We haven't really heard from you recently, are you OK?

The simple answer to that is... Why yes, surprisingly enough I am doing OK.

Things that would have sent me careening off the rails earlier this year are not being such a problem at the moment.

Is it the pills? Could be. Is it the therapy? Not so sure about that. It's a bit of a slog getting through the therapy sessions although my therapist has suggested a more rigorous treatment of which I am a little nervous.  I know that it's up to me and all that and I can call a halt to it if necessary, but I mentioned in my last session that one of my goals is to be well which took her aback a little. I know it's a ver subjective thing and with the whole 'once you have knowledge of a thing it is impossible to un-know it, I would actually like to feel as good as I used to before I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety which isn't going to happen as it is something that I have to live with now possibly for a long time and even then, it'll still be there hanging over my head.

That's something that I didn't originally consider, even if I work at the university for the next 5 years and my sick leave is expunged from the records, would I need to inform prospective employers about the depression and anxiety? My gut says no, why the hell should I, but my head says of course you should. If they want you that badly, they should be aware of it as much as any other medical condition and it shouldn't make a difference. Although the emphasis on that sentence is the word shouldn't. Of course it invariably will have an effect on how I am viewed by a potential employer.

Illness of any sort if it is chronic (and let's face it, depression and anxiety are both chronic conditions that can reoccur) needs to be acknowledged. I heard a radio report a couple of days ago that said that employers must now take into account and encompass obesity related issues into the workplace. I think it's a good idea, but not to the detriment of a person's health. Why then does mental health still have this stigma attached to it? No, I was committed. No, I wasn't suicidal (even though I do know how I would do it down to the last detail. Don't get me started on that one relating to the therapy service blunt scalpel approach to periodic appraisal of a patient). No I didn't want to go into a bell tower and pick people off one by one (well, where can one find a decent high velocity rifle and suitable vantage point in the UK?) I DID feel very low and not worthy of any attention, I let myself go (in fact I still haven't picked myself up on that score as yet). Why then can an employer, potential or otherwise still discriminate on the grounds of mental health. My current employer has been fantastic, however I could just as easily have been sidelined and quietly disposed of somewhere else.

So yeah, I am starting to get back into an even keel and that has been down to an understanding employer and understanding friends and family. When I finally admitted to my parents that I had needed to take some time off for depression and anxiety issues, they were a little confused by it, but backed me all the way. 

I will close by saying one thing. You may have a decent life, you may have the love of a perfect spouse and money in the bank, a roof over your head and a good job, but depression doesn't respect that, anxiety doesn't care about those things, in fact, anxiety can be fuelled by those things. It doesn't matter if you are one of the funniest and most well liked people on this earth, it can get you and twist your noodle into a knot that is impossible to see a way out of. I was lucky, as I caught it in time, that particular worm didn't have a chance to dig it's way too far into my brain, but for others, it is a very real and dangerous thing. Just check with friends that you may not have heard of in a little while, particularly at this time of year. Just a hello, how're you doing is normally adequate they may want to have a bit of a rant, and do you know what? That's OK as far as I am concerned because if they are still ranting, they haven't become hopeless which is a very desperate place to be.

So now, I go back to shouting at motorway overpasses. Have a fabulous winter celebration of your choice. Personally, I have been kicking back and having nothing to do with tradition this year. We haven't even put any decorations up yet!!

It's been a little while

So yeah, it's been a while and I haven't updated. I am still alive, I am still seeing my therapist and the doctor gave me 2 months of citalopram when I spoke to her last. 

How am I doing you ask?

If you are a regular reader of my blog, you will know what I mean when I say not bad with a weird little half smile... I really mean that I am having a difficult time at the moment and I don't want to bring you down with my lunacy, anxiety and depression. So it's just easier to say not bad... People have stopped asking though. On the one hand, this makes it easier to retreat back into my shell and protect myself, on the other I start to feel like they don't actually want to hear how I am doing so they are afraid to ask anymore. 

Recently, I've been feeling quite down, the futility and hopelessness is returning and I don't want it to. I mentioned it to her Ladyship a couple of days ago to let her know that there may be a rough few weeks ahead of us. She took it in her stride as she normally does when I let her know that I am feeling low. To the extent that I was treated with ice cream for pud this evening. 

Speaking of this evening, I got out of the car after coming home and came into the house singing one of the songs that I had heard on Radio 2 on the way home this evening. Ms. J said that she likes to hear me singing as I come in as she hadn't heard it in a long while. I wasn't aware that this was the case, but the more I think about it, the more I think that she is right. By the end of the evening, I had had an argument with my lady about absolutely nothin. That's how quickly my mood can change.

I don't know what to do at the moment. There is a phrase in the North east (we have a lot of phrases) I'm all at sixes and sevens... That's how I feel at the moment. Anything can set me off on a negative or a positive swing. There isn't any kind of trigger that I can see. 

On the plus side, work have been great so far. I have had some of my workload removed from me for a little while. I have a little bit more for the back end of the semester, but hopefully I'll be able to cope with it. 

So there you go, that's what life is like in my little corner of crazy at the moment. Updates will follow as and when I have anything to report.

In the meantime, stay tuned to this channel.

Well that actually happened didn't it?

I wrote a very long blog post about Robin Williams this evening. It was self indulgent and I related his condition to my own in a way that I shouldnt have. His black dog was a completely different breed to mine.

I won't say anything else on the matter except to say that I'll miss your work. Rest easy buddy.

update

I won't post what I want to post here. I want to scream and shout about stuff in general, but I won't. I've now been off for a little while and  I thought that I was getting my head together quite well. As it happens, it was a very fragile thing. I thought I was becoming more grounded and able to cope with stuff. Turns out all it takes is one thing to knock me back to the anxiety that I was experiencing before. The only good thing is that now I can analyse it. I am still anxious, but I can also look at myself from outside and see what is happening. Is this an effect of the increased dose of citalopram? I have no idea.

If I were to analyse this dispassionately, I would say that these things happen, The other side of me (thankfully not as all encompassing as before) says why the hell does it always happen to you though? The paranoid man would think that he was being actively targetted. The truth of the matter is that it's probably going to end up as just one of those things.

I am rambling, but this stream of consciousness rambling is probably helping me no end. I want to get this out of my head before it becomes something that takes root and digs in with insidious tendrils around my brain so that it becomes all encompassing and I start obsessing. I have done this in the past. I don't really mind/care if you are reading this post. I won't be publicising it on facebook and that tends not to draw in the readership so I am pretty safe with this.

I seem to be a victim of poor timing. I have been a victim of poor timing for quite some time now as far as I can tell. Possibly to the point where it couldn't possibly be coincidence any longer and it might start to look like it is purposefully happening. Again with the paranoia? Yep, unfortunately. That's something that is still swirling around the pea soup of my noodle.

I've been considering jacking work in again. Is this mid life crisis? I sincerely hope so. If that is actually the case, it won't last into my later life. I have visions of me at some point in the future yelling at flyovers with a can of stella in my hand. Is that something anyone can identify with? I'm fucking scared. I really am. Am I losing my mind? Is this normal? I wrote a while ago that 'it is a dark time for the rebellion'. I wish the me now could tell the me then that that wasn't darkness. this is darkness. This is hopefully as dark as it gets.

