Alive, kicking, and soon to be updating.  For now though, have this:

This is on the new Cleave album… albeit a tad crunchier with the electric version. Tis excellent. Lyrically joyous as ever.. haha  Reminds me of someone actually!


Facebook post worth saving

There’s lots being posted about mental health at the moment. I think it’s important to point out that, quite a few psychological issues are often something which you don’t develop yourself as such, but you get given to you.

The abuse I received from my parents, both physical and emotional, certainly has shaped how I interact with the world. I recall being severely beaten by my father for not tying my shoelaces “correctly” and being so scared to venture downstairs to the toilet as a kid that I’d pee under the carpet, rather than get a thrashing. And.. my bed time was still 7.30pm at 15 on school nights!

Weighing in at 5 stone aged 14 and still bedwetting like the sprinkler system on a football field, finding my father unconscious and dying from an overdose, and watching my insane religious mother ritually burn all family photos after her divorce because “her children were all abominations in the eyes of The Lord”, all take their toll. You learn to trust no-one, and isolation becomes a privilege because it’s safe.

And therein lies a danger. Isolation can be a killer. A predisposition for depression can be simply given to you by the environment you existed in, and once the chemical imbalance is there within the brain’s structure, that dark pathway is just waiting to be traversed.

For myself, I was and still am lucky. I came to grips with what was happening and understood that blame wasn’t something I needed to assume for my parents’ behaviour. I poured myself into reading and loved my music and took strength from both. I’m the same now. Some of you who read this will know me as the guy at the noisy end of the bar in my local rock pub, where I rarely engage with people but instead lose myself for a while in the music. It’s a safer version of isolation where I can belong by association rather than interaction. A shared passion.

Others however do not have such an outlet, and so I ask you : Look out for these people. Offer them an ear. It might cost you 10 minutes, an hour, or a lifetime of interactions, but it might also save a life. Perhaps suggest to them an activity you can do together. I chose for years to write a blog and at it’s been massively cathartic. It doesn’t make pretty reading at times and to and outsider there are most certainly places with said blog where all they’ll see is vitriol, but for me I can testify wholeheartedly that it helped me enormously.

I’ll drop here a link to one of the delightful issues my parents lumbered me with. It tells the story of mealtimes at The Wiseman’s… and its long lasting impact on my world.

If you’ve read to the bottom of here though… you’ve probably read enough of my piffle already haha

tongue tied and beaten



Well, this is a turn up for the books. Or rather articles. Seems I’m at least writing a little bit again. I, sometime in the distant past, send off an enquiry as to if I could write a few reviews etc of cds and concerts etc and then promptly forgot about it completely. Then, at 1am I get pinged by the editor. Here’s a starter for 10! Review Sevendust. All I see is War. 

It’s actually pretty damn good (the album not the review). We (the entity formerly known as “wife” constituting the other member) had the chance to see them in Vegas many many moons ago but chose Drowningpool and Flyleaf instead. While I stand by that as a decent decision at the time, I’d be quite happy to go see these lot now. Anyway, if you fancy having a shufti at my musings you can find the article here via Uber Rock! 

Other than that, I guess I’m alive. Life ticks over as normal. No joy finding work which is frankly nuts. 44, fit, healthy, smart, and 2 years of Amazon experience behind me since returning to the UK should be enough to demonstrate that I’m prepared to do what’s needed but.. there’s not much I can do. With only my old Samsung Wave for internet access, and only a 6 month contract on the flat I’m in, it’s actually starting to look a little bleak again. Something needs to manifest quickly, but having applied for nigh on 200 jobs in 90 days… and getting ziltch in return, it’s all a bit soul destroying. Living on £5 a day seems to be beyond the concept of most which is as it should be because it’s simply not doable. Still… it’s clearing the puppyfat from the belly. Positives. The rosacea didn’t help, pretty much rendering me unemployable for anything which I might have been a public face for anyone, but, it’s eased again now. 

Back once again

So, after several months of bouncing from sofas to hotel to sofa .. I am alive and well and back in Wolves. I have my own place, my own bills, not shared accommodation but a proper (if rather grotty) flat. I survived through good fortune and stubbornness and bloodymindedness  with the help of a young lady and her generosity. Sammy, I’m forever in your debt. 

I however have no Internet at home so I am not able to update this properly! That will change though in time. I’m currently still getting back  on my feet but… for moment I’m thinking there but for the grace of *insert deity* go I. 

Ah the joy of Jo’s

I’ve landed homeless again. 

Having taken Jo to the post office to try and sort out paying for her passport it turns out that she’d not bothered to sort out her parents details. So.. she’s applying for a legal document pertaining to identify her as her… and she doesn’t bother to get her parents information??? The guy in the post office could barely believe what he was seeing. We left and I asked her quite how she thought that was going to be ok. Cue lots of screaming… culminating in her telling me to pack my bags.

Marvellous. I try and open the world up for her and … that’s what I get. 

It’s not new. She’s screamed at me many times in the few weeks I’d been there. While packing… more screaming. Apparently I still love Deb? hahaha The woman who  13 years ago murdered our unborn child. Apparently Shannon (just a lass from the pub) will put me up.  I also of course still love Michelle (who I’ve seen probably 4 times in 16 years). It’s entertaining to note that in 9 years with Esther I think we argued to the point of raised voices once… maybe twice. And I was actually IN a relationship with her.

