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Deliver us from evil

Uncategorised Posted on October 3, 2022 8:16 pm

Ive not written much since last time. 

Mainly because my depression is getting to a stage that i physically want to die. And my anxiety means my train of thought jumps from on stage to another, and i start writing something down, and my mind suddenly goes blank.

I come from the family from hell.

I would describe my family as a cross between the Borgias, and the Wests, and I could go into detail, but i could be incriminating not only myself but also the innocent.  

Ive always been told to “shut up!” Dismissed to the point, I believed I was non-existent. I wandered around alone, and had no real friends, i was ghost even then.

Now i am a ghost wandering from temporary accommodation to temporary accommodation as I have currently not got a home. This is all due to a twist of fate where my ‘user’ brother got some idiot ‘knocked up’ and even though i made my life choices not to have kids, suddenly i have to kids to ‘rear’ as we have not to let them go without even if that leaves me up shit creek without a paddle. 

And this makes it harder as i cannot cope with change due to my Asperger’s. Yes i need to escape the turmoil In my old home, but i also need the comfort and security of a home, and everyone Is treating me like a orphan right now, and i hate it. I hate feeling singled out, i hate putting people out, hate feeling weak and needy!

Let’s start on why Im currently here. Stuart, my former brother. I say that as if he was my brother he would understand me and know how i work, (i suspect he does, and uses this to push my buttons the right way.) we’ll currently this ‘thing’ is currently looking after my elderly father. My father made a comment of his girlfriend Lynda, (Stuart’s absolute equal, down to the drug taking, anger issues, and total lack of respect for anyone other than herself, even then she has none judging by her slovenly attitude to herself!) and that’s what the comment was about, her laying K’o’d, downstairs, ( according to Stuart, she was unwell as was up all night cleaning after us,) i suspect though it’s the usual, she was wide eyed to the wind on the exotic stuff on gambling websites during the night and zonked out her skull during the daytime. This upsets my father as it depresses him, and now feels he cannot come downstairs as its usually a fucking mess, (this is not the only time she has done this,) Stuart, (and in some ways Lynda,) badly need anger management support as when people talk about them, they tend to rush into ‘blowing their fucking lid’ and take i out on the nearest person, as that was my father, (their meal ticket,) their ire landed on me the weakest link. And to say i don’t take conflict well is an understatement. And the mad psycho bitch stalking of Lynda drove me to thinking my whole world was ending. That i had no way to turn. Thus my dark black mood got my sister to a worried stage that i was contemplating ending my life. To be brutally honest, it would have been so easy to do so, and if it was not for my sister that night phoning for Samaritan help, I’d probably would not be here to write this. 

I have contemplated suicide seriously twice In my life. The first experience I was a confused teenager, my life revolved around the judgement of my mother. Stuart, a recurring Influence in these things for me, decided to threaten ‘outing’ me to my mother on my homosexuality. The first experience you have is the whole ground opening up below you. It’s so instantaneous, you have no choice but to be sucked in, and its deep. No one can hear your screams. On a side note, this is why i don’t believe In a heaven and hell, one i have no understanding how a caring ‘father’ can allow his ‘child’ to experience such torture. Two after experiencing it, i can see nothing worse than the hell i experienced. It’s the loneliness and the silence you experience first, as i mentioned i could be screaming at the top of my lungs, but no sound would come out. You feel such a terrible loneliness that nobody can understand or help you. The rest of the world goes through their ‘happy’ life, while you watch In horror the world turning black. Then you contemplate how you will ‘do it.’ With this you work out In your mind which will not cause me much pain. Which will upset my family the least, which is quick. Everything but why am i in such a state that i want to end my pathetic existence. 

As i mentioned I attempted several times to end my life, i once thought ending it with tablets, until i heard that you can take a bad reaction and end up violently speaking your stomach up. The last time was death by car or bus. I stood for me ages on the side of the road willing myself to take a step forward. In reality i could have been minutes, but to me it was like the longest hour of my life. You’re in a tunnel and all you can focus on is right in front of you. Stupid thoughts go through your head, like “will this make the papers?” “Will my mum be ashamed?” “What will the driver feel, ending my life?” All though its not that persons fault, that blame is solely on me, they have to live with that image for the rest of their life. I don’t know what eventually stopped me, but i did not feel relief, only shame, and the thought that i still had to face another day. 

To be in that situation, you must give up all hope. And although you walk away from suicide, a part of you still dies, to me it was my confidence, security, and my self respect. 

The first therapist I spoke to, (as a child it was ingrained into us not to discuss our feelings.)  scared me. I was a child. I was believed to be ‘disturbed,’ hence my mother sought help with getting me a child psychologist. The issue was it singled me out, I’d be called away from what friends i had, or called out of class to be ‘hypnotised’ by this strange woman i did not know. This made a very lonely, scared and confused child, subject of the whims of other children, (Who are bastards,) to single out the weak one from the herd and pounce. And they did pounce, to the stage i have nightmares about my childhood to this day. Humans will do everything in their power not to be seen as the weak one, I’ve done it, and join the ‘pack’ to single out the weak one that’s wandering alone. Humans are mostly nasty, and its only the rare exceptions to the rule that show a spark of kindness and understanding. Sadly i cannot include myself in that light. 

