Blog Image

hello me

the drugs dont work!

me 'n that Posted on Mon, March 18, 2019 06:16:58

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 Mon, March 18, 2019 06:12:17

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!