4 x 200mg Pregablin
3 x 30mg Codiene
2 x 5mg Valium
1 x Beer/Cider/Rum/Wine
In shorts and a vest, freezing outsie with the window open blowing the freezing air on me.
Lights off.
Bella sleeping next to me.
Thats the cat.
None of which I can do in this motel while they find me a place to live.
But that is as close as to perfection I’ll ever get for real relaxation.
I have issues.
The pain is all I know
It’s all I feel, it’s all I show
I cut, I burn, I bleed
I do it all to numb the pain inside
I know it’s wrong, but I can’t stop
It’s like a drug, I’m addicted to the drop
Of blood, of pain, of relief
It’s all I have, it’s all I need
I’m trapped in this cycle, I can’t escape
I’m drowning in my own self-hate
I’m lost, alone, and afraid
I don’t know how to break this chain
But I know I have to try
I have to find a way to stop
This cycle of pain and misery
I have to find a way to heal
I know it won’t be easy
But I’m not giving up
I’m going to fight this, I’m going to win
I’m going to break this cycle and be free.
So this is a painful one to put on. I know I’m trying to keep things anonymous but sometimes you just can’t avoid it. This picture is one I hate. I cannot being to tell you how much I hate the image. It is me at my worst. Too many pills, have probably been drinking, and now have the puffy pill face and you can see my brain rotting.
It’s a real brings-it-home picture of how things used to be and how far I’ve come. Maybe I should see it in a happy light. That, that was the old me and the new me is much better. He is much better just needs more support things. To me, that picture symbolizes everything that I hate about me. I’m sure there are much worse ones out there but this is the first I could find.
I was on subtex at the time. If I wasn’t sleeping. I was throwing up. Ugh.
So I found some ideas online about doing question-and-answer posts about life-supposed questions. So there are like 100, so I’ve broken them up into smaller chunks and then see how we get on.
Who are you? How would you describe yourself?
I’m Andy. Fat, balding, passionate self-hater but good for the occasional laugh, sarcasm, and some dark humor. I’m an alcoholic, I’ve been clean from drugs for 8 years now and I vape instead of smoking. I suffer from several mental health issues, chronic pain and generally being a bit shite at the moment.
What are you passionate about?
Trading cards, comics, reading, fishing, trying to cook food for the family but the ultimate? music. Nothing comes close. Days spent listening to new music and abuse of the Spotify-like button.
What past achievements are you proudest of?
Starting up a company to provide free laptops to those in need in the Greater Manchester area, I would seek out hardware donations from people who were going to landfill them, refurbish and give them a new life, and then distribute them. I spent one Christmas driving around delivering the just before Christmas just to make to holidays a bit easier or a boost for some.
What are you grateful for?
My wife and kids, karma and the dogs, Maybe nina more than Dobby but give it time.
What are the most important things to you in life?
My wife and the unique arrangement being together. The fact she is almost as weird as me helps. My kids are my life at the moment, they are at that age where they want to do things alone and that kills me a little bit inside.
What are your values?
Loyalty and trust. I would say honesty but no one is ever 100% honest. Whether it’s a guy they keep in touch with in case anything happens in a relationship, to downright cheating, these can be forgivable but break loyalty and trust? that’s a big no for me. Is honesty trust? suppose it could be. I’m thinking trust that they mean they love you when they say it, loyalty that they have my interests at heart. Big ask that last one.
“Some people never go crazy. What truly horrible lives they must lead.”
― Charles Bukowski
I wanted to write a blog post about addiction but given my last few posts, I think I’ll switch it up a little bit. I’ve always had a strange relationship with my parents while they were alive. I find it interesting because hearing other people’s thoughts about parents showed that everyone had differing relationships as well. Hopefully, writing about them will give me a release and finally have something to look at later and say “Oh yeah, they were arseholes”.
