Who knew?

Am just about exiting, cogitating but hardly living.

When it comes to sleep my mind is playing the moody child and not letting the rest of my body anyway leeway when it comes to rest, too active going over everything that’s been and may come. My body is numb and tingly, tired and wanting to rest but upstairs says no go. This leads me to being awake till 6 or 7, trying hard to keep awake to snap the routine but with the dark and cold mornings and the sudden onset of a tired body this is getting near impossible. So I end up with patches of sleep leaving me out of it early morning onwards, sometimes till about 5pm. Today was particularly bad as I dreamt about her. A nice dream of sorts too but a dream within a dream where I recognised the first one, me and her in a car just being close and then me in my room  breaking down. Again I woke myself up with moans and sobs. Thoughts of her kept filtering through making my guts twirl and tighten and my head spin. Oh dear, whatever am I gonna do? Money is disappearing fast and I have only fears to keep me company. I’ve wondered lately if I’m bipolar. This I broached to my Doctor who said it wasn’t what he got from me, the way I act etc. What he did do was up my meds, so it’s now 40mgs of the next generation citalapram. The effects are a bit mad, dizziness, twitchy muscles, insomnia, hypersomnia. The first week, nowt much aside from odd sleeping patterns, nowt new there! But at the moment it’s not too bad, not brilliant but not awful, a pinprick in the thick cloud of maudling from before. The duvet still seems like my bomb, cereal killer, life proof shield that it has seemed this year but I am slowly getting out, early morning gym visits especially on a Sunday.

The only downside is that a girl I was seeing, another one who I shall call M, and going out with since July has decided to end it with me. This was a blow as I liked her a fair old bit and despite my outpourings of fondness for her she wants away. It shouldn’t have been a surprise really, I mean, look at what my former did and we were married! Still, maybe that’s being unfair. M was previously married and perhaps didn’t want to be tied down and panicked at my closeness. Still, it hurt as I really liked her. Plus sides, the divorce is now through and so is my new name. Small things but compared to before it’s something small or not. So it truly is over and now I have to try and pick up the ground up pieces of my life and assemble it back together. Or maybe assemble something new back together? Something that’s still me but new, if that makes sense?

Only P!nk can save me now!

Hulk like strongness award thingy

As previously mentioned an award from the lovely sherberty Halway to the Gutter and the Stars

The Rules of this here awardy thingy:

1. Make sure to add in the above text and image (above) to spread the love and add how little or how much you want! 2. Name your diagnoses – Stand loud and proud! You can tell us a little about them also if you’d like. How you’re affected by these diagnoses and how you are fighting your way out of them. 3. Add a photo of yourself, or some abstract picture that represents you, anything you like! 4. Send this on to as many, yes, as many, people that you like. It can be five, ten, fifty.


Depression for me. Some days I can exist, just, other days I manage to cogitate in bed, wondering what the hell went wrong and why I cant get out of this bloody slump. It remains a mix of too much sleep, too little sleep, self loathing, general fear and setting yourself up to fall on numerous occasions. 
That is depression. For me anyhow. Fighting my way out? Hmmm, not yet. Not consciously anyway.

Here be a pic, not of me but of that D:Ream dude, Prof' Cox. 
Represents me as its a figure gawping in awe at the stars which is what I do. 
Either that or my head is somewhere up there.

Thank God for him!

Lightish reading

For horror fans and even some non-horror fans.
Some good reading and reviewing here.

Horror Digest

Rain when I die

The day I tried to end my life is the day where I’d reached a bit more of the bottom than I thought I’d already hit. They say when someone reaches that point and tries to top themselves it’s either after a lot of planning or a flash impulse ‘do it’ mentality. Mine was mostly the latter. As you can tell it didn’t work otherwise I wouldn’t be writing this.

The day had been ok, a bit sleepy but nothing out of the ordinary. Then in the afternoon I received a text from my soon to be former wife. In it she said she had finished the weekend activity and was coming up with something for me. Now previous to this I’d last heard from her back in May and also through the divorcey legal court paperwork that has been trickling through the post box since June. So it was quite the surprise. I knew she wouldn’t come into the house so clothed myself all the while wondering what it was she was coming up to give me. I then went outside to see the old familiar car with its distinctive license plate and her tapping out a text obviously saying that she was now ‘here’.

She saw me and got out and told me what had happened over the weekend. Me being me, stupidly, I went along with the pointless small chit chat, although I dumbstruck at what was happening. She then handed me a bag. In it, she said, was a memory stick of my stuff, pics, etc from the shared computer.

A little bit more chit chat and then she was gone. As I left I cursed myself inwardly, why didn’t you say something? Anything? Something. 
The times I’d done similar in my dreams, wanting to ask her, ‘Are we talking now?’ and, ‘you’ve left me so bereft, why?’ and various other questions. Why didn’t I say something? Deep down I know why. It was because I had very little time to even think of something, anything to say to her. The moment between text and arrival was 5 minutes, which gave me no time whatsoever. Still, I wish I’d said something. I did eventually but more of that later.

I got back to the house and opened up the bag. I saw the memory stick and a photo album.

’Oh,’ thinks me. ‘She must have printed up the photos, how kind.’

I opened it up and found that no, she hadn’t. She’d given me the wedding album. Our wedding album. Stripped of the photos she either wanted or deemed me not suitable to have. But the rest were there, us cutting the cake, signing the registrar. The lot.

I took to bed, wondering why she’d given it to me despite me telling her clearly that I didn’t want it before our parting from our house.

Confusion and hurt reigned. Until about an hour later, watching the rain fall and listening to some Alice in Chains I decided to do it. Everything else that usually stopped me didn’t matter at that point. It felt like it was all for nowt. So nuts to it, I thought. I’m going to do it. The thought of it and where I was going to do it kinda calmed me in an odd way but also, paradoxically, it exhilarated me too.

Off I went, taking some kitchen roll with me, my usual SI tool of choice and a photo of me and her cutting the wedding cake. I stomped up the hill, feeling my heart race, looking at the greenness of the long grass. I stood on top, heart beating fast, thinking how things had led me this way, how deep deep down I always knew it would end this way. I looked around, there were too many dog walkers so I moved off, walking towards the cemetery, annoyed the rain had stopped. At the cemetery I found what relatives I could, my nan etc, and said sorry. Sorry for being a mess of a man and sorry for what I felt like I was about to do.