But isn't that what it is before the dawn? I certainly hope so. The sun had better get a fucking move on. I'm waiting here tapping my foot and looking pointedly at my watch.

Just to clarify, I am NOT suicidal. I am far too narcissistic for that.

My grandpappy always said, leave them with a gag (Well he would have if he was on the stage and didn't work in a garage but the sentiment is there and I don't want to fib to anyone)

So here you go...

Two psychotherapists pass each other in the hallway. the first says to the second, "Hello!"
The second smiles back nervously and half nods his head. When he is comfortably out of earshot, he mumbles, "God, I wonder what *that* was all about?"

Why is it so difficult to relax?

The question at the top of the page says it all really. I was asked when signed off for sick leave to not have any contact with my employer for a week. This was achieved with little to no problem. I was then asked to just relax for a little while and to try an not let anything get me wound up. This has proved to be a little more problematic. I find it difficult to sit and watch TV or read a book any more. I have the sense that I should be doing 'something' to ensure that I am not wasting the space that I inhabit. I have been doing some bits and pieces of leatherwork while I have been off. No commissions, mainly purely speculative or developmental stuff so that once I get back on an even keel, I will have some new stuff to show and sell that others haven't considered in the past.

 It's interesting that I am seeing copies of my stuff starting to show up on Etsy from china and Indonesia etc. I don't really mind. In one sense it's flattering that they think the design is good enough to rip off. This hasn't bothered me nearly as much as I thought it would. 

It strange, but looking at how the leather working is going, I wouldn't normally even entertain such notions, but the thought of going self employed has crossed my mind a couple of times recently... Mind you, one thing I learned in business studies is that the person that thinks that he is his own boss if he is self employed is a fool and doomed to inevitable failure. Self employment just means that your boss is every single person that places an order with you! Some may be easy going, some may be really difficult and exacting. I have had a couple of difficult clients recently, one I had to say that I just couldn't work with them because they were asking for something that I was physically incapable of producing. Another was a bit of a disappointment because I just couldn't see a way of resolving the issues that were a part of the brief for a lovely client that I have dealt with before. Even though they were totally understanding about it, I hate letting people down.  As a consequence, I have, while I am mental at least, placed an embargo on commissions. It's just too stressful and comes back down to that boss thing again. 

But I realise that I'm teasing you dear reader a little, you didn't come here to read about my trials and tribulations in leather working... You want to know the gory details about what is happening in my head. I saw the doc last Thursday and she suggested that I remain at the higher dose of 40mg of citalopram for the time being. The side effects are still in evidence. Sleep is almost non existent at the moment and I count myself lucky if I get more than 4hrs per night. I have had a couple of rather worrying spaced out moments. This is part of the horror stories that I read about when I was first reading up about the side effects of citalopram, the haze descends and you feel a bit weird for a while. It's hard to explain, but I think it feels a bit like being a little out of phase with the world. The brain slows down and the best that you can do is just watch as it passes you by. That wasn't a very accurate explanation, but it's the best I can do without the vocabulary to explain it fully. It's not exactly a fugue, but it's a bit more than daydreaming and a little bit disorienting when it happens particularly when I am out without Ms. J to ground me.

You know that feeling when you are standing in the edge of a cliff and there is a little voice in your head that says jump? Yeah, it turns out that it's not a good idea to mention that voice when you are talking to your doctor during these appointments... She suggested that Ms. J should take control of my medication. And she is still very serious about me wanting to harm myself even though I was merely engaging in an academic exercise of considering the best way to do it... Turns out normal people don't think about that sort of thing... Who knew eh?

So, good or bad, the increase in dosage is certainly doing something to my brain chemistry. I have just over a week and a bit of this sick note remaining, the doctor is quite happy to sign me off for another month if it is necessary, but I feel a little crappy about leaving work in the lurch, so might get in touch with them to see if I can arrange a phased return.

So, yeah, that's about it for this instalment. Stay tuned, same bat time, same bat channel for more updates as and when they arrive.

rollercoaster rides

Update on this week...

The stoooory so far... After the meltdown in a staff meeting earlier this week our intrepid hero decided that work was one of the major contributing frustrations and was not allowing him to work through the issues that he was having. The way things were going, he would have been up a bell tower with either a long rope or a high powered rifle by the end of the week. At this point, he decided that it wasn't in his best interests to remain in work and made an appointment with the doctor to see if he could get a sick note.

Aaaand now, the exciting conclusion to this chapter.

The doctor suggested that my meds be upped to a double dose and signed me off for a month. She told me to not even think about work for a week, no e-mails, no contact at all there were a couple of revelations in that appointment, for me and for Ms. J who had accompanied me. As a consequence, for the past few days, I've been working on stuff that doesn't tax my brain. The leather work that I do, could be regarded as a type of therapy for me. I can get out of my brain for a little while and be creative. Thing is that if I am working on commissions, I get stressed with getting it right for the client, so I've decided to knock the commissions on the head for the time being. I'll still make new stuff, but it's going to be either selling from stock or on the stall... This means that I am going to have to keep a tighter control of stock levels on the Etsy and on the other selling sites that I use.

The insomnia appears to be never ending at the moment and I am getting about 4 hrs per night. On the plus side, due to upping my meds, the lack of appetite seems to have kicked in, so that might be something that I can get under control.

So yeah, rollercoaster or what this week... Ms. J has remained a constant levelling influence.
I love that woman!

The hardest thing to do is realising that you need time to heal.

That turned out to be the hardest e-mail I have ever composed. Admitting to my line manager that I have some serious problems and need some time off to see if I can work them out. I realise that my job is a grounding thing, and that it helps me with a routine, and that I have just done the thing that I feared most. Asking for sick time.
Those of you that know me, know that I am a pretty self reliant person and my upbringing doesn't tolerate weakness in any form. Well, today I am at my weakest out of the is whole experience. I feel as though I am shrouded in eggshell and to drop me would result in scrambled Mark.

I hope work are understanding. They are traditionally very good at recognising mental health issues.

I didn't want it to come down to this as my position is a little precarious at the moment, but that is the very thing that is exacerbating the problems that I am experiencing. I dunno. After the outburst at a meeting yesterday, I don't feel as though I can go back and act as though nothing happened. It may seem like going into hiding, but I am not sure if they had been briefed as to my looney toons status.

Chemically, I am still experiencing side effects to the citalopram and maybe this episode has been heightened due to the lack of sleep that I've been experiencing as a result of the medication. There is also a very frustrating side effect that au won't go into details with, but suffice to say that some of the chemical make up of the drug is bromide which hasn't helped either.

What's the solution??? I dunno to be honest. Maybe change medication, maybe stop it altogether as the positives are beginning to get swamped by the negatives. I tried getting an appointment to see the doctor today, no luck. I'll try again tomorrow though.

Fucking, Fuck work! Fucking Fuck!

Well there's a thing... I thought I was doing fantastically... Well, I was doing fantastically until job changes reared their ugly little heads. The anxiety descended until I exploded during a staff meeting and suggested that I submit my resignation. There are big changes coming over the horizon with my job and I am not sure that I like these changes. If merely discussing the changes is doing this to me, what the hell is planning for and implementing them going to do to my mental health??? I think the time has come to possibly think about taking some time on the sick as I am just getting worse with this crap that's happening.

