Army Dreamers

My military career, reservist not regular, is looking very shaky indeed right now.
I haven't been there since the Xmas dine out with my new troop and the more I think about it the harder it is to even consider setting foot in the place. I'm starting to feel like Matt Malone did whenever he'd attempt to walk out of his flat. ('Game On' reference there, a BBC sitcom from the mid-90s).
Whenever I think about going there, seeing certain people the nerves kick in big time. I don't know if it's going back to the military discipline or the fact that people will expect something of me or that people will moan at me or question my absence. Maybe it's all of the above that is making me uncomfortable about going back. It's annoying because at certain points throughout a day I may be reminded of my time there. A certain smell may take me back, for instance the scent of diesel will always be tied up with Landrovers and the military for me. Or it might even be seeing a soldier on the TV. I see that and I do have a the odd bit of yearning to go back. But whenever I try and think about it, boom! back I go into young me and all of the nerves and fears that I used to wear like a second skin.
Saying that though, it's not like anyone I know there has even got in touch with me to ask how things are? Out of sight out of mind I guess.

I have failed...

Of all the days it has to come knock-knocking on my door.
An introduction day, one I had been looking forward to, and I was a no-show. 
I felt it last night, that cold raw feeling deep within me. It had started early. The voice of doubt wasn't long in speaking up and when it did I knew that the next day would be difficult if not impossible to get to. I don't know what made me feel worse, not going or the feeling that preceded me not going. And if that isn't enough, tomorrow I'm off to Wales for my week long practicals assessments for the ending of the first year of my University course. 
It couldn't have come at a worse time. Hmm, should be careful what I say there. I'm sure there will be other 'worse' moments to come. There has been before.
When it comes crashing down around me like this I feel so disrupted, it's like the past few weeks haven't happened and I'm right back to that bad day at the end of February, panicky, lost, fearful.
I have a presentation to construct too and I'm basing it around mental health. I'm trying to decide whether or not to include my own very personal experiences in it as well.
I'm so un-sure of everything right now and any glimpse towards my future or even a glance backwards to my past causes me such anxiety.

What am I going to do?

"Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go
So make the best of this test and don't ask why
It's not a question but a lesson learned in time"

Green Day: Good Riddance (Time of your life)

Running up that Hill

Right now I am trying to build for the future, my future. 
I'm nervous, very nervous in attempting it. Mainly because past experiences have taught me  that it can go wrong. My attempt at building feels as though it is all being constructed on a foundation of sand. Seemingly solid until a big waves comes along and crumbles it all away until it comes crashing down all around me with a huge bump and a bang that will reverberate in my ears for weeks to follow.
This has manifested itself in my trying to get back into competitive football, goalkeeper position to be exact. Now, this hasn't always worked out how I would have liked. 
My first game in goal, Futsal. Was stressful and I didn't exactly paint myself in any glory what-so-ever. The next game after some coaching went better. I had some tools to use. 
Last week, not so as anyone who read my last blog entry will know. Last night too started off well and then went down-hill. A couple of errors and it felt like that was it for me after that. Uphill all the way, trying hard to make up for the errors by pulling off save after save. Not so. I think I got one good one and one minor one after that. Getting a whack in the chops didn't help either, (If my writing suddenly goes allmafffaskknff then you'll know pumpkin)
I also played 11-a-side last weekend for the first time since '98. Only this time in goal. Again, not brilliant. Learning on the job, as it were, a few positives and mistakes to learn from. It certainly wasn't as bad as I thought it would be though. 
Prior to the game, I was thinking about it and worrying about it. What would they think of me if I messed up? Would I get shouted at? Sworn at? How would I even perform? So many doubts questions and fears that pushed out any sort of enjoyment I should have got from the game completely. In the second half with the sun and wind behind me I didn't feel a little better. I'd started talking to my back 4 a bit more and despite a couple of errors, I did at least feel a little bit more confident. By the end I felt ok, feeling like I had achieved something by getting there and getting through the whole match.
I'm also slowly progressing through my football coaching, putting my name down for various goalkeeping coaching courses. Away from that and back to my old creative endeavors I've also written and sent off a play about suicide. With regards to relationships however, well that isn't happening and that's probably just as well.
Last night I had very emotional dreams regarding my black and my ex-wife. I awoke with damp eyes a I spent most of the dreams crying.That was the most prominent feature of my dreams. Being a a highly emotive state throughout and I'm sure she was involved at some level or other.
So, as you can see, I'm trying. 
I guess all I can do is plans and hope for the best, always mindful that if it wants to my black can come and strike me down whenever it wants to.

'Clenched fists, be brave...'

This is what you get...

I don't think I'll ever get over my wife, now ex wife, leaving me. 
Not fully. I'm sure over the years it'll fade but the scar will be forever be there, faded and dull but still there like a little ghostly leech. These last couple of days I have missed her intensely. It came after a couple of defeats, (I'm playing football or rather futsal) and I dearly wanted some comfort, last night and tonite, someone to say, 'Hey, no biggie, it'll be all ok.' Someone to hold, squeeze, and someone to do likewise. Most I got was to squeeze the goalkeeper glove of my key ring. Well it is nice and soft. 

