Tuesday, 14 July 2009

Caught in the Rush of the Crowd, Lost in a Wall of Sound, You are ringing in my ears

So it's been quite a few months since I announced my continuing depression and began some kind of treatment since then. It's not been an easy few months to say the least, but some kind've progress has been made.

I'll cover the major things that have occurred and I'm sure you can make you're own judgement about the rest.

Back right at the start of May, I had a bit of a crisis... Or breakdown. I'm not sure which really. I was like my entire brain was broken as I really couldn't identify myself at all. Following some urging from Kirsty I went to the GP who promptly signed me off work for a fortnight, and was told to relax, as well as increasing the dose of my Anti-Depressants. I also shaved my head into a mohawk... More on this later!

Now I know some of you will think this is weird but I wasn't very keen on being signed off... I spent too many months signed off several years ago and it takes it toll on mental attitude. I find it soul destroying as it really is very boring. In this case however, it was obviously required as I spent most of that first week off just curled up in bed not really feeling like doing anything. I just felt exhausted and couldn't find any energy to get out and get going. After 3 or 4 days of pretty much getting some kind of motivation, I then started to get really bad feelings of guilt regarding work, as I was letting all of my colleagues down. This general malaise carried on for the full first fortnight, at which point the doctor signed me off again.

Over this second period of time I really started to pick up.. My energy was improving and my boredom was also increasing, I also became a bit of a pest towards Kirsty (in the best most loving way) so she started to know that I was improving.

Towards the end of this second week my Uncle died. Terry was a lovely, generous man and was much loved by everyone in our family, as well as his friends. When he was poorly my Aunt had to pop into the bookies to put on his bets, and let his "girlfriends" in the betting shop know why he wasn't there. Whilst in there the manager came in mid conversation and commented how much they enjoyed Terry's company because he always brought them cakes. He was that kind of guy!
My saddest feeling was when we carried him into the crematorium... As his was the third relative's coffin I've carried in the past few years and I don't want to carry any more.

One of the things that I have discovered is that I've not been true to myself. I haven't been massively dishonest with myself either but I have been restrictive. My personality was being restrained by a need to please that I often pander to. Don't get my wrong, I'm not a robot and I really haven't followed the herd, but sometimes, I didn't let out the real me.

And Now I Am.

Hey everyone I'm Kit. I was an angry, rebellious teen who wasn't allowed to get angry and couldn't rebel. Now I Can!
I was a lairy person who had his temper kept under wraps. Now It Isn't!
I was shy and a loner and worried what other people might think of me. Now I Couldn't Give A Fuck What You Think!
I felt wrong for not being driven and academic. Now It Doesn't Matter.

I cut my hair into a mohawk. Yup. I did. and You know what. I should've done it years ago but wasn't sure what people would think. (By people I mean the ones who's opinion would matter to me). funnily enough people seem to like it, and those who don't, I just growl until they run away!

I've also decided I'm getting some tattoo's. I'm getting stuff meaningful to me, and I know some people won't get it, but thats not the point.

Goinmg forward I'm going to try and keep this attitude going. I need to be true to myself and if that requires conflicting with someone then Bring It On.

OK enough anger and outpouring today... I'll be back tot he reakl wirld soon talking about comics, life and also maybe jelly, I mean, who knows what comes out of my head.

Oh, also, I've a draft of the opening of my book: Let me know what you think.
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A few months ago.

People are staring at me. I'm vaguely aware of them looking as they walk past, but I don't really care. I know I look a bit mental. I'm wearing a hat, my old torn jeans, my slip ons which are nearly falling apart and my battered jacket. A large pair of headphones sit across the cap on my head and there are tears streaming down my face.

I make it to our bench and collapse against the worn wood, dropping the flowers down next to me. A cramp shoots through my body and I can feel bile rising, but it's gone as quickly as it came.

I reach into my pocket, produce my Ipod and try and sort out the playlist that I want to hear and let the music wash over me, sobbing uncontrollably. I realise I look like a complete nutter to the happy passers by, but I really don't care, not today.

As the first song finishes, I feel someone sit next to me. A hand softly takes mine, and I press pause, slipping the headphones off. “Hey” I say hoarsely, staring into the brown eyes looking at mine. “Hey” says Hannah, “What did you play for her?”



5 Years, and 7 Months earlier.

I look at my lounge, forgetting that i'd left it in such a state. It smells stale, and I just know that the kitchen will be worse. My fridge is going to smell and the Milk will have probably grown into a new life form. Despite all of this, it's good to be home. After 3 weeks of Hospital food, beds and nurses poking me I'm looking forward to my own bed, my DVD's and games, and all the other toys and gadgets that shouldn't be in the house of a 24 year old single male.

Despite the ache in my stomach, and it still being February, I walk (slowly) around the house, opening the windows to try and freshen the place up. The kitchen is quite clean, and when I inspect the fridge there is some fresh milk, and butter and an unopened packet of Bacon. I check the cupboard, and true enough, there's a fresh loaf in there. Only one person would’ve done this.

My big sister, Charlotte, despite being a high flying executive, always takes the time to look out for her little brother. As I flick the grill on and tear the bacon packet open I reflect on my future prospects. I've probably got another 18 months of operations and chemotherapy ahead of me along with further operations and adjustment to having an ileostomy.

Whilst I butter the bread and fish the bacon out from the grill, I spot a package on the side. It's not very big, and just has a single word on the tag, "Enjoy". I open it and find a Tennis Ball, but no further explanation. I'm sure it has a purpose which will be explained to me at a later date.

I flick through the post on the phone table, but not finding anything interesting, turn my attention to the answerphone. 7 messages. 7 messages in 3 weeks?? I'm clearly unpopular at the moment. out of 7 messages only 4 are interesting. 2 from the bank, one from my best mate Stu and one from Charlotte. "Hey Bro, hope you got home ok, and hope you made a big bacon sandwich. I'm away until Thursday, and have got meetings on Friday so will see you Sat. loadsa love. Lottie".





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