I don't like to load this shit onto my colleagues, but the changes have been compounded with other problems directly relating to my work environment and work life that have been growing and growing for the past few years. Does anyone know anything about career breaks or sick time?

4 weeks in, the drugs do work! In your face The Verve!

Can it really only be 4 weeks since I started taking the happy pills?

Blimey!

I have to say that I feel a hell of a lot better in myself. A case in point was the other night when I was performing. I screwed up one of the effects which would have sent me to pieces and jarred my confidence before I started taking the medication. It barely stopped me in my stride. I just shrugged it off and moved on. Afterwards, I didn't beat myself up about it. I didn't go into a huge post mortem of it on the way home, I just accepted that sometimes stuff happens that is outside your control and moved on... This may sound like pretty small potatoes to some people. But to me, this is a huge revelatory thing and is proof positive that the drugs really do work. Yes, I am still having irrational bouts of anger and negative emotions, but they are becoming few and far between.

On the plus side, I think my confidence is building back up again to the point where I don't feel the need to be affirmed for every decision that I make which is having a knock on effect with the creative work that I am doing. New designs are coming thick and fast from Broadarrow Jack and I will be premiering some new stuff at events and stalls over the coming few months.

There have been some negative side effects that have been in evidence, some quite embarrassing. I tend to sweat a lot more noticably now and as a consequence, I don't want to do some stuff because of the very obvious over sweating. I am assured however that the majority of this will calm down and probably get back to normal. I don't mind the negative side effects as much, because the positive effects that the drugs are having are absolutely fabulous. And the best thing of all, I haven't had to have any time off work as a result of this whole process. I may be asking for a bit of extended leave at some point in the future so that I can actually relax for a while without worrying about work and how secure my job is etc. but that is for the future and who knows what that holds...

this may be my last blog post for a little while as the worst of the hurdles are over with I feel. I will keep updating as and when I feel that I have something to report.

Other than that I don't want to keep reporting situation normal blogs Developments are interesting to read about. What I had for my lunch and what time that I got to bed last night are pretty boring for everyone (myself included). So, thank you all for following the process that I've been going through from the very bottom of my bottom, please feel free to keep it on a back burner and I will update everyone on the Facebook if I blog up again.

Peace!

Two weeks in... There is no spoon

Well, two weeks into the prescription and there have been a few things that have given me cause for concern. I won't talk about all of them because I don't think that is appropriate. Suffice to say that with Citalopram, I began to experience some interesting (although not entirely unpleasant) side effects. There are one or two worrying side effects however. As a person that needs to mark work and give detailed feedback, I have experienced (over the past couple of days) a general fog when it comes to formulating words and marshalling them into a coherent thought process. This is a pretty bad thing as the feedback that I give has got to be detailed and provide the student with a good idea of where they have excelled or where they are going wrong.
The blog is slightly different as I don't need to be quite so focussed with it.
One of the other things that I have noticed is that I haven't been experiencing a balancing of moods, I've been as depressed or as angry etc. as I have been all through this process, but the bouts of extreme emotion have been lasting a shorter and shorter time. This is very much in the plus column as far as I am concerned. I have been genuinely smiling a lot more since starting on the pills, however the bouts of positive mood have been becoming shorter and shorter too. Leaving me with a sort of low grade ennui. I'm not sure that I like it to be honest. But if this is what is necessary to give the therapy a chance to work then I suppose that I have to weather the storm. Concentration has been an issue at work. If I am doing physical work then I am OK, sitting and reading is not going well (back to the problems generating feedback). Prior to the advent of the pills, I had no trouble at all with reading the work of students and generating pages of feedback for them...

so yeah, just a quick update. I'll post something more meaty once the first course has been taken (I still have 2 weeks left of this course) with some detailed pro's and con's as when I was first looking into the possibility of citalopram, I tended to find either personal accounts of negative experiences or clinical accounts of positive experiences... There didn't seem to be much in the way of a personal analysis from both sides looking at it objectively. Hopefully, I'll be able to bridge that gap.

Time to grab the bull by the horns and all that

A few weeks since my last blog post. Thanks for the well wishes everyone. I know that you are still rooting for me even though my head is still saying "They're at the brink of not giving a shit about your mental shenanigans any more, give it up you hack!"
And that in part is the reason for the blog today.
Tackling the problem head on. Taking the medication that was prescribed to me last year by the doctor (Who really does know better than I do despite my protestations).
Everyone has said, if you're sick you take the medication, if you have diabetes, talking about it won't help with it getting better. In this instance I have come to the conclusion that I need to step down off my high fucking horse and listen to the experience of other people. I thought I knew my own mind, turns out I was just being stubborn and pig headed.

So yeah, I might be a bit funny for a couple of weeks as the drugs start to work their magic. I have no idea about how (if any) the side effects will affect me but the more common ones are dry mouth (solution: Have a bottle of water with me at all times) and potential stomach churning leading to nausea (solution: stop eating all of the pies and then I won't have as much to throw up if I need to). which has an added bonus of possibly less food going in my talking hole and as a result, I might lose a little weight which in turn will lead to a boost in self confidence etc. (Hey, I can turn anything into a positive, or not as the case may be.)

I'll still be doing the talking therapy/CBT (NOT the compulsory basic test for motorbikes OR the naughty winky torture for the BDSM inclined, get your filthy mind out of the gutters) and I'll keep up with the blog as and when to chart my progress.

So, here's hoping that it'll be a positive step in the right direction.

Let's face it, it couldn't get much worse than it has been recently.

In other news, I have another magic gig in June so getting back on the horse there too. Who knows where it will go after that as that's the last firm booking this year after other things fell through etc. We'll see. Maybe it'll go on hiatus while I develop some new effects. Maybe, I'll keep adapting stuff to my own nefarious ends, maybe, it'll fizzle and go pop... That's for the future and who the hell knows what the future holds.

Wish me luck guys.

Oh and I've just realised that the blog has now had over 1,000 views. That seems to be a cause for celebration, but then as this about my inner anguish and turmoil, it says more about the ghouls who read these pages than it does about my writing style. You should be ashamed of yourselves and stop reading the blog right away!!!
Please, disregard that previous statement. Don't stop reading the blog!

Ermmm....

Look, hand puppets!

*Scarpers!*

It's been a month or so. How's it going? You still looney toons?

Blimey! Has it really been a month since my last post? Well no, slightly longer than that, but I'm sure that you know what I mean.

What's been happening you ask? What's the latest juicy little tidbit of information that the Black Dog has been getting up to with me recently?

Well, there is a reason that I haven't updated in over a month. I haven't felt up to it. I had a few set backs recently and I have been looking at the way that I dealt with them. The short answer to that is 'not well'.

There is a support network that has grown up around me, people are generally still in the caring phase rather than the 'just fucking get over it already' and 'are you still fucking mental or what?' phases. It's been a testing time really. I can see that some friends are becoming weary of the constant paranoia and in-securities that I've been displaying recently.

On the plus side, I have made a decision... Remember waaaaaay back when I first started the blog? When I said that I didn't want to go down the chemical route? Well, I've decided to do a U-turn on that one. The paranoia is getting worse. The therapy sessions are too few and far between to be of any real use as I can't actually remember from one session to the next what the hell I was supposed to be doing, (Did I mention that I have memory problems too? Well I do.)

