Travelling and anxiety

I'm going to visit my hometown today.
Catch up with a few old friends, family, stay with dad and so on.
And visit my mum in the home.

So I am wound up to the point of screaming because I'm going to see a 65 year old woman who looked after me for 20 years and now can't dress herself, remember her name, and doesn't really know who I am.

Once I've done it I'll be OK, but this is the shitty bit. I think I shouldn't have taken a weeks holiday before going up as I've had a week to sit and think about it. Hindsight is always 20:20 though.

Diet

I'm not fit, I am fat.

But by diet I am referring to the concept of "diet" as the whole way of eating and the food one chooses to eat, not the sort of "I've eaten 3 lettuce leaves and I've lost half an ounce, which means I can eat 4 Victoria sponge cakes!" diet the girls in the office all seem to be on at all times.

I am 6'3 and about 18 stone. about 250lbs, 115kg - but that's mostly a guess. I don't think we own a set of scales.

And when I'm at home my diet is appalling. I eat crap. 'Comfort' food, junk, lots of biscuits, cake, ready meals... generally shit food.
When I'm away I eat a lot more veg, fruit, a lot less meat, a lot more fish...

This is mainly because I'm outnumbered 2 to 1, and they don't like vegetables, or fruit that's not covered in cream. Veg is considered OK when covered in cheese sauce or gravy or roasted in lots of fat... but only just.

I can really see the difference in myself. Mood is part controlled by food. When I eat better, I feel better. Several portions of fish during the week seems to be helpful to my mood and lots of veg and fruit makes me feel full for longer and stops me grazing on sweet things during the evening. Here I am always going to the cupboard looking for biscuits, crisps, and I eat far too much of it.

I also want to eat at about 6:30, everyone else wants to eat at 8:30-9pm, which I feel is far too late in the day to eat, but I can't seem to win the battle.

Uncertainty.

I like it less and less and less... but I don't know whether I dislike it because I'm behaving contrary to the cultural and social mores I was brought up in, or because I'm tired of the relationship.

Too many sides, but there's no side to him...

If you are following or reading this, it looks like there's been no post for a few days.
But for some reason some posts I wrote, saved, edited and posted later have appeared on the day they were originally written.
Wasn't the idea, and I'm not sure how to change that preference - if it is one!
If you know - please tell me.

My rational side is enjoying the news about Atheist summer camps being launched in the UK.
My "annoyed by minutiae" side is being annoyed by too many emails from a humanist group...
My Bad Man side is in remission this morning.

Sometimes it fades

The mood faded and raised itself to a tolerable level where I could function.

Also I had an amusing moment when I took what I thought was a bread roll from the bread bin only to discover it was, in fact, a sweet potato. OK - so it isn't funny... but for some reason it made me laugh out loud. Several times. I'm smiling now several hours later too.
Odd what can cheer you up.

Now I'm listening to Guy Garvey on 6Music. That helps.

Talking to people on the net made me feel good too.
Z-girl seems to have had the flu but is improving, apparently.

where did that come from?

Suddenly, this morning I'm in the black.
There it is - that void in the corner of the room sucking at my soul again.

All the breath control, meditation and techniques in the world don't seem to want to help so far.
Maybe its the beer from the other night catching up with me?
Maybe its the fact that I'm horny and lonely, and yet I'm with the person who loves me and who I've loved all these years.
Maybe its just one of those things.

Robert Wyatt on the radio
Tea in the pot
No work

I consider my blessings counted...

Something more...

I've barely been in a pub since the smoking ban came in.
And yesterday I noticed the smell.
Stale beer.
Sweat.
Old food.
Air thats been through the fans too many times.

Not overpowering, but definately there.

Maybe they should bring back the ciggies...

Not with a bang, but a whimper?

Wifey showed me what she'd been working on.

It was a picture of us mounted on a homemade frame that she calls a layout. There was hearts and flowers and messages of "true love always" and stuff like that all around it. It was skillful, clever and artistic and it left me completely, utterly cold.


I grew up with no photos in the house - My dad never let us have photos up. I found out in my late teens his violent, nasty, abusive mother insisted on posed family portraits - so he associated pictures with a false front of reality that was presented to the public, but inside it was nothing but violence and hate.