My second therapist was a long time after, around 30 years after, such as the state i was in after my suicide attempt and my breakdown. The only reason i went was i was such a vegetable I was useless to the people around me and myself. I was getting on well with this person, but two things sent alarm bells running in my head. I don’t do well with strangers, and it takes me a while to open up. She also compared me and my mum with the situation of Billy Bibbit and his mum in ‘one flew over the cuckoo’s nest,’ which would make Stuart, Nurse Ratched! For those who don’t know the plot, Billy has a ‘oedipus’ relationship with his mother, not in a sexual way, but sees her as his moral guardian, to the state that he’s sexually repressed, and in a ‘nut house’ he has feelings for a prostitute, and loses his virginity. Nurse Ratched tells his mother, and with facing the disapproval of loosing his mothers love, kill’s himself quite violently. How close this got to my actual reality shocked me. When my mum died, another little sliver of me died. My security, with my mother there i had someone to hold my hand, someone to fight my battles. I even had my own ‘Billy’ moment when Stuart tried to out me. I have yet to come to terms with her loss. Partly as denial has kicked In. We weren’t talking you see, usual in my house. We fight, sulk, then one of us would give in. It was over this caravan i’m currently banished to. And again weirdly over Stuart and his family. We were fighting over where my clothes down here were to be allocated, and how i was taking up too much room, when the cupboards, drawers could be used to store Stuart and his family’s shit. We would eventually make up, but I didn’t get the chance, my last words to her were the Clichéd “don’t you die on me!” I never got to see her dead, I refused, i never got to her funeral as i didn’t want to make a scene, also i was to frightened to acknowledge her being dead. To me, all she has done is metamorphosed into a voice in my head, the usual being critical of my actions. 

My 3rd therapist again was spot on saying i was living in a ‘toxic environment,’ we were getting a few things sorted, when two things happed, the global pandemic and the sad passing of my mother just after my sessions finished. Time has always been a bastard for me. 

And then there is my sister Carol. 

Not only does she have to cope with life, her own autistic kids, dealing with benefit bastards trying to deny her support. She has health issues too that worry the shit out of me. She now has to deal with me on top of all this. And i am worried I’ve planted the mantle of my protector from my mother to her. She doesn’t deserve that. She has been a life saver to me over the years. My diagnosis of autism for a start. To now this another breakdown of my shitty life. I don’t think i comprehend the mental anguish that she must suffer having to deal with all this. 

Anyway, I’m loosing my train of thought again!

Nighty night!



Pleasant dreams world!

Uncategorised Posted on March 6, 2021 7:33 pm

I know there is no god!

No god would put anyone through the crap we go through in this world! Because if there is a god he must be some sadistic bastard who enjoys the suffering of pain onto others. That’s meant to be heaven? An eternity with that? I’d rather go back to nothing!

Take the COVID 19 outbreak, a plague one of many over the years that has killed millions, wiped out kids, grandparents, with no remorse. You can see that we as humans created that mistake, we are infallible. We are effectively arseholes that murder for fun, enjoy pain being inflicted on other people. Case in example, a public hanging was a public holiday and people cheered as a fellow human, a person like themselves, (forget what they have done,) its still a human up there dying in agony while people are laughing around them. I am meant to think a benevolent god thinks that’s ok?  So back to the COVID 19 bastard, or lets go further back to the plagues of Egypt, the death of the young thought to be actually a outbreak of a virus similar to COVID. I can see why a human could cause that! Not a god that’s, according to the bibble, (a work of fictitious shit written 2000 years after the events first written in Genesis,) made us in is own image, is god suddenly into self harm?

I can give you two reasons why there is such a thing as ‘religion’

  1. We don’t know what happens when we die. We would rather believe we spend eternity sitting on a cloud with a harp and wings, or in the burney fire with auld nick raping you up the arris with a trident! Than believe we go back to carbon, what everything is made from! Where are the angel cows for example, or do butterflies get jump leads attached to their nob in hell? (I give the same argument about ghosts, and arsehole mediums BTW)
  2. Religion is a series of lectures in ‘not to do wrong’ and ‘listen to your elders,’ it’s a true fact that most of the religions in the world are the richest ‘clubs’ the money they get, the land they own, think about every little bit of silver and gold in the hands of churches! Did Jesus, (who was not white by the way, look at any Palestine or Jew in the Israeli region,) have gold, wealth or land? Did he fuck! Jesus according to the bibble, and it should know kicked the money lenders out of the temple cos it made a mockery of religion associating wealth with how close you can get to god! Now everyone hop on a plane and go to Saint Marks Basilica Stand inside, (once you pay the entrance fee,) and see the amount of mone… sorry morals went into funding such beauty! Religion in five words can be summed up as ‘do as you are told!’