So as a coping mechanism and just to give my loved ones a little respite, I've decided that it's in everyone's best interests if I give the Citalopram a go. I'm not particularly happy about it as it feels as though I am giving in and letting the chemicals take hold, but after talking to some good friends over this past weekend in Whitby, who have been on the receiving end of this form of treatment (as well as the talking therapies), they recommended it to me and this time, I think it sank in.

So I have no idea how the pills will affect me, for some people, it's like a chemical cosh for a couple of weeks while the drugs suffuse throughout the body while they make their presence known, with others apparently, it's hardly felt other than the positive benefits. I have to admit, when I was originally researching the drug that I was prescribed, I did tend to lean more towards the darker and less than positive websites to justify my decision.

So, that's it, shit got bad, as bad as it could get for a little while where I really was rocking backwards and forwards in my chair, but (and I hate myself for using buzzwords and bizniz speak) it's time to be proactive, time for me to stop the fucking moping around and get on with stuff. I have had a real problem with motivation recently and the completion of a couple of larger orders and one of the longer term display pieces for exhibitions etc. have helped me get back on an even keel. I'm not there yet, but hopefully, the pills will help.

Here's hoping. The next blog may be written from the asylum using my allotted weekly internet kitten credits! We shall see. I was going to write 'Kill or Cure' there, but I'm not sure that is appropriate.

Wish me luck Oh and a Happy Beltane to all of my pagan chums. Here's hoping that the lighter days bring lighter moods for all!

For better or worse...

There is a two pronged attack in that statement. The words that you are legally required to speak to your future spouse and the fact that sometimes, no matter what, you can't take it back.

This weekend saw me at my very lowest ebb. I had a large setback with career prospects and on Saturday night, I had what can only be described as the longest and slowest train wreck in history. My mentalism act was beset with problems and despite what others have said about it, it is down to me that it went wrong. 

So, for better or worse, I am not removing the post I put up yesterday as it contextualises how I was feeling yesterday while the wound was still very much open, raw and pulsating. It can be found here: http://nottrikk.blogspot.co.uk/2014/03/time-to-take-stock.html?m=1

I have had an opportunity to take stock of the events of the weekend and the 1 positive thing that I can take from this whole episode is that if I can count on anything, it's the support of friends, particularly my best friend. Jeanette puts up with too much. She is always there for me and when I am firing on all cylinders, we are an excellent team. I just want to say here and now that I hope there isn't much worse and considerably more better from now on.

Special mention goes to the grizzly bald headed bloke. What you did was very appreciated and I felt the weight of all of my friends love in that hug.

Time to take stock

Last night was a pretty big deal for me. I was performing to a large crowd at an event. A number of things went wrong.

Well, I say a number of things, mostly all of it went wrong. Some of it was the fault of poor audience management, some of it was nerves, still some of it was the inability to perform my act with one hand wrapped around a microphone. (The lapel mic that I was given crapped out after about 3 lines into the performance). Practical upshot was that none of the effects worked that well and a couple of them fell flat on their arse. The crowd may have been too embarrassed for me to boo, but as the act dragged on and another issue befell me, it became a long, slow house of cards tumbling down until there nothing but a pile of crap left.

The fact that I had been knocked back pretty badly earlier in the week meant that I wanted this performance to go really well so that I could have a bit of a high spot this week. I think that was my first mistake. The fact that I had built it up to be something that has to happen meant that I was so nervous of what could go wrong. Which inevitably happened. A self fulfilling prophecy if you will. 

I fully expect never to be called back by the organisers and I really couldn't blame them after yesterday evening's debacle.

I should never have stepped onstage to be honest. I am a pretty good theatre technician. I work better in the dark. I should have been content with that and let others take the applause and adulation. 

That isn't strictly what today's blog is about. 

Today's blog is about self destructive behaviour. 

The fact that everything had to go right last night to bring me back up after the low of earlier this week and then it going completely Pete Tong meant that I was in a pretty bad place last night. I thought I had felt low in the past, but last night's black dog spanned chasms of which I was at the bottom.

I hoped I could ride it out, I hoped that the talking therapy would help me. That the CBT might give me the tools to bring me back. That hasn't happened. My destructive self has meant that I am now seriously considering the mood stabilisers again that I was prescribed waaaay back when.

I hate feeling this way. I am pushing my friends away (despite what I said in my previous blog). Jeanette is, as always, a constant though.

As a slight aside, I have been talking to a few people recently who have said that they like reading the blog, they don't comment either here or on The Facebook when I announce it. This is perfectly fine. I have no problem if only a few people read it, you don't need to post an 'Amen Brother!' to it. If you get something from it then that is the point. To be able to identify a little with what is happening to me and maybe not feel alone. 

There is a saying that I'm not sure is that widely used outside of the North-East, "misery loves company". I use it myself from time to time. Possibly not in the most appropriate of surroundings sometimes I will admit as it sounds really negative. The original intention of it was to alert others to the fact that if someone is miserable, they want to bring everyone else down.

But I don't actually think it has to be taken as a negative. There is an affirmation in that statement. Affinity and identification. If you identify with someone, you are like minded. Get a few more people together and you become a group. Still more and you have the makings of a movement. 

That's the way that I take that statement now. Maybe not the original intention, but I can choose to alter the emphasis if I want!

Sorry, that was less if a side note and more of a serious tangent there. 

Back on track. Self destructive behaviour is a dangerous spiral. One that I was riding helter skelter downwards last night. Black mood, arguing with friends and Jeanette, drinking to excess, generally not being a pleasant chap. I'm sure you get the picture. I don't know if it's a part of the human condition that you have to go through that to ride the slide all the way to the bottom, or choose to check out half way down. Maybe the chemical alternative is that checking out.

Is it worth stepping away for a little while? Giving the mind a holiday? 

I can't remember the last time I gave the body a holiday, time away to really relax. It's been rehearsals and making and stress for the past few years. Also a form of self destructive behaviour as far as I am concerned. We give the excuses that I work 9-5 without the ability to take time off inside term time and Jeanette works a bizarre shift pattern. 'It's difficult to schedule' we opine! Is this just an excuse? Surely if we really want to do something so badly, we would just go and do it?

Seems not. Wonder why that is?

Time to give the mind a break I think. Some time to heal and re-group.

Applications and rejection: a perspective post.

So, just heard back from a job application I put in... They certainly didn't hang around telling me that I didn't get an interview. Applications only closed on Monday.

In one respect, I feel rejected, dejected and really, thoroughly not wanted.

On the other hand, I'm not working in Games workshop or on the dole. I have a job and while I am at the top of my current job tree and getting restless, I still have what I have. A roof over my head, a (goodish for now) job and the love of a good woman, supportive friends and family. So I suppose, there's nothing really for me to feel sorry for myself about.


So why do I?

I think it stems from the fact that the job that I applied for was pretty much written for me. Design experience, costume experience, puppetry experience, teaching and curriculum development experience.  Everything I have, in spades. And they didn't even give me a fucking interview. To be rejected in the first round of applications and not even getting to the first interview where I could have a chance to shine.