When I'm in bed, that's when it comes back.  Last night it certainly did, last night when it all came crumbling down, like a sandcastle being enveloped by the tide of my own fears gently eating away at its foundations leaving a confused and lost little boy feeling very much alone.
Missing her, wondering how I let the relationship escape me, realising those early fears of my depression came true; that she, she could would did leave me. The worst fear that I thought was just a part of my depression had actually come true.
The last day or so it has hurt more significantly than it has done in the last few months and I've only just realised why. It's the third anniversary of the marriage on the 26th of this month. Sub-conscious maybe? Sub-conscious memories which might explain the balls to bone feeling of loss that I'm feeling right now? That deep feeling that is the spiritual equivalent of having a nasty illness, say chicken pox, that horrible right through to your bone marrow sickness that makes you feel so so bad. And which is what I'm feeling now.
It doesn't help that myself and my father rarely talk. When I came home earlier all I wanted was a simple, 'How did it go? How are you?' Something, anything to show we are family. But no, all I got was, 'Is it raining?' The one time I needed something from him that would show we weren't virtual strangers and are really father and son, not just genetically, but no. 

Days like These

It was a hard defeat in futsal tonite. I'm doing my best but sometimes, damn, you don't know what to do.
I guess my deciding to go back into goal, the one position where mistakes and even non-mistakes can be highlighted as mistakes, isn't necessarily the best for my mind right now. 
It can be a lonely position. 
Nuts to it. It's what I want, still want. Robert Enke is and was my inspiration to even get back into football. For Enkus.
I can learn from my mistakes.
I will learn from my mistakes.
I only hope I can last.

Wrapped in fog

This month has been relatively stable for me, hence my lack of blog entries. The last week or so there was a bit of a wobble, nothing as bad as that big Wednesday but still when it happens it always makes me a little fretful. Last night and this morning I had very odd dreams. The oddest one being my return to the small town I used to live in with my ex-wife. There was also the potential or opportunity, I'm not sure which I just know there was a sense of something happening, of me and her talking. It left me with a strange feeling upon waking. I was also due to go to participate in some training with regard to speaking out on mental health but feeling a bit rough, I have a cold, and my usual I didn't go. I took the chance to then sleep, which I did and had some more odd dreams which I can barely remember but I know they were.. odd.

Today's over-used word will be... The. No, of course not, it's, odd.

I was keen to go to the training but what I noticed is that lat night I was slowly getting more up tight about going. Getting to and finding the venue were causing me stress. It was slow but it built up until my chest was starting to feel tight with the anxiety. I don't usually get that bad unless I'm doing something big like going away for a spell. But there it was and it probably contributed to me not going. 

What have I become?
I feel like I' m turning into an individual who I soon won't be able to recognize. Every so often when I look into the mirror the face that gawks back at me, makes me recoil. 
'Who are you?!' I ask before quickly flinching away. My anxiety levels are through the roof lately and whenever I try and think of my future it just scares me. Far too many thoughts and far too many fears are taking their toll and I'm not sure how to break free of them.
And as for relationships?! Forget that. Who on earth wants to spends time or even a life with someone with this illness? I've already had one leave because of it and I'm not keen to repeat that again.

Stop those thoughts, control your mind

So, aftermath then.
I slept long and when I awoke felt quite groggy. Yesterday was a low point, more due to the fact that it had started off well. I'm confused as to why it descended so quickly and why it led me to me feeling as suicidal as I was. Today I feel better but still a bit tense, I suppose you could say. The trouble with having a suicidal mind is that once you've accepted it and have even started planning it, anything that disrupts those plans makes you almost annoyed. As if you're weak for not following through with your plans. It's like having a nagging friend in the corner of your mind all the time,
'You can't think about buying that shirt, you're going to kill yourself. What's the point of planning to buy that or anything else?'
Silly isn't it? My own mind conspiring against me like that. It makes you tired, weary. I have to tell myself, 'Not today eh? Let's leave it for now.'
My depression, (I wish this illness had a new name, depression doesn't fit it anymore, especially as it is used to describe a 'gloomy' mood or an off day. The two are all too often interchangeable) is an illness that doesn't really have a big start point, no big emotional experience or background that set it off. I remember reading years ago about how metal illnesses usually start off in one of two ways:
A big emotional event, death of a loved one, some traumatic event or childhood experience that sets it off. These are usually quick and short.
Slow and steady. nothing in particular sets it off and it sticks around.

Which is mine, slow and steady. 
I could point to various stressful moments over its course through my life but nothing that big. Of course the divorce made it worse but apart from that, there isn't any one thing that started it off. Which makes it harder to accept sometimes. I think, we as humans always look for some sort of reason for conditions and I'm not different.
I have some therapy on Friday. 
I think it's probably about time.

Chocolate waffles

I might as well have them for hands. 

I can barely cope with anything more than a handful and when I do try I leave behind a mess. Today started off well enough, up early for the gym, brekkie and coffee. An hour later and I was back in bed, feeling everything just collapse inside of me. I'd messaged in and said I'd been throwing up most of the night. Let's face it, it's easier to say something like that than, 'I'm feeling suicidal. Again.' 
I stuck on some music, Manic Street Preachers and Radiohead, and let myself nod off into an uncomfortable sleep. Vivid dreams followed, one being about suicide. The dreams were for some reason set in the night-time which felt odd and gave it a darker edge too. After that I felt awful, my stomach felt as if I'd ingested a dozen alka-seltzers, fizzy and uncomfortable. Nerves filled me, dread permeated. My phone, when I eventually checked it had messages and missed calls noted. I still haven't checked the messages. I haven't felt this bad for a long time. I've felt off and bad but today is truly the worst. Certain pictures and sounds on the TV felt almost painful to see and hear. If I'd had some sort of decent plan and wasn't so scared I'd be able to well, you know.
Nodding off in front of that Ken Burns documentary, 'Civil War' offered some respite but as soon as I awoke it was back to that feeling again. I feel unable to talk about it as well. 
My mother asked me what was wrong, what set it off? but I felt mute and said nothing. 
I just can't get the words out. But then it feels easier to say nothing. 
No more words. 
For what is the point? 
It will just be the same ones I've heard and spoken time and time again. 

I'm frightened of what is to come.