I don’t want to belittle anyone who believes in this shit, you can believe what you want, (some believe the word is flat, even though all you need to do is stand on the deck of a boat in the middle of the ocean and look at the curvature of the earth.) These people NEED to believe in something, they are human, we want to be guided like sheep, that’s why Shepards are mentioned in the bibble, we are the sheep, and the big Shepard is going to take us away to make chops! Believe what you want flowers! Just don’t enforce your beliefs on others, you just helping that ‘Shepard,’ make more chops!



Adventures in dating land, (Jesus wept!) ☹

me 'n that Posted on September 7, 2020 4:31 pm

I don’t like people!

What is wrong with me, why do I want to complicate my life by adding someone else to it?

I really don’t like people, I cant read them, can’t understand the nuances, don’t know how to fit in, if anything could tell you that, the first part of my life would tell you that.

First, Gay dating is a SCAM!

And to prey on a group of people that about 40 years ago could face chemical castration, or today in some countries, RUSSIA, could be imprisoned, or beaten up, or Bruni, where the Allah bothers will deprive you of your life. It’s the sickest things us humans do to people.

I know gay dating is a scam for a few wee hints,

  • You get a free bit, but it’s basically create a profile, and watch people say hello, and look at your profile, without being able to see who is saying hello and who’s looking at your profile. You can of course if you pay a monthly fee. Its effectively bait & switch!
  • The catfish – this is effectively what I mentioned in the previous paragraph, only instead of the owners of the app, its real criminals, gangs, mainly said Russians, or the lovely Nigerians, (Nigeria must be the only country that has its main job occupation as scamming little bastards.) Let me explain to you how it works, someone, (certainly not the person you have been sent the photograph from,) contacts you. They ask you hello, some claim to be from places like USA, or the favourite, the US service man. Now if you are looking to play someone else, especially AMERICAN, you would expect you would learn to copy how American dialect works. Where what you get normally is something you would see in an eastern European gangster film. Also, if you have just met a gay five mins ago, wee hint scammers, don’t start calling me darling, or handsome, like you’re a Thai ladyboy! So, the catfish he wants to do one or two things with you, (certainly not have a relationship!)
  • You will get sent an innocent picture, and will be asked for another of you, gradually getting up to the full cock and balls! Then you get asked to pay to stop your cock being plastered over the internet like the next porn star! (with me they would need to pay me NOT to show my bits!)
  • You will get them taking out the begging bowl out, and to wire transfer them money, cos “they love you big time!” they current new one is the gift card like a Apple gift card, as money transfer is wire fraud, a gift card is that, a gift!
  • You notice most of the apps have periods where you get fuck all responses, until you pay them, or you ignore them, and you come back to see who loves you like a 14 year old school girl on valentine’s day!

Anyway, I signed up, I don’t know why? I’m as skittish as a horse on the truck on the way to the knacker’s yard, while the driver shoots a gun out the window every five minutes.

I’m also extremely paranoid, my autism can be thanked there, so when no fucking bastard looks at me, my mind goes to “I’m Joseph Merrick, aren’t I?” Also, when some poor bastard does a go, I run out of conversation, and they fuck off!

I really don’t know why I want to bother myself in this.

The only thing I can come up with is I like to observe people.

And fuck me some of the profiles are funny.

One thing I have learned is that gay people, who want to be classed as equal to straight people, surprisingly treat a monogamous relationship as ‘a pile on!’ I don’t know about you, when I pick a partner, I hope he’s not on a gay dating site the next minute arranging a bonk in a park bush!

Some come to the party with a list of wants, usually looing for a Calvin Klein model, and they ether have no profile picture or look like they have dragged through a bush!

When you do get approached, (if you do,) rather than “hello!” you get hit with a picture of big hairy cock and balls, (most of the time tiny winy wee, microscopic cock and hairless balls, I honestly don’t know why they do that, mucky actors do that also, I haven’t a clue why, or why you would have the nerve to take a razor, or a pair of clippers to your ball bag!) then the next words you get are “got any pics?” I don’t know about you, I have never wanted to be a porny model, also never wanted to show my naked body over a app to previously the only image you have of this person is A DICK!

So there out!

There are a few on there, pretty boys, hair styled up, more like little girls than actual men, and being I was bulled the majority of my life for being a homosexual, the last thing I want is to go with a ‘pretty little boy’ and that what most of them are, ‘jailbait,’ like candy for the creepy older ones looking to fuck a boy! (usually folks they are the catfish idiots who copy and paste a stock image on the web to reel the paedos in!)

So there out!

That’s ok in a way, I like a mature, beardo! But sadly, they like the ‘manboys!’ so I’m not getting my Nat king there!