So I suppose that's why the scrapbooking thing leaves me cold. I know there's no romance in our marriage any more... its pretty dead. There's rarely any sex, years between occasions of lovemaking. No intimacy.

So I guess thats it.

Beer, curry, aftermath.

I was alone again last night.

Too tired to drive home, I stayed in my digs. So I decided to go for a pint. This is a very unsual thing these days as I found a while ago that drink and depression go hand in hand.

But once in a while I can cope with it and as I had nothing in the house to eat, I decided a pint or two and something to eat was the order of the night.

The first pub was on the square in the centre of the town. I've been told by lots of people its a great pub. Well - at 8pm last night, it wasn't. It was all but empty and the few people who were there obviously had several hours start on my drinking plans. That said, they weren't a problem, I took my Burton Bitter to a table at the window, leafed through a copy of The Times that had been left on the chair and swapped a few texts with birthday girl.
The beer wasn't good. Burton Bitter isn't a beer I'd usually chose, but I was hungry, and out of shape, beer drinking wise, and thought a lower alcohol choice would be smartest. It was cloudier than it should have been, thinner than I like (but thats the lower alcohol for you) and edging towards sour.

I then took a nice walk across town to another pub that had been recomended. I was tempted to turn away at the last moment to one I know sells Timothy Taylor's Landlord (my favourite) but I decided I was in the mood for new things... so I carried on.

The Kings Head has some sort of military connection which means it is decorated with medals pictures and even a pair of Lee Enfield rifles on one wall. There was an "open mic" night in the offing and I was thinking I might stay, but the Ringwood Best Bitter certainly wasn't up to its best. Also, the guy setting up the "Open Microphone" came over and sat down at my table. He seemed very drunk in that way of habitual drunks - not incapable, just befuddled. He engaged me in a conversation which he seemed to have no intention of honouring his side of and I felt like I was being chatted up in some odd way. I didn't like that, not because I object to being chatted up by anyone, my type or not, but because it seemed like "you'll do" was his motivation. His habit of refering to everyone as "Old Chap" was annoying too... I'm getting picky in my old age. I finished my, rather poor, pint, made my excuses and left.

I decided to go into the local Wetherspoons on the way home, but as I walked through the centre of town there was a big group of very lairy, 40ish blokes in front of me, heading in the same direction. They'd have been intimidating at 20, but at 40 you'd have thought they'd have grown out of laddish loutishness. I just got the feeling that one of them would be smacking the crap out of an innocent someone much smaller than themselves later that night. They turned into the pub I was aiming for, I carried on and decided to buy a curry to eat at home.

I had another beer waiting for the curry - and now know that I cannot in anyway hold my ale like I used to. I was decidedly tipsy when I got in. The curry was good, though unusually the bread wasn't as good as it has been every other time I've eaten there. The spinach side dish I ordered on a whim was outstanding though.

Now, maybe its the curry... or maybe it was the cloudy beer... but I didn't dare drive home this morning. There wasn't a loo in the car.

TMI - I know. All ok now.

Depression

Eddie Munster sent me a message today saying that he was having a bad day.
I knew what he meant.
Eddie suffers depression, although he's been ok for longer than I have. From that you'll know I suffer it too.
He was the first of my friends to out himself as a depressive and we were all a bit bemused. He is the richest, funniest, fittest, most attractive, brightest, luckiest out of all the people I know... so what has he got to be depressed about? Well - I think for a long time he was lonely.
Now he is married to a really wonderful woman, and they are expecting their first child. So what has he got to be depressed about?
I don't know.
But I do know that when you open your eyes and that black hole is sucking at your soul - there isn't much you can do to stop it. There are techniques to deal with it, to make the adrenaline go away, to stop the panic... but (in my case at any rate) there feeling that you are shit, not worth it, useless, a drain on the world family friends universe, doesn't go away.

I did what I could - I sent a message back saying "It will be fine" - and hoped that was what he needed to hear. Sometimes it is.

Kisses

My arm was round her shoulders, both her hand holding mine draped over her. It was time to go, people milling around. I went to hug her, and she kissed me. I'd been dying to kiss her all week, but didn't think for a million years she wanted to kiss me. I could hardly believe it. Her mouth opened, our tongues met and I was so shocked I almost toppled over onto her.