More wandering as the rain began to fall, looking for places to go and hide, trying to work out what would happen if I got locked in the cemetery, trying not to trap myself in case after I did it and I freaked out and panicked. So after looking at some nature run around, fox, hares (Blimey, they’re big!), I walked towards an area I knew as kid, down a dark lane towards some woods and fields.

Looking back on it the funny thing is I wasn’t sure about walking down the dark lane as I thought I might get run over by a car. Odd eh?

So I wandered down until I found a field away from sight and climbed over into long grass and in my very inconspicuous Great War style coat sat down. I looked at the photo of us and then checked my mobile, missed calls and texts flashed at me. I then led down and nodded off glad to feel the rain fall on my face at last. I think I nodded off and then woke up and after again looking at the photo and leaving a post on Facebook, (Nothing too explicit but more something that alluded to my state of mind) I tried to cut. Thing is it was too dark so I had to use my phone to illuminate my wrist and then it was too tense so I had to relax it to lower the tendons and then the phone went out and blimey, it was awkward. Eventually I cut a bit but nothing damaging. Annoyed I got up and walked back to the hill  that I’d visited earlier, keen to feel wet and cold, walking through the long grass and through bushes and trees along the way. At the hill I stood there and tried again, taunting myself, annoyed that I couldn’t even get it right. I slashed away but not nearly hard enough, thinking it’d be easy to cut, a few cuts and scratches on my wrist at least now visible to me. I slumped to the grass and wondered why I couldn’t do it porperly. I then stumbled to the bottom and went home where I told my mum that I needed help.

After a cup of tea and a muffin, I hadn’t really eaten that day, I was taken up A and E. and whilst waiting my dad had called my auntie and uncle. They were there and at one point my uncle leaned over me and asked if I had pains in the head. I mean, blimey!

After that it was a case of seeing about 5 different med’ types. The crisis team came and went at one point because they didn’t have enough information but eventually returned to discharge me but follow up with a visit on the Tues and me making an appointment with the GP on Monday. I felt a little bit better after been listened to and treated nicely and calmly.

At then, well then I went home, the rain belting down. And me in a state of confusion. I really wanted to be admitted but knew the chances were slim unless I went there with an open wrist wound. It was the early hours and by the time I nodded off I woke up feeling… odd. Almost as if I wasn’t sure if I belonged and where to now?

It’s something I’m still in the middle of. The strongest return of those feelings from Sunday came yesterday whilst out running in the rain. A walk to the cemetery seemed to stall them though.

I texted my former regarding the album and a few other messages of things I wanted to get out, nothing nasty but I put my side down. Responses have been few. Now I suppose I wait until the last bit of the divorce comes through.

Now it’s the aftermath. Or is that recovery? I’m not sure yet.

down in a hole and I don't know if I can be saved

The river runs red and I think I'm dying

Sometimes...

"Sometimes it happens feelings die
Whole years are lost in the blink of an eye
We once had it all but event conspired
Sometimes
Now that it's over, it is through
It gets me everytime I think of you
Sometimes it happens, feelings die
Sometimes

I miss your warm skin, beside me at night
I miss your flesh, in the dawn light
Sometimes, sometimes
Sometimes, sometimes"

Updated on updates?

If you'd like such a thing, scroll down to the very bottom and find a link to updatedness!

The Boot

So where was I? Numbness, cogitation? Ah yes, back to that again.

It’s been a right old mixed bag of naffness recently tied up with ok-ness. I’ve managed to get some things done and have actually gotten out of the house to the gym, to the odd interview and to my activity that sometimes my former shows up to as well. On that point, she’ll be there this coming weekend. Not good and something I’m trying not to think about but hey ho. Recently this other activity has allowed me to open up to my friends there and get a bit boozy and teary with some of them too. Moments of closeness were had as on 2 occasions I opened up during a chat that was spiked with alcohol and a feeling of just letting go and not holding back as I told a few why I hadn’t been in lately.

I have also tried my hand at flirting and the such like. I know I’ve mentioned T before and I’m still seeing her but relationship wise I’m fine with casual. It has to be that way and she is ok with it. Hence it also gives me a chance to try my hand at chatting, flirting and sometimes dancing. Sometimes badly. It was fun though and although obviously out of practise, how do you proclaim you intentions without being so flippin’ obvious? it was good fun.

Monday wasn’t the best but I did manage to get some controlled dreaming from it. I pretty much controlled it from content to persons involved and had once moment where I decided to do what I want by shouting curse words?! Odd but kind of fun. The best bit was asking why certain people in had changed their appearance and then having them change right back to how I first saw them. I then also asked a person who was very nice in my dream, Disney nice, why I couldn’t be. Failing to realise I was essentially asking myself. And then yesterday it all went wrong as I dreamed about her. I asked her over and over again why she wouldn’t talk to me, why we couldn’t sort it out only to be faced with silence and a tiny smile. This went on until I broke down in my dream.

A bright and breezy opening for me eh? Now ? Now it’s back to normal. Today I’m in an odd state of being, kind of out of it but still in it. The old feeling of looking in, being an observer of life rather than partaking in it. My head feels as though it’s been laid with crushed velvet and I feel as low as I have ever done. All I keep thinking about is her. What I did wrong previously, why my black had to come and spoil everything, why I made her cry at times and how much I’ll miss her and the things we did together. A jumbled mess like a bowl of Neapolitan ice-cream all mixed and mashed up together with the darker colour winning out, just like now.

Over and over again like a dvd on loop I see her, tears falling, the sound she made when she cried, in my mind’s eye until it garners an inner reaction from my gut. I know it’s affected me as my usual activities matter not a jot, gym, writing etc. I can barely move, preferring to hug myself on the bed with my usual tunes blaring out. The urge to find a dark corner and disappear is strong as is the urge to SI.

Silly old me didn’t help himself at the weekend though by boozing. Not heavily but enough to make sure the bill was paid later on. This however is extra, the black and my inner self taking advantage, its mental boot hovering over my inner self ready to drop and push me down at a moments notice.

Maybe they should call if the black boot of depression? Because that’s what it feels like sometimes, one big boot ready to smash you down whenever it wants. Black dog is too benign for me, it suggests a sort of innocence and right now this feels anything but innocent. Oh my days will it ever end?

SI or scoffing some white choc’ with tea? Ahh nuts to it. 

Sweet melted choc' will at least give a little lift.

... just to see one of your smiles

There's no escape...