So, I’m now left with the serial killers the weirdos! (you know cover me in rubber, whipped cream, and lay me over a hostess trolly and beat me on the arse by a copy of the people’s friend!)

As I don’t want to be found on the front page of the Sun, or the Daily Record, ‘found in a field,’ or ‘arrested dressed as a nun holding the reins of a donkey, (in FULL rubber!)’ I must give that a pass!

So, like most of the time I have a dalliance in the world of gay dating, it comes to nothing, the apps get cancelled, and its back to me, myself, and I!

Don’t feel sorry for me, I probably really don’t want this anyway, I will probably have just have a ton of cats, and be reeking of pish!



Going for a wee trip to Ayr Part 2 and a ½

me 'n that Posted on August 30, 2020 4:13 pm

Don’t get used to this, I’m not Judith Charmers!

Well, bright and sunny day Friday the 29th of august, felt like Friday the 13th.

I decide to get some well-deserved exercise, and walk to the station, by the time I got there I thought I was going to take a heart attack.

I am fat and unfit, and due to my prolonged stay in my ‘cell’ my leg muscles are, what’s the polite way of saying this, oh yes FUCKED!

So as usual to avoid speaking to absolutely nobody whatsoever, I use the smartcard and vending machine rather than speaking to anyone at the payment desk, (also I didn’t want to play gooseberry with the staff member trying to chat up the person behind the counter, id have to go to the wedding!)

As far as I am concerned the ticket was on the card and I’m ready to go!

So, I wait,

And wait,

Finally, a class 334 train comes along to Glasgow queen street*

*side note this must be the only train in the Scotrail fleet they do not wash, as every time I have got on since they were first introduced has bogging windows!

I choose the first carriage, as if we are going to get into a head on smash, its better getting vaporised right away, than laying in a ball of twisted metal further back in fucking pain. When the doors open, who is standing in front of me are two transport polis! And you know my mind goes into fecking overdrive, (even though I haven’t done anything, plus one is a bloke, and the uniform,,,,,mmmmmm.)

It is also quite handy as every time anyone came to the door to get on, the minute they seen the two fuzz, they do a body swerve to another carriage, and I had to suppress my laughter at the image. It also meant I got the carriage to myself for a while, but sadly others caught on to the idea, and I wasn’t alone for long!

Bit un-eventful from this point from queen street, to central other than the streets being full, and no attempt at social distancing.

Humans I have decided are fucking idiots, we’re selfish and extremely dangerous. And the biggest mad man of them all, Elon Musk, (usually aff his face on the funny fags,) wants us to spread humanity to other worlds, sweet buddha help them!

So, I am at central, a whole other kettle of fish, partly again because its hoatching!

My train appears on the board, so I go to the gates, a whole queue behind me, and my card fails at the gate, PANIC MODE SETS IN!

 “PANIC! PANIC! YOU’RE A FUCKING IDIOT CANNOT WORK A GATE!”

I can feel every eye behind me, them tutting to themselves, sweat pouring down, along comes the Scotrail gate staff, now you would think, that card is not letting him through the gate, lets check the card, maybe the ticket has not went on/ maybe he has not bought a ticket, no you use your own card and let him pass though! I paid £8.45 that day for a ticket, I could have saved myself a fortune, but the back of my head there is ALWAYS a bit of me that thinks,

“you will get caught!” so I don’t!

So, on board the second train of the day! A class 380, (Christ I sound like a trainspotter,) and to add to the fun every time it sets off it has a wee scream, (don’t believe me? Here’s a wee YouTube vid!)

So, I had the fun of that at EVERY STOP!

So, on went the noise cancelling headphones, and I settled down for a trip down to the seaside!

A half an hour into the journey, due to me having to wear contacts, a mask that suffocates me, the bright lights, cos I’m not wearing my reactions glasses, I have a migraine. I am getting them quite regularly due to this, and I want to take my contacts out, and put my glasses back on, but this is a bit of a faff, also I would have to deal with the steamed up lenses.

Also, I have no painkillers with me, so I’m doubly fucked, oh wait I have a full bladder also, and self-conscious as I am, won’t go for a pee in a train bog! What am I frightened off? The idiots I’m on the train with, you know the ones that don’t know how a fucking mask works, so only cover the mouth and leave the nose free to spread the fucking plague! I’m working on this with this with my therapist, but there is still a wee part of me at the back of my head with them drawing me questioning looks!

I get to Ayr station, what a shithole! I used to think Ayr station was beautiful as a child, it looked like a old fashioned station, now the attached station hotel has been left to ruin, wrapped to look a Christmas present, (badly,) like everything now in this world its badly fucked!

I go to Ayr town centre, and like Glasgow nobody got the social distancing message.

To give you an example, we could all possibly die of the pox, builders have erected a cordon around a building, taking up most of the pavement, do people take it in turns to walk down the narrow piece of pavement, what do you think? To add insult to possible fatal injury some were queuing at the other end to get into a shop packing that part of the street! No police, anything breaking up the gathering!