We left the pub and walked to her car. "Would you like to go out again sometime soon?", "Yeah" she said shyly, and smiled coyly, so I kissed her. I looked at her and smiled "wow, yeah, want to see you again" she said. So I kissed her again.

I hugged her and tried to kiss her properly. Our lips met, she pushed me away with both hands. "No! I'm sorry, its over, you should go."

We shared a cigarette in a pub in Wimbledon. Too much beer, and a long walk home. Her kiss was nervous, her mouth as thin as she was, but passionate and sexy all the same. We went into her room to keep kissing, but as she lodged with a family I couldn't stay - I remember her body trembling in my arms.

"I can taste me on your lips" she said.
I said the same to her later.

I sat on a wall waiting for the last train. She stood between my legs, hers arms up under my t-shirt stroking my back, me stroking her breast under her jumper. Just kissing.

She was sheltering from the rain under my coat. I was able to loom over her enough to keep her dry. The music was awesome. She looked up, smiled and I bent just enough to kiss her.

"I can't" she said, "I just can't". I didn't move, I just stood and looked at her. "I can't" she said, again. "I know. Its OK." I said. She threw her arms around my and kissed me, her tongue in my mouth surprised me. Several minutes later as we parted briefly I said "I thought you said..." "Shut up!" She kissed me again.

The pub was heaving, New Years midnight, a random girl smiled at me. I smiled back, she stepped nearer and wished me Happy New Year. "Do I get a kiss?" I asked. She smiled again and kissed me, her hand ran through my hair, mine ran down her back, over her arse. She smiled at me again. "This is my boyfriend - I have to go now. Bye. thanks for the kiss." she said. "Hello, Mate... Thank you! And goodbye..."
Later I looked back and wondered if I'd been invited to more, but was too young and naive to notice.

She kissed with her mouth firmly closed. She wasn't at all pretty, but she was sweet. I was mocked in the minibus all the way home.
"I love you" she said.
"No you don't" I thought.
"You are a sloppy kisser" She said. I laughed.
I didn't want to be mean, but I never wrote like I promised I would. Honestly thought it was for the best.

numb time

Too tired for feelings tonight.
Tried to remember a story about student days, but couldn't.
Spent a lot of today wondering where the guys from college are... then realised I can't remember a lot of people from back then. They have become the extras in the movie of my life...
Fuck me, thats profound...

You try not to become your parents... but you do.

We went to a party.
The lad was 18. And we stayed over with the family.
One of the conversations revolved around the boy and friends going to a gig in central London, crashing at someones place, finding their own way home in the morning... stuff like that. Ma and Pa were suitably concerned.
"Who are you going with?"
"Not sure..."
"Where is it?"
"Not sure..."
"What time is it?"
"End of the month sometime..."
"How much are the tickets?"
"Errr... about a tenner?"

I sat listening, trying to keep a straight face.

Mainly because I remember Ma and Pa at the age of about 17 and 21 respectively...
One cold, damp New Year's Eve long, long ago when we shared a house in South London, we went to a pub up town to see the year in. There we met up with several friends.
After a few beers, just as the party was warming up Ma's ex arrived. Pa was just drunk enough to want to kick off as there were a few issues in the history of the three of them. Thankfully we managed to avoid bloodshed, but Ma and Pa decided they would head off back to my gaff for a more private party.
What we didn't know was that as they left they decided to take the two tabs of acid they had been saving to get really out of it as midnight came in.
What they had also forgotten was that I was the only one who had gone out with keys, they had no way to get in when they got back. They remembered as the rounded the corner, with the trips just starting to kick in... This being, of course, long before the advent of mobile phones, they were in trouble. To this day they have no proper idea how they got back in to the house... but all the windows were intact.
When I got in at about 3am, I could hear their, very private, party in full swing.
The next nooning I was sat drinking tea and watching telly when Ma came in wrapped in a towel and nothing else and sat chatting with me for half an hour, doing her best to show just enough without showing too much. She could be a right cow when she wanted to be.

And now they have 3 kids, are as middle class as it is possible to be... But I remember them when they used to rock and roll.

bad start

I woke up over an hour earlier than I needed or wanted to.
The mood is black, nasty and foul.
I feel sick because of adrenaline that is running round me with the anxiety.
I had a moment of "clarity" last night that made me decide on a course of action - this morning it looks cowardly and I've changed my mind.