So I was brought up here, there, and everywhere. We moved around a lot till 1990 when we settled in North Wales. I was 8 at the time so I remember this location better than the others. The others were just a blur really. I do remember the playroom of the house in Peterborough being haunted though. My mum said there was a little girl there who liked to play with the toys when me and my brother (dickhead herein). Dickhead never mentioned seeing her, but I would. And it freaked me out. But that’s a topic for another conversation. Back to my parents. My mum was Dutch and my dad was Scottish. This made for an interesting dynamic in the house. My mum was very liberal with things. An example of this is one day in high school, I would regularly skip school. I’d sneak out the front gate and walk along the beach and into town. I would buy cigarettes as I looked older and then sell them to the kids in school. So anyway one day I decided to go and get a haircut. Did that and then came back to school and slipped into the lesson. I think it was Welsh. Mrs Evans pulled me out of the class and questioned the haircut. I did explain that maybe she was getting old because how could I get a haircut if I was in school all day. She wouldn’t drop it. So I got sent to the head of year, and they asked, I said I had a doctor’s appointment and decided to smarten myself up on the way back to school. He then phones home. My mum answered, “Did your son have a GP appointment today”, “Yes”, “Oh erm okay sorry to have bothered you”. Sent back to class. I spoke to Mum after school and she never mentioned it. It must have happened a few times and she always had my back. I’ll never forget in primary school how my dad told the teacher off about Welsh. “It’s not a real language, no one uses it and I won’t have my son learn it”. Not embarrassing at all. Then there was the time mum bought me and dickhead fireworks. For fun. I was 10. SO naturally we started lighting them and throwing them on the street. The police officer comes running telling us it’s illegal etc. Mum pretends she can’t speak English and speaks Dutch to the police officer. We run out of fireworks. The police said not to do it again. Madness.
See I have a conflict because of all the fun we had as kids having crazy parents it did ruin things a bit. You wanted to have a stable household or be told off once in a while about something that all other kids would be told off for. Let’s see. Drinking was acceptable at age 12+, and smoking weed was fine so long as you didn’t stink the farmhouse out, hell, you could grow it like dickhead did. So long as Dad didnt find out about the grow then all was good. Smoking 14+. Never an issue given they both had 40-a-day addiction. Forced labor aged 12 (with a work permit) at the factory packing bottles for £3hr. So technically not forced labor as we were paid but EVERY half term, summer vacation we were worked. Hard work. Very manual work. They did instill a work ethic in us. It motivated me to get away from Wales ultimately. It took one worker saying “You’ll just end up here like everyone else”. Sod that I thought. High School -> College and then Uni. I did work there during the holidays to generate extra cash for uni.’
My mum would drink every day. She would dilute the wine with water but then drink twice as much. She would pop pills like candy and give me valium from age 10 when I couldn’t sleep or if I was moaning about something. Sore body part? codeine. There was a pill for everything. I was raised thinking it was totally acceptable to take copious amounts of meds and to “help myself if I need it” attitude has caused lasting damage. The same with drinking. Because wine isn’t drinking. It’s just wine. Aged 12 and drinking almost every day. Really set me up for when the sexual abuse started.
And now I’ve lost the point and plot of this post. Both parents are dead. My mum died in 2014 due to lung cancer and my dad died in 2018 due to dementia. After my mum died I got into her email account to check for bills. She manipulated the f8ck out of everyone, playing them off and generally lying about things that happened. I read some heartbreaking emails. “I wish he would kill himself so the suffering stops”. Things like that. My dad’s dementia was intense. I tried to be there as much as I could, through all the disbelief and paranoia that he had from it. Having to constantly explain that mum died as he’d forget. When he was in the hospital I would be weak and give in a few times “Mum is on her way from the farm now”. He would smile and fall asleep. I was holding he is hand when he died. I felt him squeeze and shuffle backward in his hospital bed. “Do what you need to do Dad”. Then he died. It still upsets me to this day. I can deal with accusations, paranoia, and things but that was the first time someone died in front of me. I phoned dickhead to come to meet me at the hospital. I cried in the stairway for 10 minutes straight before he pinged me that he was there. I cried not because I miss him but because of all the shit he caused in the four years after Mum died. I did pretty much everything for him for 4 years. Being called a thief when he couldn’t find his wallet, or that I was giving him the wrong pills, that he never washed for over a year and would just soil his nappies instead of getting up and walking to the toilet.
