Dear Diary: Monday Recognition

I am up, out of bed, my wife gets me up and makes me breakfast bless her.

I guess forgetting to eat for three days may have given the game away?

I am here, doing that thing I do, except. previously in my life, I had stuff I just had to or my life would have collapsed. You know, no house, nothing collapsed. Now the problem is, if I do nothing, nothing collapses.

Nothing would change if I did nothing, the bills paid, my wife would get the shopping and pick up every bit of slack, and wouldn’t hate me for it. In fact, the more I deteriorated, she would worry and look to get me help, and do more to help me get better, being left to rot, would be the very last thing that would happen.

So how do I cope, I have nothing to do, no job left, everyone survives well without me, but I know I am not causing anything to miss a beat either.

The world really wouldn’t change, it wouldn’t miss me because it already doesn’t.

Advertisements

Dear Diary: Dreams are like Stars

They are dead when you look at them too.

It’s true, the light from a star takes so long to reach us that when we see it the star has probably died.

When our dreams die, they die inside of us before people see that they have.

They only mattered to us, and their death only matters to us because we let it matter.

Ultimately it was all meaningless and worthless from the start.

Dear Diary: Administrative Error

They happen.

You don’t get sent what you should. Nothing personal.

In that moment, that space between what should be and what is not, in the gap comes the realisation that what is coming, what you are waiting for, that thing those other people have, that you crave to be just like them, to wear, just like them, that you earned, and worked for that is justifiably yours and is your reward, that has been denied you by a simple mistake and is now one more hurdle away.

The fact that it can be denied in a moment by a simple administrative error shows that your loyalty has been wasted, that those that grant you what you thought was great reward and honour, hold you in no esteem at all.

You are not valued, they do not think of you at all, they forgot you. Your work, sacrifice, dedication, consistency, all that it took to get you to the point where you could be great for them, they forgot, and instead you had to go back and say, excuse me you forgot that I earned that too. They forgot about you even before you were done.

The truth of your value, if you let it, starkly strikes you.  What did you earn, what was its value, if you continue, what will the value of that really be, if only you care and you don’t then why take another step at all?

The game is done, over, played. The delusion ended, you are worthless, empty, discarded, yesterday’s news and never was.

Dear Diary: Social Media and Me

Ever ask yourself “what was I thinking?”

A while ago I made a promise to myself that I would disengage significantly with Facebook and use it as more a group update and keep in touch tool, with opportunity for contribution.

That hasn’t always worked out quite the way I planned but more and more I was starting to get the formula into a good balance.

Well, so I thought. You do that, you think things are going in the right direction. I do that, I think things are going in the right direction, or even, more disastrously, I think they are going well.

I am re-evaluating my contribution, after a couple of weeks where I have had the realisation that my contribution is not appreciated, or to quote “adds nothing of value” and that my “essays” are not as appreciated as I had thought.

It is easy to believe you are encouraging, maybe informing, sharing knowledge, even, dread the thought, lifting someone up.

I guess I should have known, delusions are only ever allowed to last so long.

Dear Diary: You Can Never Hide

One of the great things about life is we can hide, work, family, hobbies, athletic endeavour combinations of those afford us wonderful opportunities to hide away from reality.

While we get away and pursue some noble and worthwhile goal to the applause of our peers, we can hide from facing something bigger, and more frightening than the challenge we tackle for the world to see.

But when the goal is achieved, the project is over, we instantly seek the next one to avoid the chasm and void of light where we know we face the truth we have been hiding from all the time, so we stay in the darkness calling light.

How long can we pull the trick of self-delusion, do we pull it at all?

Dear Diary: The Day After Blues

It’s not really the day after, imagine it’s Monday

The weekend was the “weekend”, Sunday was the “day”. A year of work, 5 months of pure heartache and if anyone follows, I would guess you could call it heartache and real pain physical and mental have been my, and my family’s companion through life.

Probably giving way too much away, I have another life and this weekend that life was my life, the biggest day of the year so far for that life.

It’s over, its happened. Monday the sun came up, my son went to work, my wife went to work. There was a beautiful cake and a note on the side that he and his adorable girlfriend had made. There are of course messages on my social media posts saying well done.

But, the rain falls, the traffic flows, the TV didn’t record like it should, life on Monday morning ultimately doesn’t care if I won or lost. My ex doesn’t care, my biological children don’t care nor will my eldest care on our Skype. My news won’t even wrap chips.