I got to the beach, and modern development has fucked Ayr, I would say that they may have used the same planning regulators as Airdrie does. As the need to build wee Lego flats, ugly eyesores right on the front has ruined the beachfront at Ayr, (I could rant for hours about North Lanarkshire council turning Airdrie into one large housing scheme, rather than put anyone into the empty shops in the main streets, but that would take days!)

But people were on the beach at Ayr, not social distancing, and one of the weirdest things us scots do, It was sunny, but fecking icy wind, and idiots out sunbathing, two idiots out in the surf with boogie boards, (I could quote Darwin here, but I won’t!) anyhow I was getting bored and my headache was getting worse, so I thought I would brave the train home!

I am currently on Gay dating at the moment, I don’t know what I will get out of it, hopefully friends, maybe a ring one day, but going by some of the responses on the website usually partnered men, (for some reason Gay men who get a man, seem to think one is not enough,) While I was on a train, got a ‘flame,’ from 35 yer old guy, (I won’t mention his name, mainly as a couple of mins later I got 3 pictures from him, 1 of him in a assless thong, 1 of him on the bed naked with 1 MASSIVE WALLOPER! It was huge! And like the great Billy Connolly once said, “he took it about in a Barra!”

And one with said Walloper out and about in a public lift!

The message I got was he liked my picture and would I like to meet up with him and his friends, apparently they take it in turns ‘to host,’ an orgy at each and others houses!

I replied that I was new to the game, a virgin, and politely declined, even though I complemented him on what a lovely boaby!

His reply was “so are you interested?”

I’m assuming most of the blood at that point went from his brain to that massive member!

Again, I thanked him for the offer, but advised him that my first attempt at the art of man-o-man action maybe should not be in the guise of a ‘human kerplunk!’

Anyway, he fucked off!

I got back to Central again I was stopped at the gates with that stupid fecking card! Again rather than helping me I was waved through, same at Glasgow Queen Street, I even asked the woman at the gate to help me check the card, but again was waived through, and she went back bumming to her colleague! I think Coronawonna virus makes us think everyone has the pox and we want to get away from them asap! I was even wearing my sunflower lanyard! I could have been wearing a fecking bell saying, “bring out yer dead,” for all the good it done me!

Anyway, it was hours away from those screaming kids!

Back home I complained to Scotrails customer services, who told me that there was nothing they could do, as it doesn’t seem anything wrong with the card, and their machines at the gates are normally fecked, I pleaded to him due to my autism, and anxiety I find it difficult to speak up, that I feel embarrassed  when I’m left like a ‘ticket dodging scum,’ at the gates! He apologised, done all the pleasantries, and told me to call if it happens again, it probably will, and ill get the same result!



Travelin’

me 'n that Posted on August 26, 2020 11:08 am

It takes quite a lot now to get me to go out!

I wanted to see how far I could get on my travel bus pass.

So, I thought I would travel to Ayr.

But like so much of my life I went for the train far to fecking early, so instead of paying £3 to get to Glasgow, I would have to pay in the region of £7, Fuck that!

So I hopped on the 201 East Kilbride bus, to describe this bus the best way I can, the bus company, First, to make any money send this bus round every housing scheme known to man from Airdrie to East Kilbride, through wee narrow streets, parked cars, wee auld people climbing on board, getting their own passes out.

So a trip, normally taken down a motorway in about ½ hour, takes over 2 hours, on a hard bus seat with a migraine, a fucking mask that keeps your breath close to your face, like a fucking gas mask, and my autism in being in a packed bus, with idiots close to me, not wearing their own masks right, (what is the point of wearing a mask, when you cover your mouth, but leave the nose free, the other fucking opening that ‘the plague,’ can get out!

Then the idiot behind me, directly behind me, (he could have sat ANYWHERE else on the bus at the time, as at that point it was empty,) decides to cough all over the back of my head! I may as well book the funeral directors at that point!

I didn’t like buses even before my issues with agoraphobia, they are too confined, too noisy, at least with a train you have 6 carriages to play with, if you cannot stand the arseholes in one carriage, get up and go into the next one, (I have issues with trains also, but that’s an even longer story.)

So I’m trapped on this journey to hell, contemplating what I had done wrong in my life, desperate for a piss now, (it’s a 2 hour bus ride, and I have the bladder the size of a 70yr old man!) the rain is battering outside, lovely day to go to the seaside! I have my noise cancelling headphones on to cancel out the pish around me. I am sitting there contemplating which one of my fellow passengers I would like to kill first, probably the knob end that just gave the back of my head a bath, when finally, we reach East Kilbride, Hurrah!

So, one of two things now before I head for another bus, refreshment, and the loo!

So, I wander into the East Kilbride shopping centre, from the outside it looks a shithole, plonked down on the earth and concrete poured on top! Inside thanks to coronawona virus, al the shops have closed down, or have a fun game where you wait outside like a gimp while 2 shop inside, and you have to wait till they look at everything in the shop, walk out then you can get your chance to do the same!