The last couple of days for some reason have been hard. My mind will not let go. I watched a programme called ‘The entire history of you’ the other day. In it there was technology whereby you could record your life, memories and everything around you, your entire history basically. By the end the main characters relationship had broken down and he found himself rewinding and going over older happier memories in his by now empty house. This was too much and he ended up removing it from his head. This affected me a bit as it’s something I’m doing sans the memory device that can be removed. It seems to be creeping in a fair old bit lately. Thurs was one as I revisited my former surroundings back when I was married. On an aside I also miss that home and part of me is sad that I’m away from it. Maybe one day…

Yesterday was bad for it and left me as listless as ever as my mind went over us over and over again. Apparently during the final move back I told my mum that nothing mattered as it was all my fault. I don’t recall saying this but it sort of makes sense. If I hadn’t had the black maybe…. Hmmm. Who can tell eh? It breaks me up that my former had neither the will nor the inclination to hold it out with me despite telling me that we’d get through it together. So here I now sit with only a mix of memories, Pink! Playing and a feeling of numbness that is gently sapping my energy and will to do anything other than cogitate and exist. Just.

This world is hard, it's cold, it's agony

Hurt

I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real
The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything

What have I become?
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know
Goes away in the end
You could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

2 steps forward...

...and then a s%$!-load back.
Lack of sleep left me dazed and confused today. Not a big problem as I've done no sleep before. But my appointment today led to me to my old marriage living type area, which was nice on the one hand but odd on the other. I now know the true meaning of ghosts. More on the lack of appointment later but as I travelled around my old shopping spots and walking areas and the house memories and experiences came filtering in. An argument for no apparent reason near the supermarket, her quest to find the ladies quickly! a tour around the new big supermarket that was bigger than the one we used to shop in, splitting up to tackle each aisle and get the shop done more efficiently. I always enjoyed shopping with my former. She saw it as mundane but I saw it as a little trip seeing what we both liked, deciding on  foods and household implements. I would always catch her by the pick'n mix, filling a bag and looking at me with a guilty face. Odd memories but happy ones.
I met up with an old friend instead and told her at times I find it difficult to comprehend how I got here. It's like I'm playing snakes and ladders for real. One minute happy with new life and wife and the next I've gone back seven odd years to now. No wonder I feel so dizzy and out of it sometimes. Mind you, that could be the anti-d's.
So yes, the appointment. I got lost, couldn't find the venue, was late and decided instead of facing the shame of being late, sacked it with an excuse. Those who have read Hyperbole and a Half will get this next bit. I felt emotionless about doing it. Usually I'd stress and think it over and over pushing myself to scrap it and then when I had punishing myself for it. This time, I wasn't bothered. It's not like I'd have been missed anyway so nuts to it. This was my six horror movies and multiple packs of sweeties moment in the video store.
What came out of it all? A nice chat with an old friend, a shop for old times sake, some coffee and an odd weird dreaming sleep when I got home. 
Oh, and a call from a tea shop saying my custom made tea-cosy was in for collection.

I try to walk in a straight line

I had the oddest and not the nicest dream ever last night. It involved Steven Gerrard (not a fan of him or his team) and my wife, not like that you filthy dogs! Anyhow, for some reason I was wearing a t-shirt with his face on it to a dinner that he was attending and wearing a suit jacket over it, odd. Even odder was my Aunty suddenly appearing and telling me after I took my jacket off how silly it was of me to wear it when she knew I wasn't a fan. Anyway, Gerrard was ok with me and then cool with me. During all of this my former made an appearance and she sort of spoke to me and I spoke back saying, oh so you're talking to me then?
After that, I can't recall what I said but I know by the tone and the result I wasn't nice to her. I think my brain threw all of the subconscious thoughts and feelings I had/have in the form of questions at her which resulted in her leaving in floods of tears. not long after that, she died! And then I nearly did when Gerrard tried to kill me in  a mobile scooter accident we were both in. Blimey O!
I awoke feeling very odd indeed and a bit sad too. I never did like seeing her cry or sad though it seemed to happen during our time together. That is the one face of hers that my  mind keeps conjuring up too, her being in pain or crying. It pops up now and again as if to torture me somehow. Hmm.
The song with the link below featured in my dream and I think kick started it as I listened to it before bed, well, before bed at half 2 in the am. It was one of her favs and one we sang along to when we saw them last year. Played it today and heard it on the radio this evening. Seemed kind apt.
My mum asked if I believed it could happen and I said, no but that wasn't the point. It was the feeling it left behind this morning. 
Why does my mind seemingly hate me?
Feeling tired which is good as I'm up early tomorrow for an appointment.
We shall see if I sleep or it's another all nighter.

I wish I had a bottle

I get knocked down

I managed to do most of what I wanted last week after the no sleep all nighter. It got hard but it was done. It sort of sorted my sleeping but not that much as Thurs night I struggled again and I had to be up early too. Nevermind though. So on the Thurs night of me being away I tried to sleep whilst feeling so down and so sad. Oh my, I felt so intensely sad and I wasn't sure why. It was like a mash of various downers had come together like a load of mashed up skittles, multi coloured and hard to discern what is what. I stayed laying down wondering what to do, should I get up and wander, read? In the end I texted T. She was nice enough and tad worried and then my phone started to fade out. Damn battery. That's the trouble with camping out sometime, a lack of modern amenities. Or maybe that's the point? Hmmm. Still, aside from that and a moment where I had to sit out on my own looking in as the group yakked it up and laughed away it was a good time away. I even got to see some of the air-show. I love air-shows. Seeing all those aircraft cutting around the sky, wonderful.
Sleeping it still a bit odd and patchy but kind of better. The odd thing mostly is me waking up feeling so tired, my body feels like I haven't slept in years, all fuzzy and light. Sometimes it can mess up my entire day. I'm trying to get a hold on it but some days...

For Halfway...

Dedicated to your good self... this!

I can't get no....

....ssleeeeeeppp.
So I'm trying an old tricky that sometimes works but is hard on the mind and body especially if not kept busy. But tomorrow or er... today, early this morning even, I will be hopefully.
Debates on YouTube involving Hitchens, Fry and Dawkins and trying to learn Italian with a coffee are helping but saying that I had so much kip today...erm...yesterday? that it's not too difficult. 
Plus it's kept my chattering mind shut for the time being and I get to see the break of dawn, always so peaceful and calm.
This could be a long old day. 
We shall see.