Tuesday has become indifferent, the rain it lashes down, the shopping needs doing, and the carpet needs a hoover, the milk is running out too.

 

Dear Diary: Look Down on Me?

Most days a look of contempt or disdain is nothing to me, the opinion of some random non-entity who knows nothing of who I am

Today it bothered me: today I wanted to shake her and ask who are you to think for one minute you are better than me?

No one is better than anyone; we will all die, we will all hurt, we will all feel pain, hurt, we will grieve and feel the burning sear of loss, we will all be scared, we will be both courageous and cowards, we will regret and we will cry.

 

Dear Diary: Proof of Something

If I am proof of anything it’s hard work doesn’t pay off, practice doesn’t make perfect and what goes around doesn’t come around.

In reality, you have to be working hard on the right things in the right way, it has to be perfect practice, life isn’t even remotely fair and the universe simply does not care at all.

Ultimately the world will neither miss me nor mourn my loss, I matter only so far as I decide that I do, beyond that, I don’t matter at all. I lack both relevance and significance. My existence continues in large part through luck and cowardice; mostly cowardice.

I live a life of pretend and make believe. I pretend what I do has significance, it matters, it counts, that somehow my life is worthy of something, that I as a person have value and worth. In my make believe world I am wise and knowledgeable and people look up to me and value what I say, they support me and believe I will succeed, that my endeavours valuable for my part I pretend along that my life has value with them.

I know, I am, sadly, and I wish I was not, completely aware, of the sham and masquerade.

I am playing along like it matters because it’s all I know to do, but I do know exactly what is true.

 

Dear Diary: Manchester is not by the Sea

The seaside, so often the facade of towns long closed down in heart and soul existing was not for me.

This was reflection and calm, the quiet, where people said a cheerful hello while you look out, a gas rig or two between your bench and Norway. A different place, a different sense of time.

A little calm so close to places so familiar and a life so very different to the one I have now.

My obligation fulfilled, respects duly paid, tears respectfully held back, and happy memories built upon the ashes of the past.

My dearest friends a comforting bridge, welcoming arms and helping hands, solace in the storm.

A place does not know, it does not remember, it meant no harm, it held no anger, it will not be bitter, nor will it be sad, it will shed no tears, knowing not the passing of our years. Those we bring, they are ours to leave or take away, memories are our own each day, and the stories ours to tell, like the place lest we too face away.

Dear Diary – It’s​ All About Where You Look

If you look at my blog then I really haven’t been up to much at all. And, in a way I haven’t.

The truth is I have made a conscious effort to stay away from computers and technology much more. Although I confess to being an Instagram and Spotify person, those two I really like and are great unwinding tools for me, the rest I have tried to just leave alone. I have been successful, pretty much too.

I went away to Wales, and took some pictures which I will edit and share because it a beautiful place, but it reminded me that there is the world outside, and getting sick and all that involved, did eventually, lead to me making adjustments to how I am living life and what is taking priority. As I mentioned, this summer is an opportunity in my competitive life, which this blog, and, in fact, no blog, is about, that may never come round again, and I am lucky to have the opportunity to devote a lot of time, effort and energy to that. Right, now, somehow, it is entirely possible, and this shocks me to contemplate, I am actually one of the better competitors, in my category, in the country.

It really depends where you look, creatively, my office is still very much a declutter and dejunk project. I really have too much in too small a space, and I could not effectively do what I wanted to do in the space I had, and it was really not working. So I am committed to finally, sorting that aspect of my creative life out, and using what is a big space effectively towards a goal, and yes I do have a goal. But that is taking time because it is not a priority.

Also, I am learning skills and losing some of the fears that my “illness”/neurological issues have created and am getting the confidence to slowly embark on ventures and ideas again, but I know this is going to be a very very slow process, both because its not something I can put in number one spot immediately, and because I just do not have the energy levels I had before to devote to anything. And, also wisdom as taught me that cakes bake better on the right heat for the right time, and rushing never makes for a good final product.

So, unlike other Dear Diary’s this more of an update, check in, where i am, which is here, doing my thing, trying to do life and tackle the challenges this blog has talked about, and which are still very real and present, while focussing on the opportunity I have in my competitive life, and yearning a little for my creative Mouse to get out and scurry soon