Essentially I don't want to be me today.
But I don't have a choice, do I?

Nicknames

LBJ has a nickname for me. Apparently I've had it for years, but its news to me!

Oddly enough, I was sending her a text about her BF and a nickname for him jumped unbidden to my mind. It wont stick because its a cruel name... but for a few moments it amused me no end.

I dont understand my weekends...

I get home late on Saturday evening, drink a pint bottle of perry I had in the fridge from a few weeks ago, and chat with Wifey. She's more interested in CSI or NCIS or whatever... It doesn't really interest me. I'm tired and I could do with going to bed - but decide to wait up until we can go to bed together. Meanwhile I check the emails, post something devastatingly witty on Facebook, Twitter a bit -basically waste time.
She comes in, and says she has a headache. A headache so appallingly bad that the sound of my voice is pure agony. I'm not shouting, just saying something like "are you OK?" - but its torture for her. I don't know where the headache came from, but there was no evidence of it while we were watching telly... Unsurprisingly my attempts to cuddle up to her were fought off like I was a Zulu impi and she was defending Rourke's Drift.

So I spent a lot of Sunday on my own, the joy of walking round town and Tescos... A little sleep... Golf on the telly...

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After saving the first half of this post "Bad Man Mode" kicked in. That's the name I give the feeling I get when I can't resist, and I mean I really can't resist doing stuff I know isn't going to help my head, or my relationship.
I start looking at the porn sites, texting people I know flirt a bit too much, looking for any opportunity to misbehave... and to make things worse, I can't find a chance to get myself off and calm down. I'm never alone enough to get rid of the feelings.
So they feed on themselves or on me - circling round like sharks at a shipwreck.
I so want to do the bad stuff.
But there's this bit in me that doesn't want to get caught because that will hurt everyone. So I bottle out. I play safe. I store it up and try to cope without...
And all the time what I want is to find someone to play with. Someone who wont want anything else than some pleasure, fun, mutuality, who wont judge me for feeling this way, or spoil things for me.

Or perhaps I just need to get the nerve to make the jump I should. To quit the normal family life I have and go it alone for my own sake. Then these feelings wouldn't matter - would they?

Either way, it hurts.

Whisky, cigarettes and wild, wild women...

Henry Allingham, The last survivour of the Battle of Jutland and the worlds oldest man has died at the age of 113.
He atributed his longevity to the things listed in the title of this post...

There are now thought to be only two British WW1 survivors left alive. Harry Patch and (the now Australian) Claude Choules. John Babcock of Canada and Frank Buckles of the USA complete the list of 4 men who have been verified as survivng veterans of the Great War.

At times it does me good to remember that however crap I feel I'm not in a trench, or on a ship, under fire, and seeing my mates blown to bits around me... I just have a crap job, not enough money and am a miserable git.

Tea, cricket, golf... could life be better?

Well - yeah.

The plant is fixed, looks like I'll be working until late tomorrow night.
No weekend for me...

Uncertainty

I think its the undertainty I can't cope with...
The not knowing whats going to happen.

The last week at work has been odd as its been broken so we've cleaned as much as we can, got some jobs out of the way, stuff like that. But as I left last night I was in no way sure what I'll face when I go in this afternoon. So I could have spent the whole week trying to find things to do, and I'll end up working on Saturday... Thats my guess...

Trouble is the uncertainty gets to me, really gets me down.
Hence the way I feel this morning.

Alone, but not too lonely.

Have spent the vast majority of the last 72 hours on my own.
There have been a few txts, but almost all conversations were at work, except for the ones that consisted of "No, I'm ok with the packing, thank you", "Do you know where the anchovies are?", and "Thank you" - and they were all in Waitrose.

Oddly enough its been ok. I usually get silly in the mid-40-hour range and start frantically calling, txting, emailing desperate for someone to answer... I sent a few out, but then wasn't bothered when they were greeted with a stony silence.
The most important people to me were still there though.

Back to scrabble on facebook I guess...

Lighting a candle.

LBJ and I had an utterly inappropriate conversation via text, email, Facebook and so on a few weeks ago and one of the things we talked about was kissing. Best, worst, etc...