Every post is exactly the same

So many plans, so many thoughts. All of them came to nil points.
My plan was to awake early, run, gym it and get things done. Things done? Sod all.
Sleeping done however, lots and lots. I just wanted to sleep and let the world disappear around me as I folded in on my own consciousnesses. It probably didn't help that lat night I felt odd and anxious, rereading my divorce paper didn't help. An odd dream/vision of crawling figures in black hoodies coming towards me added to the unease but didn't duly disturb me, (this is an odd side of me that is well, kinda odd. I rarely have nightmares and so am keen to experience them thinking they'll be more like personal horror films, none so far though) No, I'm not sure what it was but the usual happened, a lack of sleep and then an on/off sleep that stretched long into the next day. Everything ruined once more. 
You stupid stupid a**%$! I was too listless and apathetic to actually think that but it was there, my annoyance at myself. 
And round and round we go.
I'm getting in the habit of not eating a lot and kind of enjoying it. I know things aren't the best when I start munching on dry digestives. I've lost weight, all that work in the gym has now gone but for some reason I'm keen to emaciate myself. I guess this is another version of S.I. which is something else I've been thinking about, cutting away at my arms in a symmetrical pattern and letting myself bleed out.
Oh dear, how on earth did I get here?

What if all the world around you is an elaborate dream?

The day I tried to live

Prior to the day of that piece of the divorce coming through, I had been out with a former girlfriend. We are now friends, just about. She even attended my wedding. One of the many good things about my relationship with my former wife was the fact that jealousy was never a factor, trust was high on the agenda and never seemed to falter. Now, during a round-robin trip of supermarkets trying to find a self heating cup of hot choc for my impending weekend away, which as you'll know didn't happen due to the piece of the divorce arriving, my friend, who'll we'll call Miss Shrink for reasons that will become apparent soon, accompanied me on this lill' trip around my home city. During this trip, I'm not sure how it came up but the whole divorce thing and my black crept into the converse. Miss Shrink, being someone who is receiving counselling, reading self-help books and wanders round with a clutch of quotes and diagnosis from various self-help gurus gave her own take on the whole issue of me and my current ills. First up was reflection. How I would look upon the divorce in ten years or so. According to Miss Shrink I will look upon it all and realise how my behavior was different and see it all from  my former's point of view and will be able to forget and forgive. To which I said, 'No, I won't. She said, 'Yes, you will' and this went on for a few seconds until I laughed in derision. Next up was my current relationship with a lady where it's not quite a full relationship but it's more than mere friendship too. This was bottled down thusly by Miss Shrink who thought that, 'you should have more respect for yourself'. She has commented on this state of affairs before claiming that I need to, 'heal myself' before getting involved in any sort of naughty time with someone else. A comment about how my former wife shouldn't have married me as I wasn't, 'healthy, you're unhealthy' and how we should look at how I make, 'bad relationship choices' including, in the past, Miss Shrink herself.
Unbelievable.
My response verged between laughter, annoyance and a bit of rage too. When I look back on it I'm surprised I didn't tell her to, quite frankly, do one. Her diagnosis almost put a dampener on a day that was going alright.
Now, I'm all for self-help type stuff and if you have the funds and the inclination counselling but please do not try and project it on to me. 
Hmmm, should have said that to her at the time eh? Bugger.
Still, I'm sure I'll get the chance as more nonsense will emanate with regards to me and mine and I have to admit to finding it kind of amusing listening to such tosh. Certainly helps with filling my blog with content other than my black and blues.
The next day is where it all went wrong for a few days and if not for my current lady, I'll call her T for simplicity, then I'd probably be worse. 
But heck, what do I know? I, after all, don't have much respect for myself and am pretty unhealthy to know much of anything.

Better than I could say it...

Hyperbole and a half

Have a look, it's fab.

Right where it belongs

How many times can I get knocked down? That seems to be the poser at the moment.
I was going to write this blog entry with some fairly good news today but receiving another installment of my divorce papers kinda put a dampener on that. I wondered if I'd sensed its arrival as last night I went to bed feeling a bit anxious and awoke very tired. I stumbled downstairs to see my mother with a letter. She'd held it back knowing what my reaction would be. I opened it up and yeh, there it was. Words mentioned like, my behavior, irretrievably broken down, dissolved, all went into my head but didn't stick floating around like alphabetti-spaghetti.
For the first time in well, I dunno, probably since I was a kid, I actually sat close and rested my head on my mum's shoulder, tears followed. Same day different... no wait, same s*&t.
And all this after my last weekend where I saw her and had no response or anything from her. Barely a look in my direction. I looked in hers and could see, or maybe it was just me, that she looked different, her face seemed changed. It was the eyes. They seemed harder somehow. But I suppose I would say that wouldn't I?
Wandering around the supermarket earlier today I felt like I did the first month I was fully submerged in the black; stifled, anxious, lost, like I was swimming in a waterless swimming pool full of clear treacle, able to see and breathe but submerged into another place, inside a looking glass peering outwards.
All the while my mind kept reminding me and taunting me of my failures, the failure to keep the marriage, the failure to even live a stable day to day existence and the failure to even keep to some sort of commitment or simple activity. For example, I was due out this weekend but felt so tired and empty that that wasn't going to happen. Once again I fall out. Oh dear. This is getting to be a habit and a bad one at that.
So, back to my usual then. Drown myself aurally in music, eat a bit, try and not focus on SI and bounce between sleeping very little and then sleeping too much.

Yesterday...

No happy ending...

"This is the way you left me,
I'm not pretending.
No hope, no love, no glory,
No Happy Ending.
This is the way that we love,
Like it's forever.
Then live the rest of our life,
But not together.

Wake up in the morning, stumble on my life
Can't get no love without sacrifice
If anything should happen, I guess I wish you well
A little bit of heaven, but a little bit of hell

This is the hardest story that I've ever told
No hope, or love, or glory
Happy endings gone forever more
I feel as if I'm wastin'
And I'm wastin' everyday"