Anyhow I could not find a lavvy!

I’m scared of public lavvies anyway!

  1. I could never do a shit in one, of bearing my arse to a public lavvy seat would give me the dry boalk!
  2. The smell in the men’s, how can i describe it, you know when male cats mark their sent, THAT!
  3. I had opened toed sandals on, not a good thing to wear in a men’s public shitehouse, there is usually ether a 1-inch layer of piss on the floor, or someone has brought up lasts nights curry on the floor!
  4. ‘I’m glory hole guy,’ may be in there! I am a GAY, (who knew!) but I don’t want to experience man-o-man love in a lavvy stall, or a cock coming through a hole like a cuckoo clock! And the shame! What if you were caught? Hauled up in crown court for getting bummed in a lavvy, id die of shame! Also, I would not mind if the bloke was the equivalent of Jason momoa, or Chris Hemsworth, but they are usually more like Wilfred Bramwell!

So, I went in search of refreshments, and thanks to the lovey Jamie ‘Pucker,’ Oliver had to re-mortgage the house to get full fat cola in a bottle!

Now I search the departure board for the nearest bus to Ayr, as I know from previously looking scent that you can get one from East Kilbride, (and at this point you would think I would use my phone again, a mini computer, to check this, and to be honest so do I,) but I went to the departure board and saw it was stance 9, cool! Walking over to stance 9, sat down on the only seat not covered in rain, (why do Scottish bus & railway stations make their seats out of metal? Don’t they go outside?) looked at the timetable, cool! There will be one along at nine mins past the hour! That went! I remember from previous experience that Stagecoach, the bus company, don’t really follow a timetable, more “I’ll be along in a in a couple of mins,” so I’m not worried!

 Still nothing!

A wee lassie comes along, looks at the timetable, sits herself down, I’m still not worried

A half an hour later, some women fae the bus station owners, and asks me “what bus are ye wanting?”

Remember I’ve probably been waiting there ½ an hour, with a full bladder, staring at probably the ugliest town I have ever seen, she’s been Also, away with the cleaning lady at the other end of the concourse, (me with my nature would not normally approach her, why should I? nowhere on the timetable or the fecking stance does it state THERE IS NO BUS HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

I tell her the bus, only to be told that stagecoach pulled the bus due to the coronawona virus!

So, I had two choices,

  1. Wander round East Kilbride looking for its railway station, (and knowing that East Kilbride is laid out like a fecking maze and ringed with major roads and roundabouts, I would probably still be there lost, raped, and left for dead!
  2. Go back on the 201 bus back home, a two-hour drive with the idiots who don’t know how to wear a fecking mask!

So that was attempt 1 to get to Ayr, look out for attempt 2 soon!



the drugs dont work!

me 'n that Posted on March 18, 2019 6:16 am

I’m
getting very low again!

As
the song says, “the drugs don’t work!” The depression ones, not Columbian
marching powder! I’m not sleeping, or I go into periods of staying in my bed
and sleeping for days! My mind won’t shut down, any bit of noise sets me off,
(that happens quite a lot!) I know my mum
may be reading this, but I do have days where I think she thinks I’m making all
this up! And for someone, who was compared my last therapist, to Billy, in One
flew over the cuckoo’s nest! (for those who have not read the book, or film,
billy commits suicide, rather than his mother finding out he’s had sex!) and
that’s a whole other story! It hurts me, because for someone, who’s opinion I
hold vital, to think that I have made this all up, a mind like mine, that I’ve
hated all my life, sends me into a tailspin! But enough of my Oedipus issues!

I
don’t know if it’s the depression, the state of my life, the waiting for a
diagnosis, the stupid forms, I must fill in for the job centre, or all the
above. But the pressure inside me is bubbling up! And the last time that
happed, it nearly didn’t turn out too well! My brain cannot cope with pressure,
its normal response is to RUN! Or reboot and go back into factory settings! I
have a new therapist coming up, (as you can see before, me and my previous
therapist did not get on, that and her trying to push me into things I was not
comfortable with, like joining a Buddhist monastery, (I’m an atheist,) that I
could not have autism/Asperger’s, as I worked in a call centre, even though I
told her how deeply I took it, was told by my boss I held no empathy, and the
inevitable breakdown I had! And now I have to air my dirty issues to a new
person, (something I hate doing,) The paranoia is rearing in my head also, what
if I meet my old therapist, and she asks why she was chucked? (if that
happened, I would go back to the wee stammering boy again, and stare anywhere
but her, and try to come up with something other than “you made my life a
living hell,”)

I’ve
never been good at expressing myself, some of you may have this also, I can be
quite blunt at times, dam right nasty! Or I could have periods of not talking
at all, there are times I would even cross the road, rather than speak to
someone. My mum today was complaining that “everything was online,” bloody
great! Cos if everything was not online, I would be fucked, I’m glad I can get
my messages from Tesco’s, I only have to point to the delivery driver where to
put the bags! Morrisions is my idea of hell, the aisles are to narrow, and you
have always got 2 pensioners blocking the aisle wanting to talk about the fact
the price of butter has gone up, and its not as good as the old days! I cannot
do the sensible thing, go up to them, say “can you please move, to let me by?”
oh no! not my mind, I would be going through all the scenarios like, what if
one of them screams, at the top of their voice, “don’t be rude!” and I melt
like said butter!