I woke up this morning dreaming I was kissing someone I was very fond of indeed. Trouble is, she died something over a year ago.
She did kiss me once.

About 3 years ago I was in Tesco's and got a text which said "I have cancer". About a month later she had major surgery, and despite missing a stomach, she seemed to be making a recovery.
Then about a year later I got a call. "The cancer is back, and its not in one place, its in several"
She didn't want to talk to me, she just hung up.
I saw her a few times and then, in the January, I was told she was in Hospital and I should go and see her and the friends she had round her. We all talked for a while. Her BF took me out into another room and told me she had a few months at most. So matter of fact. I guess I was the last to know, and everyone else had sort of got used to it by then... as much as you do.
Visiting time ended and everyone left, but I was allowed to stay a little longer and spend a few minutes alone with her.
We started crying as soon as we were alone. We hugged, cried, hugged, cried... I said "you know I've always loved you?" she laughed, nodded and smiled. I went to hug her and was going to kiss her cheek, and she turned and kissed me. She opened her lips, just the tiniest bit, held the moment for a second, and that was it.
I looked at her, tears rolling down my face, just a little at both the news and the kiss and she said "No more tears. There's been enough crying."
I didn't cry in front of her again. I saved it for the car, for the lift out of the hospital, for the coffee shop, for the funeral, but never in her sight.
About 3 months later I got a call from her friend. "She's gone, mate", I said "I know. I knew when I left her last night it would be the last time I'd see her."

I still miss her. I told Landlady what I'd dreamt when I saw her this morning (I was obviously more upset by the dream than I realised - LL knew I was not myself as soon as she said hello.) LL's advice was "Light a candle"

So I have.

Bonuses

I have a bonus coming in August. Should have had it today but boss is too lazy to be bothered doing the paperwork in time. Well - He has his bonus, so we can get screwed as far as he cares!

So what am I going to spend the (roughly) £1000 I'm going to get, on?
These are the options.

A new laptop/PC.
Repairs to the car.
A dishwasher.
A cooker.
A holiday.
A one way ticket.
Paying my debts.
New glasses.
New shoes.
Theatre tickets.
A meal.
A woman.
Spaceship.
Intergalactic Death Ray
An army of Kung-fu monkey ninjas...

1 - Really, really, really, really, really want to do that.
2 - Pretty much need to do that.
3 & 4 - nice, but the money is starting to run out... already.
5 - Pipe dream.
6 - very,very tempting.
7 - yeah, right, like that's gonna happen or even make a dent!
8 - kinda essential
9 - as above
10 - The Boy never got his birthday trip... better make it up to him.
11 - I think I should be able to keep enough back for a half decent night out.
12 - no... actually... I'm not that serious about that. Would more likely see about one of my options and spend the money on a hotel room.
13 - a bit out of my price range, but maybe a second hand one?
14 - As above... overthrownscifidespots.com might have a few.
15 - Cheap to get hold of, but its the upkeep I'm worried about.


Any other ideas are welcome - please leave them in the comments section with any relevant phone numbers, URLs, details and so on... Thank you!

Growls at the universe... universe pays no attention...

Landlady spent the night here last night, which is unusual for her. Her BF lives a few doors down so I usually see her breeze in, grab something and vanish out of the door.
But last night she was working until 11, and was planning to get up early to complete it.
For some reason she decided not to move the pile of shoes that were on her bed onto the floor before sleeping in it - and so I was woken at 5am by them all clattering and thumping onto the floor above me. Tossed and turned somewhat before managing to get back to sleep at about 6, and woke up again just before 8.

Banality is the theme of today so far.

Two pints of cider, well - perry actually, after work and I'm reeling somewhat.

An odd day at work - the plant has broken down again, and will probably take a while to fix. Cue several crap days and then extra work at the weekend I think.

Asked The Poet if she had a blog today. I kinda thought she would. She doesn't, apparently - but I'd tipped my hand. Now 2 people know I'm writing this. Not sure this was my best move of the day, as I will have to (eventually) direct her to the URL so she can see it.

Got a message from Z and am trying to be casual about answering it - always think there is some sort of agenda with Z. Still not sure what they want me to say to them.

Chatted with LBJ on text and tipped her off about something on the telly over the weekend that she'd missed. Hope it was worth the i-player download!
LBJ's blog today made me cry.