Mika: Happy Ending

Every day is exactly the same

Some days I wonder why I even bother carrying on. If I had no loved ones, what little are left that is, would I actually be bothering or would I have tried to do it and finally keep those voices silent by doing the ultimate? It’s something I wonder about especially during days like today. I awoke  in the morning and then fell asleep again and throughout until late afternoon I felt so tired and down, listless even that aside from reading a page or 2 or a Richard Dawkins book and listening to the Manics I did very little else. A bit of food, dry biccies until I got together a veg’ laden meal in the evening. Much tea too despite the warm weather. If it wasn’t for watching the Olympics my existence would be pretty minimal. It is anyway but it’d be even worse. Hmmm, maybe I’m being optimistic here and it really is. I can barely get up of a day and I am struggling. Again. I’m not sure what to do. A small cause is the fact that I may well see my former at the weekend at a place where we first met. I have to go but, damn!  am I nervous about it. More for the fact that I’ll have to see her and know that she’ll either blank me, not talk to me or both. I need to go but I do know the closer I get to it the harder it’ll be. But I have to move on, either with going there or my life in general. Life isn’t right now. It mostly consists of me not sleeping/over sleeping/wondering what I’m going to do next or constantly letting my mind mull over her. I can still barely believe the way I let the slow demise by pass me. The almost casual nature with which I took her leaving. The packing, the sign outside the door on our return from a mutual trip, the visits from others wanting the house now we (mostly she) were leaving. Memories of her crying and in pain when she was ill plague me like an irritating ulcer twisting the mental knife of torment, reminding me of good times and bad times together. A song here, a trip there or a future plan we were making all still keep throwing themselves to the front of my mind, mostly at night, regardless of whether I want them or not. At the time of it happening I was using bravado and bollocks to get by and the initial novelty, stupid I know, of being single but it didn’t last long and now I’m trying to make sense of it all which I doubt I will. ‘Closure’? Nuts to that word ‘closure’. It means nowt to me and seems like another pop psychology way of quantifying and categorising feelings, thoughts and actions. There will be no closure as it will always go on until time has given me distance enough away from it.

 At the time, deep down I knew resistance was futile (very Borg like eh?) but blimey, the effects of it now are being so keenly felt I can’t comprehend. I was in one state of affairs with a wife and future and now I’m in another with well, nothing. Ok, I have a room at my parents so it’s not awful awful but where I was and where I now am, well it ain’t far. But yeh, it could be worse but does that help me right now? F%$£ no!

So tonight I’m going to try an old trick of mine that I tried when I had insomnia years ago and that was just not go to bed. Wait it out and see in the morn awake rather than wait and think as per usual. It will mean I’m near wasted tomorrow but hopefully it’ll help me out for the coming weekend. I can write this, take in the morning sunrise and maybe get a run in too, exercise has been poorly executed by me recently and I used to love working out but at the moment it isn’t really a priority. What is? Not much to be honest and even if it were I doubt I’d have much enthusiasm or energy for it right now. I am in a dark deep hole and I don’t know how to get out. Or maybe I do but just don’t want to. Yet. Only the Lord Poseidon really knows the answer. Or is it that tube of coloured choc drops that does?

A relevant meme

The Daisy Award

The lovely coconut cream that is Halfway between the gutter and the stars has nominated me for a daisy award. So following the protocol for such things....
Many thanks to Halfway, very sweet and kind of you.

And now 7 unusal-ish things about me then...

1: I like dry foods, such as digestives, some cereal bars, rusks, crackers etc. And in some cases brekkie cereal too. That being sans milk.

2: I love cinnamon, not in a weird fetish way just in coffee and brekkie cereals. Hence my recent trips to that big coffee golden arch type chain, the one named after a bod in ‘Moby Dick’. They have cinnamon! Lots of it too.

3: I really like red heads and girls with fringes close to their eye line.

4: I love new trainer smell.

5: I love the colour hot pink. Goes great with black. And sometimes I like clothing that has OTT colours regardless of whether or not it suits me.

6: I collect too many mugs and novelty alarm clocks.

7: Sunrises, sunsets, the stars, the open sea, I can gawp and stare at them without getting bored and feel a nice calming sense of peace when I do. In fact with regards to the stars I used to stare at them and hope to be abducted from some far away galaxy. It never happened though.

As I don't really know any other blogs I hereby nominate this one for its total honesty, openness and emotional writing style that makes you think, makes you smile, frown and best of all makes you think yeh, me too!

Halfway between the Gutter and the Stars

And this one for being open and honest about mental illness and well, for being a read head :)

RedheadCase blog

Just gotta stay positive?

Words. So many of them spoken, so many of them meaningless, so many of them meaningful, so many of them hurtful. And then there’s the words that were meaningful but just remain air and vibrations.

‘You are my life.’

‘You’re safe and loved’

‘We can get though this’

They might as well have been scrawled on a beach for all their worth now.

Today I received what I think is the final divorce paper. With the title of the respondent, me, I have been found to have had an  ‘…unreasonable behaviour which has led to the marriage irretrievably breaking down.’

So, I think that’s it. Not only do I have to get through this I now have to get through this knowing it’s down to my mental illness this has happened. Great.

Reading it tears began to flow and I did my usual of lying down on my bed and plugging into some suitable tunes whilst sleep grazing. My mind did its usual. As it did one thought occurred if I hadn’t had been taken down with this damn black would things been different? Would I now still be in a marriage? My imagination took hold and I kept thinking of the possibilities of what could have been, what I would have said to myself if I could have done a ‘Marty Mcfly’ and gone back to have a word with myself. Saying that what would have I said?

‘Those fears that are hidden? Those you daren’t even think about? Well, they may come back and see her? She’ll do one.’

Oh yeh, great, real helpful that! That would’ve been enough to push me into it anyway so what good would that’ve done? So here I am. I started off the year badly and very down. Now? Well, not much has changed and in some respects it has gotten worse because my partner left me and I don’t know what to do. The strong feelings of ending it came again on Saturday but the thing is I felt quite numb to it all when thinking about it, not angry or violent or anything extreme just complete numbness like my whole body had gone to sleep. Wandering around the shops at one point I felt like Zach Braff does in ‘Garden State’ that bit where he’s sat on the couch and all those people are moving and doing things around him with him looking on? I didn’t do anything but walk and that seemed to help some. Better than leaping off into the river anyhow. It’s filthy in there.

Today I wanted to run away, where? Lord knows. I had the same on Saturday. I was having a bad day and after a listless meeting with friends, they were tired too, I came back home and walked past old haunts; places I hadn’t been through in a long long time. It felt a little odd, almost like walking back in time and after that I walked and walked until hunger and fatigue brought me home. I was tempted to go further and today I wondered if I could have walked to the coast, on and on until I could see the sea, lose myself in nature and fatigue. Sounded good but practical? Only the great Lord Zeus knows that. And well, probably me really. I think I think too much.