It might be the black dog towering above me now, but I haven't been as low as I am right at this moment. After I received the news, I was actually considering going home for a little while so that people wouldn't see me hugging myself and rocking backwards and forwards in my seat (Although this is, I suppose, a digital version of that) I was seriously close to it. I went out at lunchtime to get some of the sunshine into me to see if that would help and for the first time in nearly 1.5 years, I almost caved in and bought cigarettes. I know it would make me feel even worse, but that chemical nicotine rush would be worth it wouldn't it?

There is no pithy end to this one, no bon mot at the end of the tale to make it worth the read... Sorry, but that's life isn't it? Sometimes it rips the fucking floor from under you.

Alienation

Oh right! You are talking my language now! Alien Nation, loved the movie, the TV show was a bit pants and went on for a little too long, but the concept was brilliant and I think went on to inspire the likes of District 9 etc.

No, not that Alien Nation you wally, 

Alienation: (n), The feeling that you have no connection with the people around you. 

Depressed people frequently feel a sense of alienation from those around them. (My emphasis)

It's all about perception isn't it if I call someone and it goes to voicemail, I can think one of two different things, either they hadn't heard the phone or it was on silent, OR they are deliberately screening their calls and not Wanting To Talk To Me. AND, OH GOD! WHY DOES EVERYONE HATE ME SO MUCH?

I'm sure you get the the point. It's the nagging doubt that maybe people have no time for you and your depression is the only thing they see when they picture you. Whether this is actually the case is open to interpretation, but one of the things that people who are depressed tend to do is to pre-empt this alienation. It's going to happen anyway they believe, so they have to control it by being the instigator. Maybe this is just me talking here, but there is little enough that I feel that I have control of with my mental health, one thing that I feel that I can control is something to hang onto even if it is a self destructive thing.

I have spoken to other people in the past about this, I won't mention individual cases as it's really not my intention to out people, but it think that the control issue is perhaps one of the major triggers that a depressed mind will dwell upon the most. It may be body issues or substance abuse etc. but as long as there is one thing that the depressed mind can get a hook into and control (or have the illusion of control) then the world can be coped with. Some people manage to live like this for years (or so I have read) quite manageably, but others don't cope well with it. I think I am in the latter camp. 

I have talked in the past about the electronic support network, about paying it forward and random acts of kindness which I occasionally have to be reminded about, (thank you to my lovely wife for that) I have talked the talk but I have not walked the walk. I have systematically alienated friends as a pre-emptive strike against them distancing themselves from me. I am not proud of this fact. But it's there and a fact. I don't know if I can do anything about it other than to say this (and I can say it here because I am not sitting across a table from you or in your front room playing Xbox (or your game platform of choice)). If it appears that I am pulling away from you or the group. I may in fact be trying to do the opposite. My whole being may be screaming at me that I don't want to do this apart from that little corner of the mind that appears to be in control of my mouth and actions who is saying 'do it to them before they do it to you. It's inevitable you know, everything you do either turns to shit or is so half arsed that people are laughing at you behind your back. Fuck 'em. Listen to me, I have the inside track on what people are really like.

Oh, sorry... Did I mention the paranoia too? I forgot about that... That potent little double barrelled  cocktail of paranoia and self loathing. A heady mix and one that can make you do things that you really oughtn't be doing.

Yes, I may come off as aloof in social gatherings if I don't know you that well, I just don't want to open up. Call it upbringing, call it an inability to cope with emotions. A friend mentioned that we are all high functioning autistic to varying degrees. I don't have any medical research to back that claim up of course, but it certainly feels right. A way to mentally level the playing field. I am just as screwed up as everyone else, but they can either hide it better or are not aware of it in as much detail as I am. 

Where was I going with this? I think It actually ended up as a tangential riffing monologue based on my recent practises of figuratively pushing people away. I had a bad week this week for no apparent reason, I've done a little bit of reading on it and apparently, brain chemistry can change quite rapidly. Leading to mood swings. It was the first time that I had ever felt something like that. Going from being quite buoyant to black despair in the space of about 30 minutes. It was quite scary to be perfectly honest and reading the blog back that I wrote while it was happening is a little more laying my soul bare than I originally intended to be on here. But I digress. Scary scenes inside the gold mine and all that guys. Hopefully, now that I have experienced the rapid escalation of the black dog, I will be able to see it in future for what it really is. Brian chemistry and a deficiency of some description.

The TL:DR of it is that if people appear to be pushing you away, ask them. They may not want to be doing it or they may genuinely have issues... Whatever happens, the issue has been brought to the front of conversation and can be dealt with there and then.

Please just fucking talk about it people! Don't let it fester! You are my friends for a reason.

What the hell just happened?

Warning! From here on in there be swearing, lots of it. 

have no idea what happened on the way home this evening.

It was as if someone just pulled the plug out of the sloshy bath of happy that I'd been building up over the past few weeks.

I just want to stick two fingers up at the world this evening and say FUCK YOU!!!

And I have no reason for feeling like this. None whatsoever. So I ask again? What the hell happened? I don't have an answer. And that pisses me off even more. If I had a reason for feeling this shitty then it may be better as I could actually do something about it. With this situation I can't do a bloody thing. It's so frustrating and that is exacerbating things too.

So how about I put my toys back in the pram and put my big boy pants on and suck it the fuck up? I could, but how the hell did I get in this state in the first place? Is this going to be a regular thing. 

I know the therapy is starting to get a bit frustrating but that was at the end of last week.

The only positive out if this is that it can only get better cos it couldn't get much fucking worse.

Looking back

Warning, there will be a certain amount of laying my soul bare in this blog. i have come to terms with it, but if you don't wNt to know, stop reading now. you have been warned!

Well, since I started this Blog about 2 months ago, I can't believe the progress that has been made. The catalyst for beginning on this journey was a particularly bad experience that I had on New Year's Day. At that point, I was a bag of neuroses and anxiety. In thE intervening time, I have had some changes. The therapist that I was seeing has moved on and I am with a new person at my local surgery. He challenges me and makes me analyse the problem in a very detached way. I think that this is helping although during the sessions, it does get a little frustrating when I don't have a response to a question and have to ask him to re-phrase it. My first session with this therapist was a lesson in 'why the fuck am I doing this?' We talked about the insomnia that I had been experiencing for the whole of the session. Nothing about depression or anxiety. It was slightly bewildering, but when I came away from it, I realised that he had been attempting to tackle the problem obliquely by looking at one aspect and then addressing whether it is a cause of a symptom. Very clever. But then in the next session, we were still talking about the insomnia (which had by then abated. I am still filling inky sleep diary and I have no idea why... There is probably a very good reason for this to continue, but I confess to being unable to see it.

So, fast forward... There are things on be horizon which I don't want to discuss just yet which may mean a significant change in my life. Which may be just what I need. 

This past couple of months has been a very scary time with me moving a long way out of my comfort zone that I have built up around myself. I have begun to hug people. Strange as it may sound, I will never initiate a hug with anyone other than immediate family. I will reciprocate if someone hugs me, but I have a problem with physical touching. Since January, I have on a couple of occasions initiated a hug with people outside of my immediate family. I still wouldn't be able to hug relative strangers, but each to their own. 

Other comfort zone busting stuff:

Interacting socially with people without my buffer (Jeanette) being present. If you know Ms. J, you will know that she didn't kiss the Blarney Stone so much as bite a chunk off it. She is comfortable in virtually any social situation and can talk to anyone. I normally leave the social stuff to her and only speak when I am spoken to. This is an arrangement that works very well. I know I am socially awkward, I didn't develop in the same way as others socially. When others were going out and partying and generally having fun with their peers and members of the opposite sex, I was sitting either in a movie cinema watching g the silver screen or in my bedroom watching videos  of comedy and movies. I watched and re-watched movies. 