To
get back on topic, I’m going into a deep dark place, and that fucking black dog
is barking directly at my face. The last time I went to a doctor, it got to a
stage where he said to me, if the drugs are not doing anything for you, we
don’t have anything else we can give you, it did not help that he was looking
to section me, or at least cut my medication down to weekly, cause my sister
said I was having dark thoughts! I am in away, death used to frighten me, but
now I think sometimes, especially the way the world is, and what if something
happened to my sister or mother? I also wonder sometimes how easy it would be
to get on a train, and go somewhere far away, and not come back! But you cannot
run away from yer mind,

There
used to be a man across the street from me, he was schizophrenic, he believed
he was the son of god! And like any child at the time I pointed and laughed
like the rest of them, not knowing what was going through his mind. It got so
bad one day that he took himself off into Glasgow, and through himself off a
bridge into the Clyde. I look at that now, and I can see myself in his
position, I hate my mind, how it has made me socially awkward, it fights with
me, saying I’m worthless, I cannot compete with anyone, I will be alone! And I
can put myself on that bridge, fighting myself to make the leap!

Don’t
get me wrong I also have rest bite good days, but at this moment in the cold
bleak winter, sitting her at 5.00am unable to sleep, these are few and far
between! I’m not lonely, I’ve lived in books, and my head most of my life, but
I sometimes wish what could have been! I don’t think I could cope with having a
relationship with anyone ether, I can barely have a relationship with myself!

So
April the first, I go to the head shrink, (I know the irony!) lay my life out
again, and hopefully get some answers, but if they start pushing me out to meet
the world again, you may see me on the 6oclock news running mental, naked down
the high street, being rugby tackled by 5 burly policemen!

I’ve
depressed you enough this morning, let’s see if I can get 5mins worth of sleep!

Nighty
night!



about a hat

me 'n that Posted on March 18, 2019 6:12 am

I
have been living in fear most of my life!

Real
fear!

The
first main sign, that I was different than the others, is other than my mother
I preferred my own company, I used to wander on my own, while the others played
at school. This worried both the teachers, and my mum, was I turning into a
little sociopath? It got to a stage the ‘head shrinks’ were called in! As you
can probably tell I hated it, taken out of class, other people wondering where
I was going, the paranoia, that has haunted me all my life kicked in, “they
think I’m in trouble,” “weird Andrew away, wonder what he has done?”

The
classmates, as you probably could tell were little bastards, I hated school,
the bulling, names I was called reinforced my protective wall around myself and
raised the fear level to DEFCON 2. Primary was not as bad as secondary, when
puberty hit, and it was clear that I was, ‘different,’ I was not attracted to
girls, that at the time, end of the 80s, start of the 90s, was a bad time to
‘come out.’ My squeaky voice, the fact that I did not have a girlfriend, the
rise of AIDS, and that every ‘straight,’ had the idea I did not have any taste
in men and would just jump anyone’s ass! I really did not have any kind of
friends really, again I hung around in my own, it was safer that way. But it
did not help the bulling, I was different. Not one of the clique, and I was
prime for the bulling! It was around this time, I first contemplated suicide, I
really thought about how I was going to do it, would I slit my wrists? too much
pain, would I drown myself? I did not want my last moments struggling for air,
as I slid into the darkness, Pills? What it didn’t work, or I was found? I
could end up even worse a vegetable! To say I scraped by adolescence was an
understatement, and when someone says, “sticks and stones will break your
bones, but names will not hurt you,” or “schooldays were the best days of your
life,” I physically want to punch them to the ground!

Then
came work, the first thing I decided to shield myself would mask my real self,
I hid my sexuality from everyone at school, and I was still was bullied. So, I
decided to go right out there, I was ‘BIG CAMP ANDI!’ the life and soul of the
party! Despite my awkwardness, I have a very weird, and somewhat blunt sense of
humour, and to say I turned this up to the max, would be understating
this! The things my mother and father,
warned me not to do, I DID, campy hats, furry bags, bright colours, anything
for ‘them,’ to focus on that, then me! I still did not socialise, one reason
for this is the fear again of revealing my ‘true self’ to people, and I cant
hold my drink, (it’s true, one Christmas,
in my first real job, I had a small amount of whisky in a glass, I was
up on the tables, singing like a bad karaoke star, that thinks he’s Elton
john!) But I had my bad days, where the mask would slip, for example when I was
told off by a boss, I go into little schoolboy mode, the nerves overcame me,
and the stammering, trying to get myself out of the mess, and out of the door
as soon as possible. I have great difficulty adapting to new things, again this
really did not make me a great employee, (I’ve realised these are traits of
Asperger’s,) but at the time all I could do is wish my brain worked like normal
people! At these points the depression, would really sink in, and I got from my
work friends around me, “where’s happy bubbly andi?” And I try, really try, to
put the mask back on, and be ‘bubbly andi,’ but inside I’m screaming, “leave me
alone, this is the real me!” and the guilt would kick in, I’m deceiving these
people, the ones that are trying to make friends with me! They are trying to
help, and you are slapping them down!