Song of the week: The Streets: Stay Positive

She's not there

Although I really hate throwing  up, I mean really hate it, to the point of holding it back when it starts to erupt and making possessed like noises like a drowning demon when it finally does erupt, some days I wish I could vomit, binge and purge myself of her memory; a mental emptying but that’s not going to happen. It’d be as hopeless as trying to rid myself of any memory good or bad. But the urge is still there.  I had another dream about her. This time she was pregnant and shacking up with a co-friend and then she wanted to get back with me. All very odd but significant is as much as it shows my subconscious is trying to find some sort of peace for itself and therefore me because right now there is none. Or if there is it patchy. I don’t know where I can go with this now, these thoughts and feelings. I baulk at counselling as I don’t think it’s me, truly I don’t. Talking about it has helped but ultimately I can only see time and me riding out this storm coming somewhere to helping but that will take time, who knows how much? And also a lot of discomfort. One minute she was part of my life, 7 years and now because of my black she isn’t and that’ shard to take because although she has hurt me terribly I still do miss her. Luckily friends and family are understanding but how long will that last? I sometimes worry that even the Samaritans will get bored of me.

Black flowers blossom...

When the black is this all encompassing and so constant you sometimes wonder to yourself if it is worth talking about anymore. I’m sure that certain people and certain friends are bored of it by now and probably fed up with hearing about my black. Lately I have learned who I can and can’t off-load on. I always imagine some have this mind set of whenever I see them or want to talk to them of, ‘Oh great, here he comes with his black cloud bring down everyone attitude. Change the record will you?!’ Do they? I dunno. I’ve asked one or two this and they’ve been nice enough to say, ‘Don’t be so bloody silly’. But sometimes I wonder if I should keep it quiet. I know I’ve bored myself with this so naturally it’s bound to have bored those closest to me. Such as they are right now because I think it’s a pretty small circle. But maybe it’s better if it is, less damage control with regards to this illness right now.

I had a dream the other morning, firstly about various dead and rotting animals, which was odd and kinda disturbing and then a dream which featured my former. When I awoke for a second or so I thought it had been real and then reality seeped in around me and oh yeh, bugger, I dreamt it. In it I tried to talk to her and she responded a little. It seemed as if she’d been trying to avoid me and when I saw her she looked upset and surprised. The usual came out, why weren’t you talking to me? Why the avoidance? To which she replied I hear you’ve been doing fine and I said so have you from what I’ve heard and she smiled at this. This came from me hearing she’d been out clubbing and my mind putting 2 and 2 together and coming up with whatever it wants. But to me it was something, a reaching out it was better than what I’ve had so far which has been nowt. As sad as it sounds dreams are my only way of contacting her. Sad I know but what else can I do? My mind is struggling and I’m struggling. The ability to cope is dissolving and has been for a while. What’s left isn’t much, just a patchwork of joined up nerves odds, ends and biscuit crumbs.

I was reflecting on something said to me last week when I’d told them I’d stopped writing (not this obviously, fiction writing) and I’d explained too many set backs had robbed my initial enthusiasm. Her reply has stuck with me because she replied thusly,  ‘How many slaps in the face can you take before you say stop?’  You see, for all the bravado and simple uplifting style slogans from movie and song the fact remains there is only so much a person can take before it’s too much to bear anymore. This doesn’t have to be creative scribblings it could be anything in life, trying to make it as an actor, sports person, stand up, artist, whatever. After a while and I’m talking years here not a few weeks or months, you wonder to yourself if it’ll ever happen. Perhaps the odds of winning the lottery are higher and would cause far less mental distress.

Song of the day: Teardrop

Apt

"You're so fragile tonight
Been up hurting all night
It's not trivial like they think
Yes you're desperate and you're hurt"

MSP

The Bends

At the moment my mind can’t help but pick at the mental scab that was my marriage. This being certain songs that remind me of her or a certain time together. Sometimes I need to listen to one to really, what? Rub my conscious into it? Remind myself that those good times are now just a past memory? I don’t know but at the moment it’s a habit I can’t break.

Today I must have stayed in the shower for something like twenty minutes trying to drive away the cold I can feel from within, hoping the hot shower water would somehow penetrate deep within me like some sorta spiritual mental microwave. Fat chance. I came out more pink and wrinkly than anything else still feeling that inner chill. Things are still the same right now I haven’t shaved for 2 weeks and like it like that. The salt and pepper whiskers feel like a covering of some sort. It also makes me feel strangely better too, my older features reflecting how I feel inside somehow. Depression is such an invisible illness; not for the owner, that sometimes you need an outlet which for me whiskers and the results of my SI. The result of last weeks markings are fading, the scabs starting to fall away leaving what I hope are scars. Because I want scars. Scars to reminds me and tell me this is real and that I’m not making this bloody black up.

Going to bed of a night I am struggling to keep to a regular sleeping pattern, aside from the pattern of not sleeping until the sun comes up and then either still not sleeping or sleep grazing until 12pm. I either listen to music and cogitate over my marriage and life or watch the baseball. This has made a social life difficult, not just for that reason but also because I am not in a social mood.  I have been out, twice this past week. One to see a play with two friends and one on a date. Yes, me on a date. Actually it was the third one and went fine, a girl who likes my company, seems to fancy me and understands where I’m at right now. When I told another friend about this situation she was far from impressed saying that in the wake of my divorce I should allow myself to ‘heal’.  She is big on counselling right now and most of her words and advice seem to come from that angle. Pro words like, ‘healthy and unhealthy anger’ are used. ‘Displacement of anger’ is too, (this because I told her to mind her own business when she enquired as to the sale of my wedding ring and didn’t I get a lot for it) But I myself disagree. I’m not getting involved per-se and well, we make each other happy and both know the score so what’s the prob bob?

I’ve yet to visit a men’s help group that I know about locally with regards to mental health. This isn’t because I don’t want to, more like I keep oversleeping. I will go but as with other things requiring me to leave the house and keep to a schedule it has become tricky. I’ve let my gym usage drop considerably too which pains me a bit but not as much as I would have thought. The drive just isn’t there right now. It’s my birthday this week. What to feel about that?

...this mess of a man...

Right now my existence seems to revolve around digestive biscuits, tea, hibernation, baseball, music and thinking of her, mostly good times so as to really mentally torture myself. I also can’t stop dreaming about her. In the dreams she mostly says nothing. This morning during one of my sleep grazing dreams she actually spoke. Only to answer my question of, are you talking to me now? And then she only smiled and said that she wasn’t actively not talking to me. I think my mind is trying hard to figure all of this out and dreams are a way of doing that. It’s the only was because I’m not going to get anything from her.