I could go on forever. If I was to be asked if I miss them? sadly my answer would be no. Not really. I used to miss phone calls with my mum but that stopped after seeing the emails. As for Dad, well, whatever happens to you when you die will hopefully be better than living in your own filth. Parents are great because they teach us a lesson. The lesson of what not to teach your own kids.
38,102,400 seconds
635,040 minutes
10,584 hours
441 days
63 weeks
Today I had a drink, breaking my year-long sobriety streak. It’s hard to put into words how disappointed and ashamed I feel right now. I had been doing so well, and now it feels like all of that progress has been erased in an instant.
But I know that recovery is not a straight line, and that setbacks are a normal part of the journey. While I’m disappointed in myself for slipping up, I’m also trying to be compassionate and understanding towards myself. Recovery is a lifelong process, and it’s okay to stumble along the way.
Looking back, I can see how my thoughts and behaviors slowly led me back to this point. I was feeling stressed and overwhelmed, and I didn’t have the tools or support I needed to manage those feelings in a healthy way. Instead, I turned to alcohol as a coping mechanism, even though I knew deep down that it wasn’t the answer.
But I also know that this doesn’t have to be the end of my recovery journey. I can pick myself up and start again, recommitting to my sobriety and seeking out the help and support that I need. I’m reminding myself that I’m not defined by this one slip-up, and that I have the strength and resilience to continue moving forward.
I’m sharing this experience because I know that I’m not the only one who has struggled with addiction and recovery. It’s a difficult journey, and setbacks are a reality. But I want others who may be struggling to know that it’s never too late to start again, and that there is always hope for a brighter, healthier future.
Hello.
Twenty-first century breakdown
I once was lost but never was found
I think, I am losing what’s left of my mind
To the twentieth century deadline
So. I can’t keep staring at the blank screen so I’ll just see how it goes. Firstly, the meme to the left is aimed more at me than anyone else. No one really bothers me much these days. To much negativity to be dragging around. I suppose of the “features” of the condition is the ability to split and completely without a second thought to it, cut someone out of your life as if they never existed. You can’t always determine who the split will be. If its random then you have no control on the time it lasts. I can split for minutes, hours, days, weeks and months. It just totally depends what “he” decides.
I haven’t split unintentionally for a while now has been good. I’m sort of splitting from myself in a way. I really really hate myself so of course it makes a logical reason to feel that way with myself.
I’m aware you can’t split from yourself no more than can you walk through a wall. But, maybe, in psuedo thinking you could technically split from a personality thats trapped inside you. Or would that be giving up the battle? What if I just said “F*ck it” and be done with it. Accept the person that I’m supposed to be, stop the meds, lose control and let “him” be in charge. Its what he wants any way.
But alas I cannot give in. He knows how to hurt me. He shows me things I don’t want to see. Memories that I dont want to relive when I don’t behave. He knows the ultimate way of putting me down. My FP (favourite person) B. He knows that if he flashes an image of him whilst showing me the memories of sexual abuse when I was in my teenage years. He knows itll break me. Stop me dead in my tracks and throw me off and triggered for an unknown length of time.
See. You don’t get to choose your FP. Its a weird attachment thing that people with certain disorders have where you link or bond with someone and that person, good or bad, becomes the centre of your world. You would do anything to protect them and you would kill them by your own hand rather than expose them to hard. Its extreme. Its both fiery hot and freezing cold. You world crashes down should you think they think a bad thought about you. If it isnt perfect, if it isn’t amazing then you are welcomed with severe stomach piercing feelings. You pray, you beg, you cry out that you didn’t mean to upset them even though its only a tone of voice that you hear. That is slightly off, even if it isn’t there you find it.