I didn't need other people when I had my buddies on the screen. Nowadays, I find it difficult to talk to people who I haven't talked to before. This is one of the challenges I set myself. Talk to someone each day in a social setting. It might be asking the checkout person how their day is going, it might be in a professional context. But I have been doing it and have come to the conclusion that we are all just winging it and playing everything by ear. Some are better at it than others. Some are awful. I am pretty much firmly rooted in the latter category, but I am getting better slowly.

On the plus side, my creativity has gone through the roof and I am coming up with new ideas and designs left, right and centre.

Tomorrow I get to go to my first group therapy thing. Not a clue what this is going to be like, but because of my love of film etc. I am envisaging a cross between something from one flew over the cuckoos nest and Glengarry Glenross. More to follow if I think it is appropriate tomorrow evening.

I need to do something completely frivolous and inconsequential

Yes, ermmm... Hello. 

Well, another week is over and another therapy session is under my belt. It's all gone a bit strange to be honest. I wasn't really sure what to make of it truth be told. The new therapist certainly had a very different approach to the previous therapist. This one likes asking questions rather than just chatting with me. Who knows where the thing will end up, but I am doing a sleep diary for the next couple of weeks. I'm not sure if this guy is seeing the insomnia as a cause of the depression and anxiety or a symptom. I think we may be putting the cart before the horse a little, but I defer to the experience of trained professionals and will ride it out.

That wasn't the reason for this post this evening though. Again dear readers, the insomnia has taken hold and I find myself with a racing mind.

I had a new book delivered today after recommendations from a number of people.

Guillermo Del Toro's cabinet of Curiosities looks to be a very interesting read and I look forward to dipping in and out of it (it's not really a book to read from cover to cover to be honest). But it has certainly got the creative juices flowing and I realised that I hadn't made anything that wasn't intended to go on-sale or as a gift for friends or whatever for a very long time indeed. I started on a new pair of goggles after my old pair were lost on the Congo river rapids at Alton Towers (a painful story that I don't want to go into at the moment as the wounds are still raw! ;) ) but the lenses were done and the project was abandoned in favour of other stuff. There was the recreation of a Victorian grave bell that I was making up that also hit snags and is still in pieces in my office.

I've come to the conclusion that I need to look into a new and exciting build. One that is not for any other reason than to inspire wonder in others. It won't be for sale, it might not even work, but I have to try. 

Now, I just need that one spark of inspiration. That creative fizzle that catches the imagination and sets the brush aflame. This is pretty much the sticking point with the majority of the stuff that I do. It's either derivative, an homage to or (in the very rare occasion that it is truly original) likely to be left unfinished.

It's slightly demoralising, but I am determined this time to get something off the ground that I can say"that's mine that is. Something that people will come across on google images in a few years time and say 'I've just found this, isn't It cool?' I'm talking about my Datamancer laptop or Herr Doktor's space helmet. I did enjoy a little notoriety with my little and larger amplifiers a few years ago, and the large amp is still on the top couple of pages if you do a google image search for Steampunk amp.

But what to make? I have been kicking an idea around for a little while, but it's very large and I wouldn't be able to transport it very easily as most of my stuff is rather smaller and portable...

I think I may need to ponder this for a little while...

Talk amongst yourselves...

It's been a funny old few weeks really.

Be prepared for a rollercoaster ride of a blog this time. Loads of stuff to talk about. Lots of different areas  to talk about too. Like an octopus playing the drums (Prizes for guessing the film etc...)

Well, it's been a couple of weeks and I've been frantically making stuff both for a couple of commissions and for the stall.
This weekend just gone was the first stall of the year. Down in Bournemouth at the SF Ball. It was, as usual, an eye opener and there were some genuinely wonderful people there. The attendees were enthusiastic (as only a con attendee can be) and the stall did OK as an opener to the season. I certainly broke even (which is all I ever want to do really) So all was good with the world. Which kind of leads me on to the depression thing again. Over the past few weeks (since my last blog post) I've been experiencing something very strange. It's like I've been medicating but without the medication. I haven't exactly been joyful, but the depression has receded enough to be able to look down on the black dog for the first time in a number of months rather thna it towering above me. He's no longer all encompassing and I've been smiling as well. Somethings that I felt that I had to force have been coming naturally.
I know that others take this for granted, but it really is a revelatory thing for me at the moment and I just wanted to mark the moment with a little flag.

This leads me on to the thing that I mentioned in my previous blog... Random acts of kindness. I have started the process. I'm not sure how big or small it is, but hopefully the recipient will appreciate it.

Have you been keeping up with your random acts? Have you really? Be honest now... you'd forgotten all about it hadn't you? It's OK, you don't have to, it's completely voluntary and not binding at all. (a bit like Activia or so I'm told ;) )

So that's the first thing that has happened. It's not a huge thing, but hopefully ripples will form as a result.

4 more to go... It could be you. Or you... Not you though... I see what you do at night you filthy little pixie. I'm here to tell you that you'll go blind if you don't stop it immediately!

Where the hell did that come from? I started channeling my long dead great grandfather I think.

Which leads me onto the next thing I wanted verbally assault your cerebral cortex with today.
As some of you may or may not know, I have an alter ego (What? Just the one? are you sure there's only tthe one back there kicking his heels?) His name is Corvus Marconi (I have some good friends to thank for the name), It's a great name and it allows me to be not me if you know what I mean. Corvus, (or Doctor Corvus Marconi as he is sometimes called) is a bit of a mentalist and worker of magics and stuff, he concentrates on mentalism (I always say it's because he's rubbish at sleight of hand, which is kind of true). that I just couldn't get away with. It's definitely a character that I have a certain amount of fun with. It's a bit strange when I am developing the effects If I do it as myself and I trip over words and get stuck in explanations, when I drop into Doc C. it's a lot smoother. He has the confidence gene I think.

But anyway, I digress. He has put himself up for nominations (And I do mean that he has done it rather than me. If you are friends with me and Dr. Marconi on Facebook, you will see that I am quite embarrassed at his shenanigans). He's put himself up asking for a number of nominations for the steampunk chronicle awards. Both 'Person to watch 2014' and Performance artist (non music) (or something like that). The weird thing is that I was watching him do this on Facebook and I wasn't entirely sure if I was actually doing it or he was doing it through me. That was a bit of a scary moment when I realised that I had a persona that I identify with and aspire to in my normal life who acts with a certain amount of autonomy. Those of you who know me know that I am never the person to push myself forward into the limelight of the worldwide stage (albeit in a niche genre thing). To be totally honest with you, it is something that really gives me the screaming heebie jeebies!

So why did I do it? Did I do it or did he? I certainly don't have the answers, but If you'd like to nominate him, have a look at his Facebook page for the suggestions for nominations (even though I don't want to) Dr. Corvus Marconi on Facebook

I was going to talk about the weather and the flooding, I was also going to talk about low mood in relation to the season and other factors, but I think I now need a lie down in a darkened room after that revelation. I expect to hear the sirens and see the men in white coats with the big butterfly nets coming to get me very soon.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hnzHtm1jhL4

It's 3am, I need to be up in 4 hours. Sleep, why do you elude me?

