with kids and that’s an issue that matters to me personally.

It’s not a lot and it doesn’t make me a saint but it does help.

Seriously I think there’s something very wrong when a govenrnent spends millions on the defence budget yet charities have to beg for money.

And if you ask me the definition of obscene is the queen living in Buckingham Palace which has over SIX HUNDRED rooms.
When just down the road there are people living in cardboard boxes.