Its exhaustive. Realistically, B has saved my life many a time. The simple imaginary look on his face when he hears I have died has silenced many attempts and hospital admissions. Thats not the problem though. I have that, its my safe guard. But the real crux of the problem? control. I can’t lose control, ever. If I let my guard down for a second, the other one moves in. I see flashes of the things he is doing. A creepy smile spreading on my face that I cannot stop.
Addiction. Not ideal when you want to lose control and escape for a few hours. I can’t abuse drugs any more. Well thats true and not true. I can sedate myself with prescribed meds and chill out for a few hours without losing control and so long as I don’t do it for days on end. I havent injected since 2012 which near year will be a ten year victory. I used to be addicted to Ampthetamine.
Not my most glamrous part of my life shooting up to deal with the world, to go to work, to behave, to stay awake. B was born in 2011. So the added pressures were used, for lack of a better word, excuses to abuse the hell out of my body. Those drugs made me lose control several times leading to social services intervention and a whole fun host of other things including the police.
That ten year victory sounds good now having just typed that.
I don’t think I’m at risk right now to be injecting. I’m just babbling about things that can cause the lack of control to occur, to free my other me.
Control. Got to walk the line. Which is incredibly thin sometimes.
My saviour once again. Music.
You can run on for a long time
Run on for a long time
Run on for a long time
Sooner or later God’ll cut you down
Sooner or later God’ll cut you down
Well you may throw your rock and hide your hand
Workin’ in the dark against your fellow man
But as sure as God made black and white
What’s down in the dark will be brought to the light
Maybe something a bit new-ish 😉
Bite my tongue, bide my time
Wearing a warning sign
Wait ’til the world is mine
Visions I vandalize
Cold in my kingdom size
Addiction. Addiction is a killer, that much is true but the overwhelming feeling of forever saying no to every last prompt from your brain is so tiring. The irrational arguments your brain makes to try and trick you into saying yes and caving into your craving. I’m not just focussing on drink but having an addictive nature really isn’t much fun sometimes. You can reach out to people but if they have never been in the grips of a true addiction they will never understand. I do envy them, never having that nawing feeling and withdrawl. But then again I pity that they never got to experience such highs.
This is why music is so important to me. Its always been there in some form or another. Throughout my whole life I have always been fortunate to have music as a fall back. A safety net that I can stick in my ears and let the world detune a little bit and give me some space. The only problem is when I focus to hard on the lyrics and warp them into a personal situation. But I guess thats the point, isn’t it? to relate to music and make it apply to a situation, memory or whatever is occuring in our lives.
Weekend Report
So I had a nice weekend. D was working and then away training till late last night. I took the opportunity and had a Daddy and Son day. We went a park near by, B rode his bike while I chased after him on foot carrying a picnic, football and his ice cream. It was warm, it was green and it was bonding. We both had a great time, it was nice to let go and not think about much. After a few hours we came home. B hasn’t been very well the past few days (he’s the definition of health now) so we stayed at home and chilled. Playing Roblox, watching movies and talking.
It was mine and D’s wedding anniversary yesterday, its a shame we didn’t spend much of it together but she sent me a lovely message just after midnight which was great to wake up and read yesterday morning. I am proud of that. Sticking together through it all for this long. Long may it continue. The marriage. Not that bad stuff. That stuff can bugger off. The time we had together in the evening was amazing as always. R came round yesterday as well, my other daughter who doesn’t live with me. She brought fathers day presents and we had an awesome day playing and catching up which I love doing with her. Hearing about her life and then relaying whats happened in mine. S came back from her dads and all three of us had a monster McDonalds delivery and stuff our fat little faces. It was bliss.
Today
Today I’m sat waiting for the delivery of a new mattress as the current one is beyond bad. You can feel it poking and jabbing all night, far too soft so your spine has melted by the morning. So working from home this morning sending emails and catching up on admin. Also flitting between this and the other tabs with some music going. American Witch by Rob Zombie. The randomness of my play lists as the song is swiftly followed by an Eminem song.
Hope everyone has an awesome day.