Anything else I could say today would be self pitying bollocks.
It usually is self pitying bollocks - but it would be tasteless and crass to write it,

out of time

I want to write - don't know what, why, or, in fact, anything else, but I feel a really bad need to write write write...

But I have no time. I start work soon and need to get ready.

Damn.

Later, Loyal Reader.

Change of plan

I went to the party. I stayed a short while, as it was already late when I got there.
Was nice to see a few people, had a glass of lemonade, some fried chicken, then I left and went for a night time drive in the rain.
Stopped a few miles out of town on the crest of a hill over looking some pleasant farmland, turned the engine off, opened the window and let the rain in to the car.
The silence was lovely.
Obviously it wasn't 'silence' silence, but it was the absence of human noise. For about 15 minutes there were no cars to hear. There was just the gentle patter of rain on the roof of the car, the occasional Tawny Owl call and the distant barks of Foxes and Muntjac. I just sat and listened.
I saw a couple of owls and a Badger on the drive back to the house.

They were in both bed when I got in, having left the party at about the same time I did. I tried to cuddle up to her, but she said she wasn't feeling well, so I put the light out and went to sleep.

The morning brought a black mood made worse by a mouse in the kitchen. The non-lethal trap hasn't worked... and much as I really, really don't want to - Lethal ones are going down.
I've been up about 4hours, and nobody else is up yet. This is usual when I'm home.
Thankfully the mood has lifted somewhat thanks to the BBC i-player.
A conversation with LBJ via txt and facebook always cheers me up too, and she is on good form the last few days.

Not exactly "Sunday Morning, Coming Down" is it?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_RLiuPRMJy8

They've gone to a party. I couldn't face it tonight.

So I'm spending the evening alone after spending the week alone.

The fact that I'm stressd and horny is not helping my mind set, is it? Is it?

No, its not.

But nothing I can do about it - nothing that will satisfy, anyway...

Deep breath - and surf the net. Forget about it.

Keep calm, carry on.

waking

Woke up to find a text from my lad telling me he would be home soon... didn't wake me up - so thats all good. Snoring from his room indicated he made it ok.
Got a txt from a friend telling me she didn't get into the course she had applied for.
Also got a letter telling me I didn't even get an interview I thought I was a certain to get, and very likely to get the job. So... back to the drawing board.
I work away from home and spend Monday to Saturday in my own place, hence the M1 on a Friday afternoon.

Still tired

All I want to do is have a massage, get laid, and spend the night wrapped up in the arms of someone who is ready to do the same with me.
Unfortunately - nobody wants to do that with me and so it wont happen. Not tonight at anyway.
We have problems. We make love infrequently... if every year or two can be called "infrequently".
I was told recently I wasn't being fair and was putting too much pressure on her. I agree it's unfair but its not me that's being unfair.

There a options. But I haven't quite got the nerve.

So what do I do?
Take the options and risk hurting people?
Carry on strangling in the solitude I hate?

On the plus side...
Torchwood is good.
A glass of perry is good.
Not working tomorrow is good.
A long "father/son" chat with my lad was good.
Cricket is good.
Last nights curry was good.
A firm matress is good.

Tired

It was late before I got to sleep. Gone midnight. And when the alarm went off at 4:50 there were no good words...
Still I managed to shower, shave and pack before getting to work on time.

A slow day at work - the plant is down at the moment so it was a day of cleaning and a few jobs that don't get done in a normal week. Pissed off that my bone idle boss "didn't get round" to getting my bonus signed off. So I will have to wait another month before I get it. Should have known it would happen, its fairly typical.
It should have been done at the end of May, but he's been "Too busy" - not too busy that he couldn't leave early 4 times in the last week or so... but "Too busy" all the same.

...And then there was the journey home. M1 on a Friday afternoon... not a nice place to be.

Now I'm home for a few nights at least.

And so it begins...

I'm starting a blog because... someone told me to.

I'm in my 40s... British... Male... Married... and I am lost in a world, and a life I no longer comprehend.
I can't understand my feelings, my family, what people need, what I'm supposed to do.
Love. Sex. Marriage. Work. Family.

Its complicated.

I am going to write stuff as and when I can and as and when it occurs to me to write stuff... which will not be tonight, it will be another day soon.