This might turn into a rambly incoherent sweaty toothed mad man blog this evening. Around twice every year, I have an absolutely marvellous visit from the insomnia fairy. I just can't sleep and it's not even because the clowns will eat me if I do! This normally culminates in a couple of days where I get no sleep whatsoever. I find that it's the only way that I can turn my body clock around. 

It's just that this period normally ends up with me at my most creative. This time has been different however. I haven't been able to motivate myself to do anything much. I've procrastinated and I've gazed at my navel and not got anything done. I missed my last therapist appointment today by the way. I completely forgot about it, I tried ringing the surgery to apologise, but the therapist had already left for the day. I really hate letting people down and even though it was in my diary on my phone, I missed it due to being engrossed in marking. Not sure how I feel about it to be honest. Even though I've been doing OK recently, I still don't feel that great in myself. I am constantly paranoid and in-secure. It may be because I am a youngest child. Maybe not. On occasion, it feels as though I am being a whiny arsehole. I don't mean to sound like that, I really don't. Although the support that I receive as a result of the ostensibly whiny posts does give me the warm fuzzies. I would like to share with you an instance of truly wonderful people at this point. This relates directly to me for a change. Yeah, Like this blog isn't just about me anyway??! One of my favourite quotes from the Hitchhikers guide to the galaxy is a line from Zaphod Beeblebrox "If there's anything around here that's more important than me, I want it caught and shot!"

Stop digressing You wanker!

Sorry...

Anyway, I have been commissioned to make some pouches for a magic colleague. Never met the man, but we share a common ground in our mutual love of feats of legerdemain. So we get to talking and it turns out that he reads the blog too. No names. Etc. he tells me that he has a new CD coming out and he would like me to have a copy to see if it helps with the stress. Gratis. For no other reason that he saw another human in distress and wanted to help. I know a lot of my friends do similar just by being there, but this chap is someone that I don't know, he didn't have to, he wanted to. I was genuinely touched by this offer of a helping hand. 

I decided at that point that I was going to pay that act of selflessness forward. I will be doing a number of stalls this year and I will decide on the time and place, but there will be at least 5 acts of  random kindness perpetrated on the general public 

This is my promise here and now to you. Paying it forward, (not only was it an awfully mawkish and sentimental movie) it heals the soul. It makes you feel good and the recipient feel good too and slowly that good feeling spreads. Like a field of mushrooms (seriously? A field of mushrooms? Where the hell did that analogy come from? Oh yeah, right, 3am babbling, gotcha.)

I hope that they will go forward and pay their random acts of kindness forward too. I would like to think that it might make a difference, that it might even spread the warm fuzzies a little. If everyone does perform 5 entirely random acts of kindness with no ulterior motive, it should come back around fairly quickly.

After all, we're all only 6 degrees removed from Kevin Bacon. Why should he get all the love?

The Electronic Support Network

Since being diagnosed with depression. I have had such an outpouring of support from people that I hadn't expected.

I've been inundated with well wishes, but there are a few select people that genuinely seem to be consistent in their concern. People who have been through the same thing and are happy to talk about it. face to face or electronically.

As you may know, I refused the pills in favour of the talking option. One of my main reasons for starting the blog in the first place. So it still surprises me when I get people sometimes out of the blue asking me how I'm doing. I shouldn't be surprised I suppose, but I still am. I know they are friends that are looking out for me, but it still gives me a frisson of paranoia when people do (perhaps I should have mentioned before that a couple of the symptoms of my depression manifest as anxiety and paranoia). I can't help wondering why they are asking. I'm trying to learn a method for accepting the questions at face value. Sometimes "How are you doing?" just means "How are you doing?" and not "I am wanting to delve into your very soul to drag you kicking and screaming into sharp relief for all to point and laugh at!"

A while ago, I would have said "fine thanks, how's you?" No matter what the real answer was. Now, I actually take the time to think about it and come up with a considered answer based on how I am actually feeling. I still may say Fine thanks, and mean it, but also the paranoia may take hold for a nerve strangling moment and I say "fine thanks" when I actually mean "GET ME THE HELL OUTTA HERE!!! A-WOOGA A-WOOGA!!! DIVE DIVE DIVE!!!" There is sometimes a very fine line between the two, but the support network is usually very good at spotting when I am not fine. It might be something in my eyes, the set of my jaw or the way that I part my hair (That last bit I made up. It's been a long time since I've been able to find any hair to part). I may however stare wistfully into the distance reminiscent of the Iconic James Dean poster (Well I'd like to think so. In reality, I probably just look myopic) and answer with a few sentences on how my life has been for the past few weeks/months (dependant on when the last time we spoke was). The asker might not want to hear about my ups and downs, but on the other hand, they may be able to help. The support network can only grow. I'd like to think that I am doing my bit in a small way by posting my blog so that others may see what I'm going through and identify with it and maybe get help as a result. I don't want to come over all Mother Theresa (extra points if you know where that quote is from), but if I can be a part of the support network for other people, then I can sleep a little better.

But anyway... That aside, I was having an extra long think in the smallest room on the chair where all people are equal this morning. I have an informal support network that has sprung up around me. People are looking out for my well being. And it occurred to me that we, in general, just don't take enough time to listen, I am guilty of it myself (I'm sorry wife, but I don't always have my entire attention focused on you when you are telling me about your day. I will try harder in future). How many people are slipping through the cracks?

I saw this popping up in my facebook feed yesterday and it starkly highlighted to me how when people do stop and listen it can make a bloody big difference!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8JUPQVYpBME

When was the last time that you asked someone how they were doing and actually took the time to listen to the response?

Did the "Fine thanks, How's you?" appear genuine?

Was there a doubt in your mind as to if they really were fine?

Did you follow it up or were you thinking of the next thing to say in the conversation? I have to admit that I am getting better at spotting when people are not feeling great (I'm still not brilliant at it but in my defense, I am a bloke after all and people still need to beat emotions into me with a sledge hammer sometimes) and I have started gently challenging them on it. It might occasionally appear pushy (as when others have asked me in the past and not relented), but it might save a life.

Sorry this blog isn't about boobies or film references today, but I went a bit serious after seeing that yesterday.

In addition, if you can help this chap (I do have friends that are London based) there is a hashtag to help him out: were you anywhere near the bridge in question on that date? #findmike

The continuing Stooooory of a veterinary surgeon that's gone to the dogs

So, I had a doctor's appointment today. That's the third one so far. As it stands, I do feel better about myself and the depression has been diminishing little by little as we go along. Saying that, the anxiety issues have been growing (which came to a head on New Year's Day) to the point that I feel that I've made a step back on that one because I don't want to do things as it might happen again. That was something I really wasn't expecting. In other news, my regular insomnia is back again and I feel exhausted as a result almost constantly. I'm not overly concerned about this however as it's pretty much a regular thing that I've been suffering from twice yearly for almost the past ten years. I won't bore you with the why's and the wherefore's, but it's to do with work and added stress.