To
be honest, working in a customer service call centre was a huge mistake! I took
everything in like a sponge, yes, I could tell you inside and out the product,
the flipside of that was, when people got angry, which they did quite a lot, I
took it personally. I would go home at night sometimes and cry myself to sleep.
It was only inevitable I would have a MAJOR BREAKDOWN, and I did, it was due to
my old foe, non-conforming, I done something wrong on a call, I promised I
would change, and about a day later did the same thing again. When I was taken
in, to be questioned by my superiors, I felt I was that little schoolboy again,
having done something worse than death, the ground opened and swallowed me!
Then after that I was put back on the phones, with a supervisor, and the same
thing happened again! I could not get the office quick enough, and went to the
end of the road, looking to put myself in front of the next car, I stood there
for 10 mins, debating with myself, (it felt like 10 hours!) I never had a
thought, that I was going to die, I wanted to die! The only thought I had was
the person in the car, how were they going to feel, that they were in the
instrument that would end my life. That kinda called me out of my misery, and I
slowly walked home, crying, I felt such a failure, that I did not kill myself,
I could not even do that right!

You
may be wondering why this is called ‘about a hat,’ its about said hat,
(pictured,) I went out yesterday wearing it, (my bit of rebellion,) and I got
from my father, “you are not going out like that, it’s embarrassing, take it
off, you look like coco the clown,” and I’m back trying to please people,
hiding away again, to save me from the hurt, that I perceive people are
thinking about me, in their head! I didn’t take it off, I walked out the door,
head held high!



fook me!

me 'n that Posted on September 24, 2018 5:29 am

Well
where to begin? Shall I start at the doctor saying, I do have traits of autism,
since childhood, but will not arrange a diagnosis, as this would cost mone…sorry
I am too old. I would laugh, but they way my life was going I would have
expected it. Instead, as usual I ran away and hid, going into a meltdown, I ran
to my old friend, art. But digress, I was, as usual, expecting to get an answer
to why my brain has acted the way it has since childhood. Well getting kicked
back down to my old depression was what I got.

And
the big back dog is back, and it is savage, I was clearly agitated that day
with this doctor, practically begging him on my knees, and what I got was a
note on headed note paper, stating “I suspect this man had* had issues with autism
since childhood, and has not been resolved” and I got a prescription with an anti-psychotic.
Mainly to shut me up.

I
am also without my therapist due to a fucking migraine, and now I’m having to
wait for nearly a month to get this all off my chest. I was weary at first, telling
my shit life so far, but I have done this on this blog for a while now, what’s
one more person going to hurt, especially if it gives me a focus?

Now
let me get back to the real cause of my stress and panic. I got a letter from
work, again saying they have done everything possible to get in touch with me,
and I have been an evil boy not getting back to them, or words to that effect. I
have been getting my recurring dreams of being chased round my old school, by
senior management at my work, it would be laughable, if I did not wake up in
cold sweats!

Now
I must think about going back to that hateful place, with no support frightens
me even more!

I
am back with Facebook, it’s like crack, addictive! To my credit, it was mainly
to join groups to meet, and talk to more gay people, still not helping, but I am
back to the joys of chain letters, crappy, proverbs, and the new one, people
from Nigeria, and the Philippines, pretending to be westerners, looking to have
a relationship with me, or maybe to scam money, I kid you not! They are not even
very good at it, you can spot them a mile away, the bad English, and the poor grammar,
it is like being on the phone to an overseas call centre. I think they get
their English from a phrase book, or apocalypse now! Sucky sucky, and all that!
What angers me, rather than thinking it a laugh, is on my profile, and in
conversation on Facebook, or any dating site, I make them aware of my mental
condition. So effectively they are praying on the weak, I luckily saw through
it, but others may not. Another reason why I think humans are the pond scum of
the universe, and we should never infect ourselves on the rest of it! Elon
fucking cunty musk, take note!

On
a side note, the British diver, he called a ‘nonce’ is suing the little publicity
seeking bastard! So, there is some good news!

So,
the fight goes on for my Asperger’s diagnosis! And I will keep you updated.

Ta-rah!

*what scares me, is a medical doctor, thinks autism is curable, with the past tense of the word “had”



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