Today I tried to wrap myself in music and darkness, lights off, NIN playing softly. My body seems to be keeping me numb and sleepy at the moment, energy is at a low level and I can barely get up the enthusiasm to live let alone do anything. The urge or rather the strongest feeling in me that isn’t apathy is one that requires me to either SI or take my thoughts to the next logical step (logical in my mind of course) and take it to my wrist. On  and on this is going, on  and on. La Tristesse Durera tour jours indeed.

Song of the day: NIN Right where it belongs

Cherry Blossom Tree

I made it to the shoot. I did this because basically I didn’t sleep.  I tried but failed. Everytime I even came close to nodding off my mind would worry about oversleeping and oop, I’m awake again. So I gave up with an hour and half till my alarm was due to go off and didn’t feel too bad until about 4pm and then as long as I didn’t sit still for too long I was fine. At times I did feel  a little odd though. My mind seemed to be confused as to why it was still awake. It felt like it was swimming, everything had a slight unreality feel to it.

The coffee helped but it also made my heart feel like it was beating like a f&*^%$d clock too (An ‘I’ special there). It also meant that I was out of the house and had to clean myself up some and actually interact with people other than my mind of memories and thoughts. All in all a not bad day. Other thoughts tried to intrude but I just about managed to shoo them away. Today though it’s a case of normal service resumed. Things are odd right now as I’m not sure how to proceed with either my career (such as it is) or well, my life. I’ve always liked the idea of an exit door, in a course, a day out, job anything, so the rationale behind my suicidal thoughts seem to revolve around this, it’s a way out. A way out for me and for others.  I remember telling my then wife this once. How me ending it would be better for all of us and for her, no money worries or worries about me. She didn’t think so and said my absence would be awful for her. Turns out that wasn’t quite right as my absence was fine as long as I didn’t leave behind a lot of mess and paperwork. Levity aside and divorce aside when I do think about the ending it it seems to comfort me in a bizarre way. Sunday is no exception. I spoke to a close friend yesterday about it all which was nice and helped me some. The thing is sometimes I bore myself with my talk and I’m sure I bore others with it all too and perhaps being them down. When I left him he mentioned on Friendface later on that he was down. Hmmm, I wonder why? Some days I swear I’m starting to sound like Neil from the Young Ones. Everything is countered in my mind, activity wise, with, Can’t do that as I’m planning to kill myself man (the ‘man’ bit is optional). It’s on my mind a lot today and I do feel heavy and sad, mentally. The things  I used to look forward to no longer interest me at all. I used to gym it a lot but now? Now I can barely get the energy or the interest up for it. Anxiety burns within me like an ember that refuses to either flare up or burn out and silly things have now become magnified within the prism of the black and seem huge. I don’t know what to do now.

Hurt

This hurts so much right now. I have nothing to go on either; one minute married the next without significant other.  All those words she said to me, all those Hollywood movie style horse s*&£ words that now mean sod all. ‘You are my life’, ‘You’re mine now’, ‘I can’t believe we’re married’ , ‘I’m so lucky to have you in my life’, etcetc. Thinking about it now it's left me confused and feeling worse now than I did back in January.  How can I ever enter a relationship and not be cynical towards those feelings and sentiments now? At least then I had some support, a loving partner. Now? Now I don’t. The ‘sickness and in health’ line of our marriage vows must have had a by line I wasn’t aware of, NB: ‘Of course this does not include mental health’.

Earlier I fell asleep, sleep grazing, and as I did I had various songs on that sang about break ups and the such like. I then had an odd dream about her where she didn’t really say anything and had her back to me and I actually woke myself briefly because I was crying. I’ve woken myself up with laughter but this was the first time I’ve actually felt tears. When I woke up a bit later on I felt very strange, cold and bereft is the only way I can describe it. I was also chewing on huge slabs of bacon in that dream too which, as a veggie, was also disturbing!

Before this I wasn’t sure what was causing my black. Now I have an added causal effect to deal with. I’m wondering that if it passes, which I’m sure it will sometime in the future; weeks, months? What will I be left with then? The old black that started all of this in the first place? Where does that black begin and this one end?

So I also had my first shower and shave in a week too, mostly as I’m due to be on set this week for a day of background extras type filming. Sleep may be a problem but I’m hoping that hot stimulating liquids may help me out. For the past few days I’ve seen the sun slowly rise just after 4am and heard the birds start the day off too. This time I hope I won’t as I’ll need some sleep if I’m to do this 8 hour shoot. I’m not feeling up to it or for that matter, anything but I’m gonna have to leave the house sooner or later I guess. I can only watch so many Adam Curtis documentaries online.

Aftermath: reprise

So I broke. Another layer of black to deal with.

I couldn’t help it. I was due to go away recently and had my usual stresses involved with that, nerves about going out, trying to find stuff needed, meeting new people, all very usual for me but this time it felt too big to overcome. One reason was because all I could think about was her. Before if I got stressed she could help, she’d see through my tetchiness for what it was, nerves and she’d calm me and I would sometime seek reassurance from her but this time, no more. I honestly felt cast adrift. And by the end of the night I was leaking more salt water than a er… a er… leaky salt. Thing. Damnit,  it’s taken me longer to think of a salt water simile than write this. Anyway, basically tears came. Again and I found myself back in my black hole and I cancelled any and all activities and probably upset some people too with my actions. Again. So here I am, sleep grazing and thinking of her and why I am now a statistic. A divorcee. I have my suspicions but whatever, it still hurts and hurts bad. Why though? Why damn it all? Her mother had and still has mental illness problems and I think, when I said during a low point, I didn’t think it would ever go, internally she must have panicked and thought, Well, I’m not gonna end up like my dad with a partner who has these problems for the rest of their days. I really do think that was a part of it. I do because well, I have nothing else to go on.