I thought I wouldn't be able to handle it this time with everything else that is going on in my life, but I've taken it in my stride which can only be a good thing right?  One of the weird things is that when I am experiencing the insomnia, I find that I am at my most functional. It's one of the reasons I started this blog in the first place. I tried a couple of other things like taking a picture a day of stuff that makes me smile or whatever. That kind of fell by the wayside as I don't have a creative spark in that way. I do take decent photos, but the muse has to be there. With the blog, I can pull emotions out of myself and nail them to a screen no matter how positive or negative that I feel.

So... the reasoning behind the title of today's blog...


Hands up who remembers the Muppet Show? This was the voice over to the opening of veterinarian's hospital with Rowlf playing the eponymous vet. Nowadays, Rowlf is pretty much a forgotten character. He's not Kermit, Fozzy or Gonzo or one of the other first stringers he doesn't get many lines (if any in the modern movies), but he was a big part of the ensemble players back in the day. He was the piano player in the house band of Dr Teeth and the Electric Mayhem, he had a starring role in Veterinarian's hospital. He was even in one of my favourite skits with the bust of Beethoven admonishing him not to hum along with the piece he was playing. He was one of the original Muppet creations, he was right there at the beginning with Kermit and Jim Henson in Sam and Friends. That's where I pretty much see myself at the moment. I'm in the background, getting on with things. I don't have (or truth be told want) a speaking role. I am happy to make up numbers. Rowlf was always the stoic with words of wisdom. I think that may be one of the reasons that he was never as popular as the others. I'd like to think that he was a part of Jim's serious side. The one that really wanted to teach kids and let them appreciate culture. I can be a little serious, but that doesn't mean that I can't let my hair down and play some rock and funk with the rest of the band.

I think what I am getting at is that While this is the normal state of affairs at the moment, please don't think that this is the norm. This is the transitional phase. I may be running around like a loon with my wide eyes and my mouth open, I may be playing Beethoven's "Pathetique" pt 2 and humming along to myself alone. It's still me though.

Don't hum!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t9ApIbDlk9Y

While trying to find the above video clip, I came across a video that I had been looking for for many years. It's not the whole thing, but it actually says a lot. I defy you not to have grit in your eye after watching it. It made me bawl when I saw it originally. the man had that much of a profound effect on my life. He taught me stuff with sesame street, he made me laugh with The Muppet Show he provided me with my life long love of puppetry in all of it's forms (apart from the "of the penis" variety). If just one person believes in you hard enough and strong enough believes in you...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SRSptCfn5WY

Sorry, this blog started out talking about one thing and became about something else... But on the other hand, not to be mawkish or anything, "Take what you've got and fly with it" is actually pretty much the point of what, in my cack handed way, I've been trying to say.

Thanks Jim trust you and your friends to distill it down to a soundbite that a ten year old can understand.

Hello, my name's Mark and I am a magician.

Well, not so much a magician, more of a mentalist, which is shorthand for 'I am rubbish at card tricks and sleight of hand!' There are also other connotations to that term which would also apply to me. Perhaps more on that in a bit.

I've always been fascinated with the greats. The Houdini's, the Maskelyne's and yes, even the Daniels'. Say what you like about Wiggy, he has had a fabulous career. I identify most with Derren Brown though. He makes no bones about the time he put into learning his trade and his approach to magic. He does not apologise for his performances the way that some magicians are wont to do and will always put little nods to his method into his scripts for those that want to learn. 

It's interesting that I thought about that... Apologising for a performance. I have found that I have a tendency to do that when on-stage myself. I still lack the confidence to perform. It may hearken back to the previous blog and my somewhat overwhelming confidence issues. I do have a stage persona, he is attempting to be the confident one, but still tends to be an apologist.

The best performance I felt I ever gave was before Christmas at a charity evening. Where I was pretty much trying out a whole new set. One of the effects was a mind reading bit and that was the first time that I felt that I had a little spark inside me. Looking into the eyes of the volunteer as I delivered the denouement was worth more to me than any payment, than any applause, than anything. I had entertained. There were people that thought that it may have gone on a little too long, but in that moment, I felt as though I was shoulder to shoulder with some of the good 'uns. It's rare and it's ephemeral, but it's so bloody worth it. 

One of the reasons that I started performing was to have an acceptable mask to fall back upon if the situation called for it. I could be 'that' guy who never went anywhere without a pack of cards and who could entertain for a couple of minutes. The Yorick who "could set the table on a roar". Not sure how far down that particular road I have travelled though.

I started out my previous blog by saying that I felt 6" tall oft-times, I don't mind telling you, that was one occasion that I felt at least 2 foot 6 and for the rest of the evening (I went on to do some blackjack dealing at the charity casino) I was flying. It may have been the persona taking over, it may have been the way that the effect worked, but secretly, I'd like to think that it was the twinkle of a good trick well done in the eye of a lady whom I held the hand of whilst reading her mind.

It's rare that I have a story that makes me  feel good these days. Mostly it's about my life turning to crap and being used as my own cautionary tale. But I do have to remind myself of the glimmer of when something goes right. This was one of those times.

It is a dark time for the Rebellion

That's how The Empire Strikes Back, one of my all time favourite movies begins. I'd never really actually thought about it before. The rebel alliance scores a major PR victory with the destruction of the Death Star (TM) in A new Hope, but they have realised that the Empire isn't just one giant space station. It's a whole load of small wheels that go together. It's a vast organisation that is pretty much insurmountable and it won't grind to a halt by bunging a couple of torpedoes down an exhaust shaft!

Again, a quick side note... You will find as this blog progresses that I use a lot of movie references. I spent a lot of my formative years either in the warm cocoon of a slightly musty cinema or in my own bedroom watching films over and over to the point that I can quote with the correct nuance and inflection the majority of a number of films. At the time, I felt that this was an awesome skill to have rather than actually going out and talking to people and interacting on a social level, but I have always been an introvert and that process that started over a quarter of a century ago may have had repercussions to the person that I am today... But anyway, I am digressing a little too much, on with the story

That's pretty much how I felt today.

Not just about the crap with the Royal mail demanding that I produce receipts for constituent elements of a piece of leatherwork that was lost in the post so that they can graciously refund me the cost of the materials only rather than compensating the asking price for the piece in question (don't even get me started on that one). It's not even the bank that have been dragging their heels for the past 6 months only to now offer me a slap in the face as a settlement to the PPI that I was most definitely mis-sold in a number of ways!

It's more to do with the way that I view my life at the moment. I feel around 6 inches tall sometimes despite being pretty much able to fill doorways. looking up at situations that I feel that I can't influence and just being swept along with the flow. I have always been one of this life's "Keep calm and soldier on", "don't whinge" and "don't make waves". In the past, people have taken advantage of my good nature and I have found it difficult to raise my voice in dissent. I have left it to the rabble rousers and as a consequence I have become smaller and smaller. I am ill equipped to fit into the space that I fill. And now I am at the point where I am having to look up at everything like it is the north face of the Eiger.

Is there a point to this? If there is, it's showing me that I am back at the first step on the ladder, I've come flying down the snake but perhaps most importantly, I am still on the game board and I am now ready to throw a six and ascend. I realise that the ladder may be a short one and there may be more snakes in my future, but small steps and small realisations like this by (if I may extend the game metaphor to breaking point here...) finding the corner of the jigsaw and metaphorically working down the sides means that I may be able to start re-building myself from the ground up. I doubt that I will ever stand as tall as Chewie, but taller than an Ewok would be a good start.