This is the same woman who upon my arrival attempted to emotionally blackmail me into staying by registering me as her partner and thus having all her benefits stopped. 

I made a choice when I chose to leave Heidi’s. It was for her good (Heidi’s) and was supposed to be for mine too. Hell was I wrong! Of course… Jo is now a stone or two lighter, no longer needs her crutches, no longer needs the injections she was having (I think it was 6 a day for her diabetes), has travelled .. and was about to have the gateway to the world handed to her on a plate.  

The plan was, to stay there, recoup the money I’d used to lend to Heidi to pay her rent (which she’s kept!!) while she kept hospitalising herself, and then get my own place. Amazon came up trumps but, I simply couldn’t work there while being under Jo’s roof. The arguments and shouting, the bizarre behaviour. The stress of being in the hovel that is Amazon and then coming “home” to that, was killing me. Literally. I’ve been ill more times in 2 months than I have in 10 years!! And so… I quit Amazon, seeing a roof over my head as being the priority. Also, the belief that, removing that stress could make living at Jo’s more tolerable. But the issue wasn’t with me. It’s with her. An insane paranoia about how “She’s not stupid” and everything is centred around people not wanting her. It’s underlined by how her son treats her. My refusal to enter into a relationship with her, even though I was basically completely trapped there just wasn’t something she could handle. Passive aggressive turned into simply outright aggressive… until this.

And so… i find myself homeless. 

I suspect this might be my last entry here. My money runs out in a few days. Whither then.. I cannot say.


Having a Pearl Jam moment!

So, it’s been well over half a year since I added anything of meaning here. I suppose I should change that. 

First things first. I’m still alive and well and living in Droitwich! Oh wait no, that’s Kate/Bob’s mother. I’m back in sunny Wolves. 

Staying with Heidi became untenable for me. I can’t recall if it was 4 or 5 times she was hospitalised while I was there. I do know that the 999 call I had to make for her was only the second time in my life I’ve wondered if I was going to see someone die in front of me. Her life is her own, and I cannot tell her how to live it, nor will I, but I will not enable it either. I swore I’d never speak to her mother again, and broke that vow in order to tell my sister that, in my opinion, she should set aside money so that at any one time she can get on a plane from Sweden, because in my opinion, I’m not certain H will survive the next 12 months if she continues as she is. I love my niece, her heart is massive, and given everything which she’s been through, I have nothing but respect for her. She looked after me when no-one else would. She’s so busy looking after everyone else that she won’t look after herself. She will not see it, but this was me looking after her the only way I knew how. 

So, I landed back in Wolves last month. Work at Amazon up in Manchester was actually quite doable. I’d been a problem solver from the first week and my skills on the computer made me something of a go-to person for people all over the warehouse, inc managers, ops managers and pretty much everyone who needed info or a computer problem fixed. I had my moments though of course… and so i quit on Valentines Day due to the stupidity of other around me. Two weeks passed and I received a call asking why wasn’t I in work.  Another 2 weeks of phone calls resulted in a return back the week before my birthday in order to have a meeting about my issues. In truth nothing actually changed. But, with no disciplinary either for my month off, I basically took the equivalent of a sabbatical! I was, frankly, lucky, and returned as if nothing had happened.

However, the situation at home, meant I had to leave my job as I needed accommodation. The fact that nothing changed at work probably made this an easier decision. The long days had taken their toll. Up at 4am and not returning until gone 8pm.. i’m no longer 23. A friend said I could come stay with her until I can sort my own flat/bedsit. So, I got on a train and back in Wolves I find myself. 

The Giff as ever has been a source of both solace and  strength for me. I care little if I speak to anyone there, I go for the music. I’m comfortable there. No-one asks anything from me, and vice versa. I’m both anonymous and known. There are people there I can talk to if I want to, and there are people there who would miss my presence at the end of the bar whose name I would not know, nor they mine. 

And so there comes the only really good piece of fortune to spring from all this. Amazon, wondering where I was again, called. I explained to them that I was no longer able to get to Manchester to work and was expecting the standard “Ok, thank you for working for us, where do we send your P45?”. Instead the young lady inquired “So, what would be your bast case scenario then now? Is there anything we can help you with?” So, I said where I was, and explained I’d done nearly a year in the Rugeley Amazon before moving to the Manchester depo, and ideally as I’d need a job here, maybe I could return to them? “Give me some time to make some calls.”, she said. Half an hour later : You start Monday!

So, currently I’m still attempting to sort accom, and am plonked at Jo’s, whom I owe a massive debt of gratitude to.  I’m hoping a passport might at least go some way to saying thank you! Accompanying me to the Arsenal game in London might also have awoken something? A convert perhaps? 

Anyway, I’m alive. I know I’ve neglected this, and it’s possible that I might continue to do so after this. There’s a part of me that wonders if it’s because it’s Esther’s birthday that I’ve chosen to post today. I don’t know. No matter. It’s done. So… to finish… a pic. After the thrashing handed (Wenger)out by Liverpool I probably shouldn’t be celebrating anything Arsenal related but.. it was a good day away from everything..