The split happened in March, I was out in April and it’s only now with time spent apart that it has really infiltrated me, really soaked in. I was talking to a new friend about it last week and she said; she was divorced too, that it was like a death and I think she’s right. You feel so lost and empty but you have no say in their removal. 
I seem to be upsetting people lately too. On that interwebsite Friendface (recognise that name? Moss, Jen and Roy where are you now?) I asked a friend I’d been getting to know, who was also a friend of hers, about us meeting. She said, what would your former say? Jokingly, I said, well I won’t say anything and besides who would you have more fun with? Unfortunately said friend took this as a slight against my former and said it seemed like I was slagging her off. I said no, I was trying to use levity to lighten the message. Didn’t work obviously. Then during a moment of lowness I asked her that if she spoke to her could she tell her that I missed her as she has cut herself off from me. To which said friend replies with, I’m not your middle man and so far no more messages from her since. After that I actually texted my former other and got… nothing. No surprise there really. When she gave me a forwarded piece of mail a month or so ago she wiped her address from it. Not sure what she thought I’d do with it but seeing that hurt. What does she think I am now that she'd do that and totally cut herself off from me, aside from divorce papers which put it plainly in very stark clear black and white terms regarding her reasons for divorce?
When she first mentioned this to me she asked if it was ok to mention the black. I said yes, for what other reason is there? I wasn't sure if she was trying to spare my blushes or her own. 
So, remember all that fuss about the Mayans and 2012 being a bad year? 
They weren't wrong.


Song of the moment: Faith No More 'everything's ruined'

Soliloquy in Sainsburys

I broke down and told you,

I scooped it out deep from within.

I took a chance, knowing it was risky, deep down fearing the worst but not really believing it.

You sat with me as we drank our bad overly sweet coconut hot chocolates, holding my hand, reassuring me both of us gently weeping as you saw me at my lowest.

Over oily chips I struggled to look at you but you made me telling me it’d be all right and that you’d be there, you weren't going anywhere.

Staring at an empty plastic chair where are you now when I need you the most?

Kindreds

Now and again I shall post up a link or two to another site I think worthy of your time.
This is such a sight. I came across it whilst browsing and enjoyed it a lot. The one thing I uttered whilst reading was, Not just me then.
I hope you get something from it too.
Halfway between the Gutter and the Stars

Love don’t live here anymore

I don’t know what I was like during my initial black. I tried, after some prompting, to be more open about my feelings and all that sorta thing with my wife. It was difficult as I do tend to internalise.  It’s just the way I am. Sometimes I could talk but sometimes I could not. This, I imagine, didn’t make me the funnest of individuals to live with. My wife helped me a lot during those first dark months. After all she was the one who got me to the doctors, the one who cuddled me when I was pouring out with tears and feeling very low and very un-masculine (because no matter how much of a hormonal realise tears are I always feel so stupid crying. Mostly because of the look I know my face is making and the noises I would be making were my voice high enough) and she was the one who offered her ear whenever I needed it. So far so grand. Now prior to the doctors obvious diagnosis I had the odd bout of extreme black, the sort where you can barely talk to anyone or even motivate yourself to leave the house. On one such occasion my wife’s father came along. I was in no mood to entertain less still to go out but I did go out because I knew that my wife despite her telling me that I didn’t have to, would take it badly. Sure enough she did anyway as she said that her father thoughts that he had done something wrong to facilitate my glum mush and quiet demeanor. Weeks later I told her the reasons for said glum face and quiet demeanor. I am still not sure whether she understood or whether she still thinks I was just being a moody glum face for the sake of it. 

Suicide was something that I mentioned during my dark days to her. This was difficult as I knew it would have an effect, I mean, telling your loved one that your keen on the idea of ending your life isn’t going to have anything but an effect and a bad one at that. The thing is, not telling her or anyone at all was hurting me but seeing her reaction was also hurting me so what to do? I’ll tell you what I did. I resorted to something I had done ten years previously during my last big black. Self harm. Or SI (self injury) as some call it. My wife knew my previous on this as she was one of a small group who knew about it. I resorted to it again as things got to be too much. Now SI is a topic all on its own and I’m only going to go into it with regards to my own experiences of it. Why would I do such a violent thing to my own body? I can’t explain it perfectly but basically it is a way of making the black real, bringing it out onto my body so I know that a) I’m not making it up b) there is evidence of this ugliness inside and I can now see it in some sort of tangible form. It can also break through the numbness you feel too and sometimes act as a conduit with regards to the suicidal feelings that get pent up deep within. Now that probably makes bugger all sense but to me it makes some sort of sense and in an illness where sense isn’t exactly brimming over it’s the best yer gonna get from yours truly right now! Now when my wife found out about my latest SI she took it reasonably ok at first but then a bit later on quite clearly did not take it even close to reasonably ok, first being angry and then crying and blaming herself before blaming me. She wanted to know why I hadn’t contacted her during my ‘urge’ to SI and also why I didn’t hold my promise not to SI? I didn’t and still don’t recall this promise but apparently promise I did. So this of course made me feel worse and also made me wary of telling her if I slipped again. And slip I did about a month later. I tried to keep it away from her but when you’re living with someone well, it’s not that easy. The sudden appearance of a bandage kinda gives it away. I tried to keep the marks hidden and not in visible places but of course once unclothed that’s it isn’t it? During my urge to SI I couldn’t talk and the one time I did was when my wife happened to be there during an SI urge. There was no talking as I didn’t know how to say what I was feeling or indeed what to say. Her cure was unconventional but did work. Sex basically. Great, except she couldn’t always be there to replace one of my urges with another.

So all of that probably didn’t help matters as you can imagine and coupled with my suicidal tendencies and well the only outcome is stress. For her as well as me. During this time I was taking anti-depressants (and still am) and they did help but I’d just started taking them and sometimes the side effects could make things worse but considering I was like this before the tablets I couldn’t tell the difference between side effects and the black in me. But slowly things did improve a bit. I’d got a job and I was drawing and trying my best to stay afloat. Unfortunately my wife was becoming distant. She said that I’d changed which made her change towards me. First there was talk of me moving out so I could, ‘get better’.  In talking and in my clumsy way I thought me comparing this to a bad outcome, separation, would make her quickly protest. It didn’t. When again this came up, me moving out, again in my very clumsy way and seeking reassurance I threw divorce in, not a request by me but I was hoping, again, just mentioning the word would make her protest quickly. Alas, no and so it came that just before our 1^st anniversary of being wed we agreed to split. Well, I didn’t so much agree as realise that me protesting; which I did but my rebuke of, I need you, was swatted away with, you say you need me but you didn’t say that you wanted me. So I knew pursuing it wasn’t going to be a good outcome. Seeing a couple of ‘Happy Wedding Anniversary’ cards a few days after that and also finding out that I’d lost my job and that she was quickly moving out and had already secured herself a house made me wonder if I’d really upset the deity up in the sky that some of us follow. It also told me that when the Dogs D'Amour once sang this they really had a point. So facing a divorce I now had to tell my parents, friends and my best man which was pretty damn horrible. It all really hadn’t sink in, until now. And now well, now I’m facing up to it and feeling its effects. So much so that I broke.